#if you have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life you shouldn’t be allowed to make anymore money
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Stop supporting muskrat and cuckerberg fighting each other you know they’re gonna make it a whole event and sell tickets so they can get more rich and people are gonna eat that shit up
If they wanna beat the shit out of each other that’s great but I just don’t want to hear about it or see it because they don’t deserve the attention. Stop putting rich people up on a pedestal even if it’s only to kick them down. Everything is a transaction to them they don’t deserve your attention or your money
#I’m sorry I just fucking hate rich people right now and I don’t think they deserve even an ounce of attention#if you have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life you shouldn’t be allowed to make anymore money
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GAZA 😭😭🇵🇸🔗⬇️
support us we lost our home and our workes😔💔
My children are sick from the cold and the spread of diseases, and they are all in pain. I have been displaced with my children many times, and each time we had to bleed her precious evacuation money to buy transportation and transportation.
These conditions are absolutely catastrophic. It's the end of the world. No child, no mother, no person should have to go through this.
You can help by donating and sharing so we don't have to struggle anymore. All we are hoping for is to get enough money to evacuate to Cairo so we don't have to rely on the black market for simple things like food anymore.
You can help.
Please take time out of your day to donate to my family, our campaign is moving very slowly and we need your help.
Please help my family get out of this hell. We, like all human beings, deserve safety, comfort, and warmth, and now you have a way to help provide these things for us.
https://gofund.me/5770752d.
Dear, please don't let me down, we deserve life and we deserve your generosity and kindness towards us, you are our lifeline and with your generosity you give us life even a little, but you relieve us of injustice and the cursed war, you are the hope and life once again, be side by side hand in hand, we will make a big difference with faith, strength, will and determination, we will reach the goal, we are very close, I hope you participate and contribute if you can. 💜🇵🇸🍉🍉💐💐.
I am a mother of three beautiful little girls, Sana and Hanan. Hla has been sick recently and Hla needs to be vaccinated very soon, but I can tell you that the situation has been very difficult in Gaza and the campaign has been slow lately.
Thank you to everyone who donated and participated from the bottom of my heart, but my campaign needs more support and interaction. I think that my campaign did not receive the required interaction and attention. It is not my fault that I am Palestinian so that I do not receive support. I think that other campaigns and non-Arab campaigns take momentum from interaction and support. It is not my fault that a Palestinian is marginalized for the sake of my children, humanity, and children's rights. Help m🙏🏻🙏🏻💔💔.
My name is Tahani, I am 30 years old from Gaza and I have three very young children, Sana, Hanan and my youngest, Hala, who grew up during the war. Our house was destroyed, I was displaced several times and I am currently separated from the rest of my family - my husband, brothers, sisters and parents. I cannot tell you how stressed I am.
@xxx-sparkydemon-xxx @lampthehealthminister @baandar @doug-dimmadumb @astronotesstuff @prokyon @the-bitch-isback @aceofrage @intheindustrynow-blog @horrorcore2002 @thescavenger29 @yvening @springcres @meowmaids @akaratna @ezras-turtleneck-blog @fagarlic @grandpom @omens-augury @pianta @kingtransgender @friendlizard @intricatecakes @marbirds @error-core-animations @block-swing-perry @br-eddrolls @kraigerzz-blog @daily-click-reminders @commissions4aid-international @anneemay @tumkaafiho @balaclava-trismegistus @ripley-stark @mangocheesecakes @bees-fantasies @girl4pay @turtletoria @rikebe @esperantoauthor @starless-gaze @frehsca
I am doing my best to take care of my children by myself, despite facing hunger, thirst, disease and the threat of death. The other day, there was heavy shelling near me and another family close to us was killed. Life in Gaza is now hell and I tell you that we are living as if we are waiting for our turn to die.
I am Tahani from Gaza, I am 30 years old. I stand before you as a person trying to maintain my family. I am married and a mother of three children: Sana, who is seven years old, Hanan, who is five years old, and a girl named hla. She grew up during the war and in very harsh conditions that no human being can bear. I moved from the hospital directly to the tent. I cannot describe the extent of the suffering and difficulty of living in the tent.
But I need help. The situation in Gaza is very bad right now, with the IDF preventing aid from entering and the food, water and medicine that is available are very expensive. Please share and donate to help me and my children survive and eventually leave Gaza.
Thank you all. I hope you will support me to save my life and the lives of my children🇵🇸🍉🍉.
‼️Please don’t skip taking a look 🍉🇵🇸.
We are trying to survive in miserable conditions in tents in Mawasi Deir al-Balah, south of Gaza. It is difficult for me to find the words to describe what we face every day in Gaza. No food, no medicine, no clean drinking water, oppression, helplessness, psychological pressure, doubts and daily trauma due to the loss of loved ones. In Gaza, it is not only hunger, disease and fear; it means actual death.
We have been forced to move more than 7 times, and my house has been completely destroyed, and I cannot provide enough milk, diapers, medicines, and vitamins for my children.💔🍉🇵🇸😭
Now, I find myself in this difficult situation, and I strongly and humbly ask for your help to save the lives of my family, especially my children, by getting us out of Gaza. The situation in Gaza has become unbearable due to slow death as a result of hunger, thirst, displacement, the spread of diseases and continuous bombing.🍉🇵🇸💔
The past months have been full of hell and horror. This war has gone on for too long, and our mental health and lives are constantly at risk. We have reached a point where there is no hope anymore in Gaza, as if we are waiting for death. Even if a ceasefire is reached, the devastation in Gaza in all its forms cannot be quickly repaired
Please help me and my children to get us out of genocide🍉🇵🇸💔.
Your help will contribute greatly to alleviating our suffering. I hope you will share my story with your family and friends.💔💔
I will be forever grateful for your kind assistance in this difficult time🇵🇸🇵🇸
Thank you for your kindness and generosity❤️.
Donation link 🇵🇸👇
https://gofund.me/5770752d
1. Verified using Butterflyeffect Project font (1153)
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #275 )✅️
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It's my birthday today, and I am lucky to be able to celebrate it in the comfort of my home! Some, however are not so lucky.
It would mean the world to me if you could give at least a small donation of $5 to the fundraiser I've linked below. Please reblog as well after donating, or even if you can't donate, so that it may reach others who are capable of donating.
I can vouch for the legibility of this fundraiser! Here's a post by @gothhabiba explaining the same. He is the brother-in-law of @ma7moudgaza2, so you can rest assured that the money is going to a good cause.
Ahmed (@ilovelifetbh) has two small children. One is three years old while the other, Anas, is only one. He was born in the beginning of the days of the genocide and has known nothing but death and destruction his whole life! Can you imagine! Please put yourself in his shoes for a second, and be compassionate. As fellow human beings, help restore hope to him and his wife after the tragedy of the destruction of his house. The money will help him rebuild his house and provide for his children.
It is not an exaggeration to say your contribution could save lives! Ahmed currently only has $226 on his fundraiser! That's extremely low, it's not even enough to cover costs of the absolute basic necessities of life in Gaza, what with the soaring prices!
I am willing to make you a fully coloured drawing of anything you'd like for the first five people who make a donation of more than $50. Just reply to this post and I will reach out to you with details on what I can do (provided you have proof of donation).
The first ten donations of more than $10 will get smaller doodles depending on the amount donated (again, provided you have proof of donation)
Here are some examples of my art:
Apologies for the tag:
@victoriawhimsey @jewishdainix @timetravellingkitty @jackie-shitposts
@oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais
@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer
@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney
@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds
@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters
@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation
@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli
@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns
@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain
@stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy
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A Day in Life
Synopsis: A day in the life of Jason Todd. Also, he's a househusband now. Oh, and a little plot twist.
Pairing: Househusband!Jason Todd X Gn!Reader; Platonic!Batfam
Tw: Canon level angst for Jason; Some sexual innuendos; Writer apparently doesn't know how to finish a story anymore; This is pretty slice-of-life so maybe boring?; English is not my first language.
Word count: 3,8k
Requested? No.
General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist
Wake up, make out, get up. First steps of your everyday routine. Sometimes making out turns into something more, but not today.
From his past life, as Robin, Jason learned a lot about discipline. As much as he tried to forget everything and everyone from his past before you, some habits die hard, although with time, with you and with therapy, he accepted that not all of his experience was bad or should be thrown away just because of one sociopathic clown who hurt him. Yes, Jason died, came back angry and did a lot of shit. But he was still alive and this could be a second chance.
While you, his darling spouse, get ready for work, Jason gets up, puts on his apron, fills the dog bowl for Daphne — your little brown dachshund that you adopted together four months after getting married —, opens the doors to the garden, so the dog can do whatever, and finally starts making breakfast and lunch. Breakfast so you two can eat together and lunch for you to eat at work. Sometimes you both meet up and eat together at your office or a restaurant. Today, that's not the case.
Simple yogurt with fresh fruits and nuts, coupled with a slice of chocolate cake he baked the day prior, eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. As for your lunch box, a natural sandwich, salad, fruits and juice. He also fills up your two liter water bottle, so you feel pressured have no excuse but to stay hydrated.
Food. Until he was 12 his relationship with food was complicated, to stay the least. At first, his beloved but troubled mom would be in no condition to cook him three or more nice and fulfilling meals a day for a growing boy, he either had to learn and make do with quick instant food, eggs and old bread, or starve, since money was something he only saw when it was being handled to her drug dealer. His father was even worse. Jason loved his mom. Still suffers for her. He hated his father who was the one making her addiction worse. He’s still happy he died.
Living on the streets, food was a dream. A bad dream. It either came from trash or he had to do things that made him feel humiliated and guilty just to get some. And it was gone in a flash, he was so hungry he devoured it all in a second, and then his belly hurt.
Then he came. Jason loved his new father. Loved his new grandfather. Loved their food. So healthy, abundant and full of taste. So fun to prepare. He learned a lot from Alfred because he loved to spend time with him, play with the ingredients and make everyone and himself happy with the results.
But then he had those memories wiped out of his mind, (un)fortunately they came back, but at that time food was in the back of his mind. Sure, he didn't have to worry about starving, crime paid more than enough for that, but he didn't put much thought into any of it.
Now, with you, he's making new memories with food. He cooked and baked a lot with you and for you throughout all your relationship, and you did the same for him. He loves his kitchen, just like the rest of your house. The pantry and fridge are always full thanks to you. You take good care of him. You make his trust in you be worth it. And he reciprocates it. Healthy and nice food that brings comfort and makes you roll your eyes. Especially after he started frequenting cooking classes as a hobby, again, thanks to you.
After you are gone with a full belly and a pet in the ass (just like him, honestly), he continues his routine. He changes clothes and goes to the gym. Jason never stopped exercising, but the lack of all the activity vigilantism entails and with all the treats you two have, he started getting more soft. You loved it, he hated it. — Okay he didn't hate it, he just wasn't the most happy with it. Roy thought it was kinda funny, until Jason pointed out he also got softer after Lian. You honestly couldn't see why all that softness they were talking about was so bad since they were still very muscular and defined, just less dry and more snuggly. You honestly thought your Jaybird could go even further. — So the addiction of yoga to his routine happened.
After that, he goes straight home, eats, showers, takes care of his appearance to keep looking like a proper hubby that you can shove on your bitter frenemies faces, and makes sure to keep the maintenance of the house, so you can come back tired from work and enjoy a perfect house to rest on.
Hygiene. Another things that was complicated with his biological family. His father wouldn't touch a single plate or broom, and would beat and scream at his mom if she didn't put her high (again, because of him) ass up and did the labor. Most often than not, their house was messy, had a bad smell that his little nose was so used to that it's not like he minded, and had insects around. His clothes were dirty hand-me-downs, some fit him, some didn't, a lot of them had holes. His hair tangled and itchy.
When he went to the streets, it just got worse.
Bruce and Alfred fixed that. He finally learned what stink was because he only knew good and neutral scents. His clothes fit him. Everything around him was clean and well-kept. No holes, no stains. Hair always trimmed, soft and clean. Well maintained.
When he came back, cleanliness was basic. Of course he is gonna keep everything around him clean. Habit and common sense, you know? Clothes his size because why the hell would he use hand-me-downs when he can just buy his own? And they had to be the right size for his new 6’2 and almost 200 lbs body. Hair? Whatever. Always washed but as long as it didn't look ridiculous he didn't have time to put much thought on his appearance. He was genuinely surprised you were attracted to him at first sight.
Being with you, he learned to enjoy the little things in life again. Sometimes he finds himself unmoving in front of a random room of the house, or in front of the mirror, trying to grasp if it's all real, If this is really his life, if that's how he looks. His mind flashes memories of his childhood home and his current home. He ignores the memories of the manor not only because of the betrayal he felt for Bruce, but also because the manor was from the Wayne's. He was a Wayne. He is not anymore. This is him. His new house, with you, is what he wished he had growing up. What he always dreamed of. Love. Company. And comfort. He felt all of that while being a Wayne, until he despised the Wayne's. Not the couple that died decades ago or the centuries old descendants. But his father and his siblings.
On days where he doesn't take care of the house, he practices his hobbies. He now has time to do it all, surprising you, his therapist, Roy, and himself, he did cooking, gardening, pottery, crocheting and of course, reading. You paid for all his classes, praised him on his achievements, added his creations to the decor of the house, accompanied him on any event or place related to his interests, gave him his own library in one of the rooms in the house. He even made some friends between middle-aged women and the only other househusband and stay-a-home dad that frequented those places.
It was very funny and cute seeing rough, huge, leather jacket wearing and scarred Jason Todd telling jokes to 50-year-old white moms/grandmas and sometimes even babysitting their kids, pets and plants. You knew he could be a good dad one day if you decided to have kids. He was also more than happy to have just you, Daphne and good friends. And plants.
Warmth. When he was a kid his parents broke the heater during a fight, he wondered if they didn't have money to fix it, even with his father's activities, or if his father just refused to fix it. Anyhow, it was always cold in Gotham, freezing on winter, his dirty clothes with holes didn't help much. The streets didn't seem much different in that aspect. The manor kept him warm when he wasn't seven feet under the dirt, in a casket. When he came back, Jason always wore the warmest of clothes, even while sweating, he didn't know why. Now he did. Your house is always warm. Your body is always warm. Comfort. Your love gave him comfort. Warmth. A reason to live.
Love. His mom. Bruce and Alfred. You.
After he was done and rested for a little, Jason took Daphne for a walk in the way to the grocery shop. He wanted to try a new receipt you saw on tiktok today for dinner and had to get more flour and something for the filling.
After a few minutes of walking on his perfectly nice looking and safe neighborhood — nothing like crime alley. The type of neighborhood he saw on the television and imagined those other happy kids his age living and envied them. Dreamed of being adopted into one of their families while jumping from orphanage to orphanage. It never happened. He just got more abused. And then the manor was so isolated that you could only see mansions and plants all around. So big and far away that they looked empty of life. — he got there and strapped the dog to a post, next to a smiley golden retriever.
He got in and- fuck it, I'm going home. The empanadas can wait another day.
— Jason? Oh my god. Jason! Is that you?! — The infuriatingly familiar loud voice calls out from the middle of the shop and all heads turn to look. Shit, he can't go now without embarrassing himself in front of the cashier of his favorite and most visited shop. So he just nods, takes a basket and walks as if there was nothing interesting happening. It worked with the others costumers, unfortunately, Dick thought it was way too interesting and forgot his own basket that only contained eggs and cereal, and started following him around, this time, with a less surprised tone.
— Hey, Dick. — Jason idly muttered, that just made his coff coff brother indignant.
— Hey, Dick?! What the hell? Where were you? It's been three years! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! We never stopped looking for you! We were worried! We mourned! What happened? — Was it bad that Jason didn't want to give him a real answer? Probably. Especially with how much his therapist, who he saw on the days he didn't go to the gym, told him he should try to mend things with his family. So much so that he started actually contemplating it recently. But if he did it, it was going to be on his own time. Not by bumping into them in the grocery store. Oh, well. Jason was always good at adapting. The best.
And wow, three years had passed? Makes sense. Recovery does take time and he's been really happy for a while. Jason still remembers the day he decided to quit everything. It was the same day he decided you were the one, truthfully he always knew you were marriage material, the perfect one for him, out of his league, straight out of his most amazing dreams, peak goal for him, but he wasn't sure if he deserved to be the one you should be stuck with forever. He desperately wanted to, but he had to commit. Ride or die. He loved you, now more than ever, and didn't want to waste your time. He was still a bit messy at the time, but you made it all better, he was a lot better than he was before you came into the picture. You were the right choice. Jason always took you seriously, he was just insecure. So, while still in around eight months of relationship, he quit everything.
He quit his family. He quit vigilantism. He searched for recovery. And a year and a half later, with a little more than two years of dating, he made the big proposal. You married on your three-year anniversary. Got Daphne four months later. It's been around three or four months ever since.
While Dick’s math might not be exact, it is not necessary in this context, the point came across just fine.
He also knew that the fact that you both decided to not leave Gotham was going to bite him in the ass one day. One way or another.
— What happened? Oh, well. I retired. Got married. And now I'm a dad. — Daphne was like a daughter to him, so it was the same, right?
His nonchalant reply didn't seem to satisfy the other, though. Todd could see it, the urge to strangle him in his eyes. Dick wouldn't strangle his dead missing little brother, would he?
— You… You what? — Dick was in disbelief.
— You guys searched for me? Thanks, I guess? It means a lot. — Jason just sniffed and went on his way, leaving Grayson behind, paralyzed.
Maybe he could be fast enough and get out of there before the older one got a grasp of his senses back and followed him out. Part of him felt hope, the other heard yours and his therapist voices in his head, and the nagging was annoying. Maybe he never stopped being a “grump”, like you always amusedly said.
Oh, no. Here he comes again. Jason suppresses an eye-roll.
— Stop. Can you really explain? — The mix of emotions was almost overwhelming, an urge to cry, punch a wall, punch Jason's face, scream and who knows what more was running through Dick's body.
Jason sighed and finally addressed him completely. Tone lower so no one could hear.
— Okay. I met someone… Someone good. Someone special. A civilian. I was tired of everything. So I decided to retire and made sure none of you could find me. I'm surprised Roy and Lian kept the secret from you, though. Anyway. Now I'm a stay-at-home hubby, have a dog and go to therapy. You happy? — A beat of silence. — Hey, don't make that face… I was going to tell you guys eventually… When I felt like it… It's not like you guys saw me a lot. How much time did it take for you all to miss me? I made an appearance once in a while when someone asked for help and that's it. Alfred knew everything so if you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be at him too, not just me… And Roy. Don't forget Roy.
— A-Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, blame the butler! You couldn't even tell us? Like “hey guys, I'm gonna retire and take some time for myself for a while. Also, come to my wedding!” I wanted to be invited, you know?! Why didn't you invite me? Did you at least invite Alfred? Did- — Jason rolled his eyes and cut his rant.
— Yes, Alfred was there. Front row and everything. — Dick shrieked.
— T-That’s not the point! — His voice raised slightly from exasperation and both of them checked around for anyone's attention, then came back to the conversation.
Jason raised a hand to interrupt him and took a deep breath.
— Look. I wasn't in a nice place at the time, okay? I'm better now… And I was going to talk to you guys sooner rather than later… — Jason let a moment of vulnerability shine, hoping that would melt his brother's heart and fix things. It did. — We will have a second wedding when we renovate our vows in our 5th anniversary. You can be there… Everyone can be there. — Jason cleared his throat to interrupt the other again. — But now I have to get home in time to make dinner for my honeyboo, so why don't we… Stay in contact and… One of those days everyone can have dinner together and catch up, huh?
Dick took one of the deepest breaths of his whole life. Jason pursed his lips.
— Okay… — He stuck a finger in his face roughly. — But don't disappear again. Or else I promise I’m gonna personally make everyone track you down, understood? — Jason snorted. As if Tim and Bruce wouldn't do it already once they knew everything. As if Bruce didn't secretly keep track of him this whole time. Unless… Unless everyone changed and he didn't know his… His family anymore.
Why did it make him feel weird?
— Yes, boss. — Jason saluted him and left.
— Relax… — You elongated the word. — Nothing bad it's gonna happen… — You went behind Jason and tried rubbing his broad shoulders to chase the tenseness away. The sight and feel of his muscles almost made you drool, and you blinked to focus again.
— How do you know? — You pursed your lips and went to his side to try to make him take his eyes off of cleaning the countertop for the 4th time due to anxiety.
— Because they love you. And they care about you. And they miss you. — Jason deadpanned you. — Just give it a chance. If anything goes wrong, we will just kick them out and you never have to talk to them, ever again. We can even move if you want. Or go on a vacation to the same place we had our honeymoon, I can wear that skimpy piece you like… Spoil you rotten… — Your voice lowered seductively and you pressed your body to his side, running your hand up and down his arms with some pressure.
Jason’s mind went blank and he was speechless for a few seconds. Your eyebrows raised with a small, convincing smile that made all his worries go away. He sighed.
— Okay… Okay, you’re right… — He leaned down and sneaked an arm around your waist. You both shared a slow and wet kiss, bordering between sensual and calming. Unfortunately, he had to wait a few hours before having some action. He pulled his face away a few centimeters, looking you in the eyes. — I thought I had ripped that thing. — You blinked.
— You just might have. But I bought another one because I looked too good on it not to wear it again. — You shared a chuckle when the doorbell rang. You both looked at the door, then at each other. — Want me to get it? — You ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the last of his nerves. Jason swallowed.
— No. Have to get it over with. — He took a deep breath and then let out. Pulling away from your embrace. — Put the juice on the table for me, please? — You hummed and nodded.
Without giving a second thought, he walked in long strides and abruptly opened the door.
It was like that scene in Avengers: End Game when on one side there was just Captain America against the whole Thanos's army, just staring at each other.
— Are you wearing an apron? — Damian snarked with an eyebrow raised. Jason looked down. Yes, he was. Good start.
— Take your shoes off, there’s other shoes for you all there. And here I was having hope that at fifteen you wouldn't be a demon anymore. — Jason said sarcastically and gave them space to enter.
As soon as they got in the neighborhood they were all already skeptical. If you were the only one working, how much do you earn to live in such a nice area and with this nice house? They could even see a pool in the backyard and there were TWO expensive cars in the driveway. Jason said he quit all of the crime lord thing, did he keep the savings? Did he invest?
The little dog came running and barking, taking their attention away from the house and their shoes, Damian immediately crouched to pet her. Jason let a side of his lips go up. At least that hasn't changed.
— Her name is Daphne. — Jason spoke over the cooing of Duke and Cass at the dog. He locked eyes with Bruce who had an unreadable expression on his face. He looked older, Jason didn't know how to feel about that. Then gazed at Dick, who had a shit eating grin, Alfred, whose satisfied smile warmed his heart, and Tim, who was analyzing the space while changing shoes.
— Nice place. So, what does your partner do? — Are they committing fraud? — You appeared from the corner and replied for him.
— I direct the Queen Industries’s Gotham’s office. — You answered softly with a polite smile, stopping besides Jason, who wrapped an arm around you. Everyone's gaze turning on you made you feel shy, but you held on with confidence.
— Oh, wow, so Jason really is a malewife. — Your eyes widened in surprised and you couldn't hold back a laugh. Jason let a small smile graze his lips, coaxing the easiness out of him.
— I offered to pay cleaning and cooking service, but he wanted to do things himself. — You say, a little afraid they would get angry at you for “slavering” their Jason.
— Did you buy those cars outside? — Wow, Tim really was as skeptical as Jason had said.
— Hmhmm. — You nodded simply, as if it was nothing.
Jason's siblings raised their eyebrows and Bruce cleared his throat, and took a step forward, feet clad in fluffy slippers. He offered a hand and presented himself politely to you. You wondered how much of that was his persona and how much was just a father meeting his son's partner.
While giving them a tour of the house, the family — aside from Alfred who already knew it all — observed the details, happy memories in the form of pictures of trips, your marriage, birthdays, anniversaries, Daphne's growing stages, spontaneous moments that just deserved to be eternalized, trinkets, handmade pots, plants, Daphne’s toys, and the decor that was just a mix of you both. No guns in the walls, no corpses buried in the backyard, no blood stains. The only signals that it was their Jason living here and not a clone were the books, pictures and hidden security measures.
It was… Good. Peaceful. Clearly the change in scenario helped him. It hurt them a little, some more than others, that it took him cutting them off for him to start healing, although, maybe opening up this new side of him for them meant that it wasn't just that. And it wasn't. The fault didn't fall completely on them. Nor on Jason. And one person, you, can't be the solution for all global crisis. Mental health is complex. Trauma is complicated. Past can't be changed, but the future can.
That night, everyone enjoyed Jason's cooking, Daphne and the new future.
Like, comment and reblog 🥰
Taglist:
@wandalfnation
#batfamily x reader#masterlist#jason todd x reader#malewife!jason todd x reader#househusband jason todd x reader#househusband!jason todd#househusband jason todd#househusband x reader#malewife!jason todd#malewife jason todd#malewife x reader#malewife#male wife#platonic batfamily#platonic batfam#batfamily#batman#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#damian wayne#tim drake#red hood#alfred pennyworth#red robin#robin#robin dc#jason todd#red hood and the outlaws#red hood x reader
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How I got my life together.
Getting your life together, and I mean really getting it together, should be a priority of yours. You can’t miss out on your life by staying in a pattern of losing it all, pulling it together as quickly and as carelessly as you can, and then losing it all again because you weren’t ready enough or devoted the first time. I made a choice to pull my life together when I was 18, and I’ve stayed improving myself ever since; I bettered my mental health, fixed my body, changed my mindset, found an aesthetic and style that worked for me and that I loved, and have done my part to keep steadily improving my life and my mindset. If you are devoted to yourself and your life, you will do well and find that the path towards your future will become much clearer as time goes on.
Exercising.
You need to be exercising, bettering your body, and taking the time to nourish yourself and your health. This means eating whole meals and taking the time to cook and prepare them, considering removing heavily processed foods and alcohol from your day-to-day diet, and taking the time to do at home or in gym workouts. I do Move with Nicole videos in the morning, finish up with a quick yoga session, go to the gym in the evenings, and make sure that my body is being fueled by real foods and being properly hydrated throughout the day. You will live in the same body for the rest of your life; you need to make sure that you’re caring for it and nourishing it in ways that will let it support you for the rest of your life. You won’t regret a health journey, and you should actively be on one.
Socializing.
Isolation will kill you, and if you already have anxiety, it will worsen it. You should be meeting people, getting to know them, leaving your comfort zone, and trying new things. Your late teens and early twenties are all about taking the time to know people, making and losing friends, and figuring out the sorts of people you want to have in your life forever. You have to socialize, go to social events, join clubs and different activities, and get out of the house. I’m a person who believes in spending time around and loving other people, and that has saved my life. If you aren’t sure how to socialize, don’t have friends, or aren’t sure of what you like, now’s the time to learn how. You don’t become good at meeting people in one day; it takes time and failure, but the more you do to leave your comfort zone, the easier it will become as time moves along.
Studying.
I believe that life is meant for learning. It’s important to always be learning, to always be bettering yourself, and to always be keeping your mind busy. While I strongly believe that every woman should have a university education and a degree, I understand that it’s not always feasible. If it’s not possible for you to get a degree, you have to learn a trade, a skill, a language, or find something to occupy your mind so that it’s not idle. It’s important to always be doing something, and it’s important that you’re pursuing a passion; life isn’t much if you’re not passionate about what you’re doing, so you have to find them and do more with them. Education can come from work experience; it can come from pursuing projects, cultivating wisdom, and spending your time nourishing your mind and reading books. Life is a learning experience, and you should be in constant pursuit of educational excellence.
Seeing More.
Life is about seeing more and seeing things you’ve never experienced. If you’ve always wanted to watch a tennis match, step into the ocean, or see the sights in a new city, now’s the time to start making plans to do those things. We all deserve to see and experience beautiful things, so it’s important that we find the time to do so. If I hadn’t made the time to find beauty in the mundane, I wouldn’t have made it far. You don’t have to spend money pursuing beauty; I find the most beauty I’ve seen in my life is found on short walks and time spent around my city. You should spend your time both looking for beauty and becoming beautiful too.
Doing More.
Doing more is next. I’ve spent my life trying new things, failing, succeeding, having a good time, and learning about what I enjoy. You should be doing more; your twenties are for moving away, visiting new cities, trying new foods, working jobs you hate and finding jobs you love, going to new restaurants and getting into new relationships, and doing more with yourself. All of the greatest women I’ve ever known have told me that they spent next to no time resting in their twenties because they had so much life to live. I’d encourage you to do things without holding yourself back, and if you don’t know what to do with yourself, find things to do. You can't waste your youth being idle; now is the time to get out of your room, see the world and what it has to offer, and do more with yourself and your gifts.
Richarlotte x
#hypergamy#leveling up advice#leveling up tips#hypergamous heaux#hypergamy advice#hypergamy tips#hypergamous woman#black women in leisure#black women in luxury#hypergamous mindset#hypergamyblr#hypergamy journey#hypergamous lifestyle#hypergamous#leveled up black woman#leveled up woman#leveling up journey#leveled up mindset#leveling up#high society advice#high society tips#social climbing#marrying for money#marrying rich#spoiled gf#spoiled black women#becoming an it girl#becoming her#becoming that girl#richarlotte x
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001. CARNATIONS.
Touya did not like to be touched.
That was one of the first things you learned from your colleagues mistakes. You were now the seventh doctor to try and understand the layers of the former villain.
The news outlets had miserably failed to catch the alluring hues of his cerulean gaze. That was the first thing you concluded when you first met him.
As his psychiatrist, your job was simple. To understand Touya’s emotional trauma and help him live the rest of his life to the fullest. He was an absolute wreck. That was all anyone would call him - a mess who didn't deserve a second chance at life. Yet here he was.
His family had more than enough money to put him into a good institution, one where he could possibly recover from the terrible life he once led. It's quiet. The hospital's sterile environment is both making his skin crawl and oddly comforting. The gentle hum of the machines hooked up to his body and the bandages wrapped around every inch of skin did nothing to lessen the unease he felt when he heard the familiar telltale sign of a new doctor coming into his room.
The door rattled quietly, the sound of keys clinking together on the other side doesn't even stir him anymore. He hears slow footsteps entering through the hallway, your voice following them as you call out his name questioningly to confirm you're in the right room.
The way you say his name so softly sounds like you're calling out to an angel, and he wants to tear the words from your throat the moment he hears them.
He doesn't respond. When you approach him, he's staring at the wall in front of him.
He's sitting up, eyes barely open after it being only an hour out of one of many surgeries he would have to go through. He lays limp and utterly powerless in this stupid hospital bed - one of the strongest villains in the world was reduced to this now. Touya wonders if he's ever felt more pathetic, and no - he has never felt quite this low before.
"I'm Y/n, Touya."
You're smiling. That's the first thing he notices when his eyes finally move to where you sat on the stool beside his bed. All the doctors before you were the same, mildly disgusted but putting up a front nonetheless to try and deal with him. He thinks you're a little insane for looking at him with such a tender look in your eyes - and if he had the strength, he would tell you to leave.
"I'm your new doctor, Touya. I know you've gone through quite a few before me, but I hope you and I are able to get along!"
You shift in your seat with a nervous smile when he just stares. His half lidded eyes don't even bother to look anywhere else as he slowly takes in every detail of your face. Half of your hair is pulled back to reveal soft and full cheeks - your eyes crinkle as you lean forward with a soft smile.
"Unfortunately, you're kind of stuck with me. You've gone through the entire rotation of the best psychiatrists we have here - but that's ok! I understand you've been through a lot, so you and I are going to take this journey together, ok?"
He wants to cry. He wants to rip his hair out and slice his throat open because everything hurts and he has a pounding headache. He musters up the strength to talk. His voice is hoarse from not speaking for weeks, raspy with an undertone of something so terribly mean that you can't help but lean back in your seat with wide eyes when the words leave his scarred lips.
"Get out."
CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.
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FLIPPED──RAFE CAMERON
free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!
for this request, for my baby jojo! @wanderlusturous
─ summary | rafe is completely devoted to his pregnant wife, spoiling her endlessly and preparing for the arrival of their baby girl, who becomes the center of his world. after a life of feeling lost and disconnected, rafe finally finds purpose in his new family, vowing to protect and love them unconditionally.
─ pairing | rafe cameron x wife!reader
─ warnings | such a sweet, domestic bliss fic! rafe spoiling tf outta reader, rafe being a girl dad, mentions of toxic family, but other than that it's just so sweet.
─ ev's notes | the chokehold that gif has on me is... insane. also wheezie needs to be included more in fics like... shes so awesome (ik she hasnt done anything but thats kinda the point) ALSOOOO I NEED MORE DOMESTIC RAFE LIKEEEE, PLS SEND ME REQUESTS. i might do a part 2 for this fic cause it's so heartwarming i cannot
ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!
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You’re lounging on the couch, wrapped in the softest cashmere blanket Rafe could find, a far cry from the one you had before. That one had been comfortable too, but Rafe never thought it was enough for you, not when his princess deserved the best. The soft hum of the air conditioner fills the house, the only sound in the otherwise still afternoon, while your fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your growing belly.
Sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and you sink further into the cushions, feeling the quiet luxury that has come to define your life since you met Rafe. He’s out right now, picking up God knows what — probably more baby things, even though you already have a mountain of stuff piled high in the nursery.
He never does anything halfway. Every stroller, every onesie, every diaper cream has to be top-of-the-line, the best that money can buy. He doesn’t just spoil you, he suffocates you with care, but in the softest, sweetest way possible, so you don’t even mind. No, you love it, revel in it, feeling like you’ve been plucked straight out of one life and placed into another, where all you have to do is exist and be adored.
The front door clicks open, and you can feel his presence before you even see him. He’s always like that, larger than life even when he’s trying to be quiet. You sit up a little, trying to hide the way you’ve been lazily sprawled out, but he’s already at your side, his hands gently urging you back down.
“Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. His eyes flicker to your belly, then back to you, that familiar mixture of awe and protectiveness gleaming in his gaze. "I've got everything handled. You just need to rest."
You open your mouth to protest, to tell him that you could've gotten up, could’ve helped him with the bags, but he’s already shaking his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he can read your thoughts before you even say a word.
"Not a chance." He sets the bags down, filled to the brim with things you know you'll never touch, because he’ll do everything for you. “You’re not lifting a finger. Not while I’m around.”
His voice, low and firm, sends a shiver down your spine, the kind of reassurance that only Rafe can offer. He crouches down beside the couch, running his hands over your legs, making sure you’re comfortable—like he always does. His touch is possessive, protective, the kind that says without words, you’re mine to take care of.
You let out a soft sigh, sinking back against the plush cushions as his hand glides up to rest gently on your belly, almost like a reflex now. You’ve noticed that since you started showing, his hands always find their way there. Like he has to be close, to make sure everything’s okay. He’s obsessed, really—your safety, your comfort, your every need. It’s like a switch flipped the moment he found out about the baby, and he hasn’t let you out of his sight since.
“Everything’s fine, Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reassure him, but the way his brow furrows ever so slightly tells you he doesn’t quite believe you. He’s always worrying.
“I know,” he replies, but there’s a tension in his voice, the kind that tells you he’s already thinking five steps ahead—about the doctor’s appointments, the vitamins, the nursery. He leans in, kissing the top of your head as his other hand gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “But you’re carrying our baby. I’m not taking any chances.”
You smile at his overprotectiveness. It used to overwhelm you at first, this all-consuming devotion, but now? Now it’s like second nature, the way he hovers, always making sure you’re not doing too much, that you’re not straining yourself. He’s like a human safety net, never more than a few feet away, always anticipating what you might need before you even know it yourself.
He stands and starts unpacking the bags he brought in—high-end baby gear, of course. Another designer bassinet, this one with extra features that make it look more like a spaceship than something an infant should sleep in. You watch him move around the room with purpose, his movements fluid and sure, as if orchestrating a plan only he’s privy to. He barely spares you a glance, but you know he’s hyper-aware of your presence, always keeping you in his peripheral vision.
“You didn’t have to get all this,” you murmur, though you already know the answer. You say it more out of habit now, like you need to put up some token resistance to the endless stream of gifts and gadgets.
“I know, but I wanted to,” he says without looking up, his tone casual, but you can hear the edge of finality in it. It’s the same way he talks about everything when it comes to you—like there’s no room for negotiation. “Only the best for you and the baby. You deserve it.”
He sets down the bassinet and moves back to you, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his hand immediately finding yours. He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, and you lean into him, letting yourself relax in the comfort of his presence. For all his intensity, there’s something so soothing about him when he’s like this—calm, focused, entirely devoted to making sure you’re taken care of.
“Rafe, really… I don’t need all this. I just—” You hesitate, biting your lip. You want to say that all you really need is him, that he’s already more than enough. But before you can finish, his lips brush against your temple, silencing your thoughts.
“Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got everything.” His voice is gentle, but there’s an unshakable confidence behind it, the kind that makes you believe, even for a moment, that the world outside doesn’t exist. That as long as you’re in his orbit, nothing can touch you.
You glance over at the bassinet, the sleek, modern design standing out starkly against the warmth of the room. It’s absurd, really, how much Rafe is willing to spend, how nothing seems too extravagant when it comes to you. But that’s just him—lavish, obsessive, determined to give you a life where you never have to want for anything. And despite how overwhelming it can be sometimes, you can’t deny how intoxicating it is to be the center of someone’s universe like this.
“You think you’ll ever let me out of this house again?” you tease, half-joking, half-serious. He hasn’t exactly been keen on you going anywhere without him lately. Even the grocery store is off-limits unless he’s there to push the cart and carry the bags.
Rafe chuckles softly, but there’s a protective gleam in his eye. “Not until the baby’s here. And even then, only if I’m with you.” He’s only half-joking, and you both know it. The idea of you out in the world, vulnerable, without him by your side—it’s something he can’t stand.
You roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth that spreads through your chest is undeniable. It’s not like you want to go anywhere without him. Not really. The truth is, you’ve gotten used to this, the way he dotes on you, the way he watches over you like you’re the most precious thing in his life. It’s addictive, being adored like this.
“Fine, fine,” you say with a mock sigh of defeat, settling back against the pillows. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to being spoiled.”
Rafe’s smile widens, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, lingering. “Cause that’s not changing anytime soon.”
───
The moment he found he was having a girl, his world flipped upside down in the best way possible. The baby shower was small and private, only inviting your close friends and family. And for Rafe, he only invited Wheezie. He doesn't really have family or friends he'd want to be around—he only needs you, really.
Rafe never really had a family, not until he met you. Sarah was... well, Sarah. She used to be a part of his life, but they were worlds apart now, and Rafe had long since stopped trying to bridge the gap between them. She had her own life, her own people, and it didn’t overlap with his anymore. Rafe had always felt like an outsider in his own family, never really fitting in, never living up to what was expected of him. His father was distant, his mother gone, and his siblings—well, they weren’t exactly close.
But you? You were different. From the moment he met you, something shifted. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had something solid, something real. You gave him a reason to try, a reason to build something better than what he grew up with. He didn’t just want a family—he wanted your family. One that wasn’t broken or full of secrets and betrayals, but one where he could be the man he’d always hoped to be.
The moment he found out you were having a girl, everything inside him shifted. He wasn’t just Rafe Cameron anymore. He was going to be a father—a girl dad. The idea scared him at first, the weight of it hitting him harder than anything ever had. He wanted to be perfect for her, for both of you. He wanted to give his daughter everything he never had growing up: stability, love, safety. Things he never knew he craved until now.
The baby shower was intimate, just the way you liked it. Soft pastels draped the room, and delicate decorations hung from the ceiling, a far cry from the over-the-top events Kooks were known for. But that wasn’t you. And that’s why Rafe loved you. You made everything feel simple, real, stripping away the excess that had always suffocated him growing up.
Wheezie was there, of course, quiet and awkward as ever, but Rafe didn’t care. She was the only family he had left that mattered, the only one who hadn’t looked at him like he was too far gone, beyond saving. She wasn’t like Sarah, who had washed her hands of him long ago, or Ward, who saw him as nothing more than a disappointment.
As you sat in the corner, surrounded by a small group of friends, Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were glowing—literally glowing, your skin radiant, your hands instinctively resting on your belly. You were laughing at something Wheezie said, but all he could think about was how surreal this all was. How he’d gotten here. From the chaos of his old life to this—a quiet, perfect moment.
Rafe didn’t need anyone else, not really. His friends? They were more like shadows of a life he’d left behind. Toxic, empty relationships that had never filled the void. But with you? He felt whole. He didn’t need the Outer Banks, the parties, the fake smiles and empty promises. All he needed was sitting right in front of him—his future, his family.
You caught his eye from across the room and smiled, and just like that, the world shrank down to just the two of you. It always did. Everything else faded away when you were around. He crossed the room, ignoring the small talk and the laughter, his focus entirely on you.
“Hey, princess,” he murmured, kneeling beside your chair, one hand instantly finding your belly like it always did. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning his head against it, closing his eyes for just a second to ground himself in the moment. “You good? Need anything?”
You shook your head, resting your hand on top of his. “I’m fine, Rafe. You don’t need to keep checking on me every five minutes.”
He huffed out a laugh, but there was no humor in it, just a soft kind of affection. “Can’t help it,” he said quietly, opening his eyes to look up at you. “I’ve gotta make sure my girls are okay.”
Your heart melted at that, at the way his entire face softened whenever he talked about you and the baby. Rafe Cameron—the guy everyone thought was a lost cause, a wreck waiting to happen—was now the most devoted man you’d ever met. He wasn’t perfect, far from it. But he tried—tried so damn hard for you.
“Everything’s perfect,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “And you’re spoiling me too much. Again.”
A mischievous grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not possible. I’ll spoil you both for the rest of my life if I have to.”
You laughed, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “You already are.”
He looked up at you, his eyes full of something soft, something vulnerable. “You know… I never thought I’d have this. A family. Not like this.”
You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hand, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “Well, now you do. And you’re going to be a great dad, Rafe.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes flickering with emotions he didn’t quite know how to put into words. But then he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, as if he were afraid to let go.
“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice thick with something unspoken. “I guess I do.”
And when his baby girl finally came, his world cracked open in ways he never thought possible. Everything changed in an instant—the noise of the hospital, the rush of doctors, the sterile white walls—all of it faded into the background the moment he saw her. Tiny, fragile, perfect. His heart seemed to stop and race at the same time as the nurse handed her to him, her soft whimpers breaking through the silence like a delicate melody.
Rafe had never known he could love something this much. Not until he was holding his daughter in his arms, her little fingers curling instinctively around his thumb, her eyes barely opening to reveal the softest hint of blue. In that moment, every bad decision he’d ever made, every reckless move, every mistake—it all faded away. Nothing mattered anymore except this.
She was his.
His chest felt tight, his throat constricting as he tried to wrap his head around it all. The weight of responsibility hit him like a wave, but it wasn’t fear that came with it. It was a sense of purpose, a deep, unshakable need to protect her, to give her everything. To never let her feel the kind of emptiness he’d grown up with.
You were lying in the bed, exhausted but glowing, watching him with a tired but content smile. Rafe caught your gaze and smiled back, tears threatening to spill over as he gently cradled your daughter against his chest, her tiny body fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm.
“She’s so small,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, barely above a breath. He felt like he was holding the most precious thing in the world, something so delicate he was terrified of breaking her. But at the same time, he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.
“She’s perfect,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of warmth. “She’s ours.”
Rafe swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were quickly clouding his vision. His thumb gently brushed over the soft tufts of hair on his daughter’s head, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt.
“She’s more than perfect,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”
You smiled gently, reaching out for his hand. “You don’t have to say anything. You’re doing it, Rafe. You’re already her father.”
The words hit him like a punch to the chest. He’d never been sure if he’d be good enough for this, good enough for you, for the family you’d built together. But looking at his daughter, her tiny face so serene in his arms, he knew he’d never stop trying. He’d move mountains, tear down the sky, do anything and everything to keep her safe.
Rafe stood there for what felt like hours, rocking her gently as you dozed off, exhausted from labor. He couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter, couldn’t believe she was real. She had your nose, your delicate features, and he could already see hints of his own wild streak in her.
It terrified him, and yet it filled him with a pride he couldn’t put into words.
As she shifted slightly in his arms, letting out the tiniest yawn, Rafe felt his entire world center itself around her. His priorities had changed in an instant, everything he’d once thought was important—money, power, even his own survival—seemed so insignificant now. The only thing that mattered was the little girl sleeping soundly against his chest.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’m never letting you go. I promise.”
And in that moment, he meant it. Every word.
He didn’t need anything else—no approval from his family, no redemption from his past. He had you, and now he had her. His little family. A family that was his to protect, his to love, his to spoil with every fiber of his being.
Rafe knew he’d made mistakes—plenty of them—but as he held his daughter close, he made a silent vow to her. He’d be better. He’d always be better for her.
Because now, his world wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about her, about you. And for the first time in his life, he had something worth fighting for that didn’t come with strings attached or conditions. It was just love. Pure, overwhelming, unconditional love.
And Rafe Cameron was never going to let that go.
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#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#obx smut#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#obx fic#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fandom#outer banks fanfiction#obx#obx season 4#obx 4#outer banks x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you
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"Feed on life as it feeds on you."
Answering a house sitting advertisement for a wealthy family friend, you make the journey to Southern Florida to fulfill a contract of seven weeks in exchange for enough money to float you comfortably through your final year of university. With keys to a mansion just a few hours from the beach and the promise of solitude under the Florida sun, you’re set for the summer of a lifetime – until you show up to the house and find out your employer is dead.
Unbeknownst to you, something hidden in the mansion calls for your claim – something many are willing to kill to possess, regardless of if you are caught in the crossfire. Attempt to leave and live ignorantly, blissfully under a veil of paradise, or capture what riches live hidden in secret.
Banyan Gulf by V. Lovisa @vlovisa
Customize yourself, the Main Character. Choose your name, appearance, gender, pronouns, and a variety of other factors throughout the story.
Interact with and influence your relationship with a cast of five main romanceable characters and other side characters.
Form alliances, or work on your own to uncover the secrets that await you.
Decorate the room you stay in at your employer’s mansion. Choose wall color, bedding, decor, and special personalized elements to help you feel at home during your stay.
Choose your attire for formal events and other select scenes.
Determine your motivations – does money, fame, love, or something deeper drive you to find what lies hidden in the mansion?
Luisa Morales (she/her) – Ambitious as she is brutally honest and determined, Luisa is an entrepreneur at heart. She aims to someday open her own tattoo shop, she’s been practicing tattooing since she turned 18. Her best friend Drew has become her practice canvas, since she’s run out of room for more work on her left arm and can’t tattoo left-handed. Luisa intends to make it big on her dreams, no matter the cost, and desires to create a sturdy and steady life for herself doing what she loves. She is 24 years old and 5’2. Luisa is Mexican, with brown eyes and long wavy hair that she has dyed dark cherry red.
Drew Robins (he/him OR she/her) – When they are not working at their family’s restaurant or deliberately annoying their best friend Luisa, Drew is a recreational hobby addict. From drawing to sports to drink mixing to mountain climbing, Drew has tried just about everything. They aspire to create a life where money isn’t a concern and they can pursue every one of their passions freely. Drew is 24 years old and 6’1. Male Drew has relatively short curly blond hair, and female Drew has long curly blonde hair that reaches the middle of her back. Drew has pale blue eyes and is white.
Lorelei Wildes (she/her) – Once the most popular person in Banyan Gulf due to the extent of her family’s riches but now socially disgraced due to a family scandal, Lorelei is burnt out of the city. Her one aspiration now is to escape, buy herself a house so grand it’s a step short of a vacation resort close to the beach, and live in the most luxurious way possible. Lorelei is drawn to everything beautiful, everything restful, everything perfect. She is 23 years old and 5’8. Lorelei is white, with green eyes and light brown hair that almost reaches her waist.
Oscar Carter (he/him) – An aspiring screenwriter and film director, Oscar has his sights set on becoming the most renowned filmmaker in the world. It’s a sizable ambition, one many have told him is impossible, but through it all Oscar has remained a dreamer, an artist, and is making progress on his aspirations through directing music videos and short films. Oscar is 22 years old and 5’11. He is black, with dark eyes and black locs that reach just below his collarbones.
Ronan/Ruby Hall (he/him OR she/her)– With their eccentric sense of humor and work as a chef and part-time graphic designer, Hall is known for their individuality and drive to live in their own way. In the back of their mind they hold the goal of being a full-time artist someday when they have the time and focus to give to creating. For now, they’re content to live in their own chaos. Hall is 25 years old and 5’9. They are mixed Thai and white, with light brown eyes and black hair (an overgrown mid fade for Ronan, and hair that reaches just below her collarbones for Ruby).
POLY ROUTES:
Lorelei & Oscar – The love they once shared has faded, but is not yet lost. Only you might ignite what lies dormant between them, if you so wish.
Luisa & Ruby/Ronan Hall – Their relationship could never feel complete without the warmth you bring to unite them.
Banyan Gulf is an interactive fiction game that is intended for mature audiences. The game includes many potentially upsetting themes, such as foul language, smoking, drinking and recreational drugs, general violence, weapons (knives, guns, etc), death, murder, suicide and suicidal ideation, cannibalism, gore, and optional romantic and/or sexual content. Please be mindful of these warnings when considering if Banyan Gulf is right for you.
DEMO TBA — BUY ME A COFFEE WHILE I WRITE
#interactive fiction#interactive game#upcoming if#choicescript#interactive novel#if#choicescript if#if game#if wip#interactive fiction wip#wip#writeblr#writers of tumblr#dashingdon#hosted games#cog game#hosted game#cog#banyan gulf#banyan gulf if#v. lovisa#banyan gulf v. lovisa
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My heart goes out to people thinking about leaving the US today, to people who are immigrants, to black people, to trans people, to women, disabled people, indigenous people, to people who have to go to work today at black owned businesses, to people who are visibly trans, to people of color, to people from marginalized communities, systems and therians, people struggling with money, people struggling to find a job, people who don't have a support network, to people living outside of the US who are affected by its actions, to people from Palestine, Congo, Sudan, to people who have already lived and suffered through fascism before, to people who will see and feel it for the first time, to people who wish they hadn't woken up today, to people who knew this would happen, to people who did whatever they could to stop this, people who thought they could make a difference but feel like they didn't do enough, and to everyone who is scared today, my heart goes out to you all. I love you
I hope you have people around you right now who will not rub in your face what an obvious outcome this was, but that your fear and sorrow are valid. I hope they can comfort and be there for you, when it feels like the world is crumbling around you. Today you might leave your house terrified, and I hope things go as well as they possibly can. Your fear isn't unfounded. You've very likely lived through this before, and many others did, and you'll get through it. It won't be easy. I'm sorry. We've been here before. Democracy has failed you before. You still matter. The lives of people who are struggling right now matter. A lot of people right now are afraid, contemplating suicide, reliving their trauma, and things feel hopeless. Marginalized people have survived a lot of horrible things. We've been there for each other, and we have to be there for each other right now too. You deserve dignity, but institutionalized democracy won't be there to give it to you. Please, look after yourself. You matter. The life that they're trying to take away from you matters. I love you
You can only try and be there for others and yourself. You can only try and do good, and follow your convictions. You can only try and stay alive and enjoy the company of those around you, to enjoy life, and to enjoy anything comforting right now. You can only try and organize yourself and your community, support others, comfort your friends, hug someone you care about. Make art, complain, do something, do anything. But rest too. You might be exhausted, and there's only so much you can do. Fixing this, fixing the world is not your personal responsibility, but a community effort. Focus on the small, manageable things. Be there for those who are close to you. Try not to overextend yourself. Drink some water, exercise, pick up a new hobby, write a poem. Comfort others and accept their comfort. They want you to be well as much as you want them to. You'll get through this. You'll live. I love you
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oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.
if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!
—Sole Survivor
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞
When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble.
He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all.
Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you.
Alive.
It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.
And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did.
“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face.
“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with.
You know your family loved you.
“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath.
“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.”
“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!”
“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.”
You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation.
“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly.
“What, then?”
“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”
He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.
You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened.
“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious.
“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk.
“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”
You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly.
“It’s a compliment.”
“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.
“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.
“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”
It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her.
He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon.
“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”
Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.
“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of.
Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other.
There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks.
You wave enthusiastically back.
“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”
#I actually want to write a longer fic with this prompt#so i might do that...#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#cod mw22#x female reader#mw2#call of duty x you#mw2 2022#cod simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#cod simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty x reader#ghost mw2#ghost cod#cod x female reader#x fem!reader#cod mw#cod mw2
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Wildest Dreams | BW
pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything
a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list
taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli
☽☽☽
Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.
You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.
You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.
Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.
Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.
You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.
One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.
“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.
You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.
Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.
��Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”
As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.
“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.
You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.
You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.
“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.
“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.
Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.
“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.
He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.
You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.
During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.
You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.
Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.
Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.
You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.
It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.
Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.
From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.
“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”
“Good,” you smiled contently.
#bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader#bale!bruce wayne#bale!bruce wayne x reader#chrisitan bale batman#Batman#batman x fem!reader#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne#the dark night x reader#the dark knight trilogy#the dark knight#dc comics#christian bale fluff#christian bale x reader
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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - two
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: maybank!reader x sorta canon!rafe; doesn't exactly follow the real plot line but...it does?; am i turning this into a series? maybe.
word count: 6k...
Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened. It couldn't have happened; it must have been a figment of your overactive imagination.
There was no way in hell you would have let Rafe Cameron have you on top of a dining table, living up to the derogatory "dirty pogue" nickname. You were better than that. You knew better.
Despite that...You found it impossible to look at him for the next forty-eight hours. In fact, facing yourself in the mirror became a challenge, so much so that you refused his help in tending to your wound. Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age.
Initially, there was clearly tension between you and Rafe.
Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—but there were bigger things at stake, and so, you pushed the nagging feelings aside, focusing on one thing only: getting out.
You and Rafe didn’t mix, oil and water, two stubborn bastards with heavy emotional baggage. Sometimes it was tricky to work together, but other days, it flowed so easily it gave you whiplash.
In the time that followed, you both worked tirelessly to plan your getaway, meticulously plotting every detail to ensure success and not another round of bullets.
Your job was to sit around and act innocent, while Rafe had to ensure you had a way out and enough money to pay someone off. Avoiding Ward was easy enough since he spent most of his time in Guadalupe.
Rafe scoffed; his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the small, weather-beaten boat skeptically. "I'm not getting into that piece of shit. No fucking way," he declared, voice dripping with disdain.
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the frustration growing in your chest.
He was so fucking insufferable.
"Oh, so you've got a better suggestion?"
He shot you a glare, but you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes caught the shimmer of the clear night sky, "I do," he retorted, gesturing towards a sleek motorboat moored nearby. "That one looks like it might get us somewhere without sinking halfway."
You followed his gaze, your entire face scrunching up as you took in the sight of the motorboat. It was certainly more modern and well-maintained than the rusty old dinghy you had been eyeing, but something about it made you uneasy.
"Hell no?” you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. "It seems a bit...too much. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."
Rafe rolled his eyes, "C'mon,” he scoffed, "This isn't the time to be playing it safe. We need to get out of here, and that boat is our best chance."
You bit your lip, torn between your instincts and Rafe's seemingly reckless impulsiveness.
On one hand, you didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but on the other hand, you knew that time was running out and you needed to act fast. Ward was coming back to the island soon enough and if he dragged Rafe away with him…you were a lost cause.
There was no third chance.
“What about the guards?” your voice dropped to a whisper as you glanced around nervously. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your plans.
“I’ve got it covered,” Your skepticism must have shown on your face because he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not about to let us get caught. I’ve been dealing with Ward’s security my whole life. I know how to slip past them.”
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Fine. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”
“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.”
"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"
"Keep your voice down."
The sleek motorboat gleamed in the fading light, its potential for escape glinting like a promise of freedom.
As night fell, you both moved with practiced stealth, with a reluctant nod, you followed him towards the sleek motorboat. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept a lookout for any sign of the guards.
Rafe moved with the confidence that you envied, quickly untying the boat and preparing it for departure. You glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the shout of a guard at any moment. Every shadow seemed like a threat, every noise a potential alarm.
“Hurry up,” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder.
“Calm the fuck down,” Rafe muttered, though he did quicken his pace. “We’re almost ready.”
Your anxiety spiked. This was it. No turning back.
Rafe started the engine, the low rumble sounding like a roar in the silent night. You winced, half-expecting the noise to draw attention. The sound was louder than you expected. But luck seemed to be on your side.
“C’mon,” He whispered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble, “Get in.”
You climbed aboard, your hands shaking as you settled into the seat.
“Go!” you urged, glancing back at the docks nervously.
Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. The boat lurched forward, cutting through the water with surprising speed. As the island receded into the distance, you felt a little hope. For the first time in months, freedom was within your reach.
As he guided the boat out of the harbor, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Rafe said, a hint of smugness in his voice.
“Just keep your eyes on the water,” you retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.
He adjusted the throttle, the boat picking up speed. "Relax, Maybank. Enjoy the ride," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern.
You shot him a withering look, gripping the edge of your seat. "Just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”
He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?"
"Frankly, I don’t care what you think you know. Just keep us moving.”
Rafe's hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing. The silence between you was a common thing, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the night. The coastline was a distant memory now, the open water vast and foreboding. You kept scanning the horizon, every wave hiding a potential threat.
"You're acting like we're about to get ambushed by pirates," Rafe finally said, his tone lighter but still edged with that irritation.
"Better safe than sorry," you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.
Rafe let out a sharp laugh. "Always so paranoid. That's what gets you in trouble."
You whipped your head around to glare at him.
“No, your family got me in trouble. In case you’ve forgotten.”
His face hardened, the easy bravado slipping for just a moment, “Huh, right. ‘Cause your friends are such fucking saints.”
“At least they’re not murder—”
You cut yourself off before you said it, but the damage was done anyways. Rafe's jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching again as he ground his teeth, lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't respond verbally, but the anger you could feel radiating from him was answer enough to you.
He turned his attention back to the horizon, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. The boat's engine roared louder as he increased the speed, the vessel slicing through the water with renewed urgency.
The waves splashed higher, and the night air became colder, but Rafe didn't seem to notice. His focus was absolute. Yeah, he was pissed.
What could you possibly say? Apologize?
There was no way in hell you were apologizing to him. Not after everything his father had put you through. If anyone owed an apology, it was him. And you knew you'd see the world end before Rafe Cameron ever uttered those words.
It was infuriating. There he was taking a step forward, leaving his loyalty to Ward behind and he still refused to show remorse if not between four walls with you. Never out in the open, never too loud.
You sat in silence, each lost in your thoughts, the weight of the past not letting you calm down the way you really wanted to. It was done.
And although you wished things had been differently, they weren’t.
Despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled at the back of your neck, tension coiling in your muscles. The night stretched on, like it was never ending, you hated every minute of it.
After what felt like an eternity, light appeared on the horizon, signaling the approach of dawn. You breathed a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.
The worst was over, for now at least.
Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “We’re almost there. Keep an eye out for any patrol boats," he instructed, his voice curt and businesslike.
He was all focus still, that calculating side that had always unnerved you.
You nodded, scanning the waters diligently. The further you went, the more the reality of your situation sank in. You were out there, in the middle of nowhere, relying on a Cameron to get you to safety. The irony was almost laughable.
“Where are we heading?" you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer, dulled by the exhaustion.
"We'll head south, find somewhere to lay low for a while. I've got contacts who owe me favors."
“Uh? We’re not going back to The Outer Banks?”
He shook his head, attention fixed on the horizon. “No. Not unless you want to get killed.”
The Outer Banks, once your home, now felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. You should’ve figured Ward would send someone after you the minute he figured you were gone. A loose end.
Shills ran down your body as you remembered your close encounter with death.
"Your contacts won’t sell us out?"
He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "They know better than to cross me. Criminal, remember?”
You sighed, ready to jump into the water if it meant a little space from the unbearable atmosphere. Despite everything, you couldn't ignore the nagging feeling of guilt from what you’d almost said before.
“You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Listen,” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but you continued, “I don’t care, okay? Not right now. What matters is that you’re here, not with him.”
Rafe's face softened slightly; the hard edges of his demeanor were momentarily blunted by your words. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing over something in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued than before.
“If you say so.”
As you drew nearer to the shore, details of the island began to come into focus. Lush greenery blanketed the landscape, punctuated by towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was oddly like the place you’d been stuck in for months, but this time, there was no sense of dread in you. The boat slowed as Rafe expertly maneuvered it into a small cove, sheltered from prying threats by rocky outcrops and overhanging foliage. With a soft thud, the vessel came to a stop, the engine sputtering into silence.
Once he was done, he stepped onto the water, knees deep as the sandy shore still lay a little ahead.
You blinked in confusion as he turned to you, his arms open wide in a gesture that left you momentarily perplexed. The water lapped gently against the sides of the boat, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.
"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.
“Helping you.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his simple gesture of assistance. It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, a faint blush tinged your cheeks at your slowness.
In all fairness, you weren’t used to this side of Rafe. You’d only seen it a few times and it was…something else entirely.
“Right.”
As Rafe's hand brushed against your waist while helping you out of the boat, your skin prickled in goosebumps. Traitor.
You quickly brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to nerves from the situation. With a grateful nod, you stepped onto the sandy shore, feeling the warm grains shift beneath your feet. The island stretched out before you, its landscape dotted with lush vegetation and towering trees. It was larger than you had expected, much bigger than Ward’s private hell.
"We should find a place to sleep,” you said, turning to Rafe as you scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization.
He nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours as he surveyed the landscape. "Let's head towards the center of the island. There should be some motels.”
With a shared nod, you set off along the sandy shore, the waves crashing against the beach providing a rhythmic backdrop to your footsteps.
As you walked, an uneasy feeling crept over you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, maybe it was just the paranoia that had become like second nature to you over the past year.
After a while, you noticed a winding path leading into the dense foliage of the island's interior. Without a word, you and Rafe followed it, venturing deeper into the heart of the island.
The sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds.
Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, you emerged into a clearing. Before you stood a beat up motel, its faded paint and weather-beaten facade blending seamlessly into the surrounding landscape.
"This should do," you said, nodding towards the building, "I guess."
“Yeah. Good for a night or two, my contact won’t be here till then.”
As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Rafe followed closely behind you, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the dimly lit room. You approached the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat slouched behind the counter, flipping through a magazine with half-hearted interest.
"Hi there," Rafe said, flashing a charming smile as he leaned casually against the counter. "My wife and I are looking for a room for the night."
His what?
Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly hid your reaction, playing along with his impromptu act. It was obvious it wasn't the first time Rafe had pulled a stunt like this, and you had to admit, he had a talent for getting what he wanted.
To pretend and lie his way out.
The clerk glanced up from his magazine, peeking over the two of you with mild curiosity. "Sure thing," he said, his tone disinterested. "How many nights?"
"One for now," Rafe replied smoothly, reaching into his pocket to produce a wad of cash that you hadn't even realized he had. It was a substantial amount, more than enough to cover the cost of survival for at least two weeks.
The clerk took the cash without comment, handing Rafe a key with a grunt of acknowledgment.
"Room 203," he said, gesturing towards a staircase in the corner of the lobby. "Upstairs, second door on the left."
"Thanks," Rafe said, pocketing the key with a nod of gratitude. He turned to you; his expression unreadable. "Let’s go, baby.”
Baby?
He must've been out of his goddamn mind. His hand found yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt oddly intimate. You glanced at him, confused, but he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly, focused on the hallway.
When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh. That always happened with him, there was always something new you couldn’t pinpoint, but eventually got used to. The charming, panty-dropping posture was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual brooding demeanor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a modest but comfortable-looking room.
“After you.”
You swallowed your surprise at his manners and stepped into the room, grateful for the relative privacy it offered. Rafe followed close behind, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen-sized bed dominating the space and a small television mounted on the wall opposite. A worn armchair sat in the corner, and a narrow window offered a glimpse of the night sky outside.
"It’s a fucking dump,” Rafe said, his tone light but with an underlying note of exhaustion. "But it'll do for now."
You sank onto the edge of the bed, resting the mattress. “Better than my room back home.”
“Really?”
"Don't act so surprised. We're not exactly living in luxury over there."
You could see the realization click on Rafe's face as if he’d forgotten your background, “Didn’t think it was that bad for you.”
"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."
“I can sleep on the floor, relaaax.”
You shot him a skeptical look, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Seriously? You'd actually sleep on the floor?"
He shrugged, "Why not? It's not like I haven't slept in worse places."
You didn’t want to delve into that.
Instead, you only stared at him for a moment, searching for any hint of insincerity in his expression. To your surprise, you found none.
Moments like these reminded you that he was human, and you hated it.
“Okay.”
With a weary sigh, you rose from the bed and began to remove your shoes, the events of the day finally catching up with you. Exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you down like an unbearable weight.
Rafe watched you for a moment before turning away to rummage through spare sheets and pillows, preparing a makeshift bed. There was no time to change clothes; you had left the little you had behind.
As you slipped beneath the covers and closed your eyes, you couldn't ignore the possibility that this was only the calm before the storm. It felt too easy.
You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, “Don’t fucking snore, Cameron.”
Rafe chuckled softly, the rare sound carrying through the darkness of the room. "Wouldn't dream of it, Maybank.”
Hours later, you woke suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of your consciousness.
For a moment, you lay there in the darkness, disoriented and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Then, you heard it—a low, murmured voice coming from the other side of the room. Turning towards the source of the sound, you saw Rafe lying on the makeshift bed on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain.
He was tossing and turning restlessly, his brow furrowed as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath. The sight of him trapped in a nightmare weirdly stirred something protective within you. Despite everything, despite the walls he put up, you didn’t like to see him in pain. It felt so familiar, and for a second you were back home, in your room, rocking yourself back and forth after waking up in hysterical screams.
Moving quietly, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.
"Rafe," you whispered softly, trying to rouse him from his slumber. "Hey, wake up."
In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear nearly knocked you out instantly but your body instinctively started against his hold as you struggled to break free.
Muscle memory and all.
"R-Rafe!" you gasped, your voice coming out in a strangled whisper as you clawed at his hands, desperate for him to let go. But he was so lost in the grip of his nightmare, his grip unyielding as he continued to squeeze, his eyes wide and unseeing.
Panic took over you as the world started to blur around the edges, darkness creeping into your vision while your lungs burned for air. Frantically, you tried to call out to him again, to wake him from whatever hellish nightmare held him in its grasp, but your voice was little more than a choked rasp.
“Rafe!"
Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure around your throat disappeared, leaving you gasping and wheezing for breath as you collapsed against the bed.
Blinking away the tears that pricked at your eyes, you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes.
"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling, "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"
His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.
It was a startling thing to witness , seeing the usually composed and confident Rafe Cameron reduced to this, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see. For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do or say.
But then, instinct kicked in again,and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.
He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could.
Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline.
You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”
Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."
You remained silent, holding him close as he slowly calmed down. The weight of his body against yours was oddly comforting, grounding you and pushing back the memories of his violent outburst just moments before.
After a while, Rafe pulled away slightly, his eyes red-rimmed but clear as he looked up at you "I didn't mean to hurt—”
You reached out and brushed a stray lock of his blonde hair from his sweaty forehead.
“I know," you whispered softly, “It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”
You didn’t know why you offered him that solace.
"You do?"
You nodded, though you knew he couldn't see it in the dim light.
"Yeah," you admitted, "They’re pretty bad too.”
There was a brief pause, filled only with the sound of your quiet breathing and the distant hum of the night outside.
Then, Rafe spoke again, "What do you dream about?"
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something in Rafe's earnest expression told you to be honest, to let down your guard just this once,
“Luke. You?”
Rafe's immediate reaction was defensive, hands pulling away from your body, “Doesn't matter."
You felt stupid for asking him such a personal thing.
He wasn't like you.
“Do you want to sleep in bed with me? It might be better than the floor."
"I'm fine on the floor. Don't worry about me."
But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.
With a sigh, you reached out and gently grasped his arm, turning him to face you again, "Rafe," you said, voice borderline pleading, “Just sleep on the bed. Okay?"
For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the bed, but with a reluctant sigh, he nodded.
"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."
With that, he rose from the floor and cautiously joined you on the bed. You shifted slightly to make room for him, and as he settled beside you.
“Don’t snore.”
“Not more than you do.”
The rest of the night passed in a blur of fitful sleep and restless dreams, but somehow, with Rafe by your side, it felt bearable.
When morning finally came, you awoke to find he was already gone, his side of the bed cold, no traces of his presence, and a messy scribbled note left behind on the bedside table.
"Picking up food and clothes, brb. Don't open the door."
You felt relieved that he hadn't disappeared without a word and was instead putting in the effort to rely on you.
Deep down, you knew he had left as soon as he woke up, probably sprinting out of the room to avoid waking you and having any awkward confrontations about last night. It was going to be a long day, especially if he was determined to hide his emotions. You knew the old, bad Rafe Cameron would make a reappearance.
You got up from the bed and stretched. You needed a shower. You stank. It had been two days since you had washed yourself properly, and the thought of having gone to sleep in such a state made you want to hurl.
You’d have to ask for another set of fresh sheets if you stayed another night.
As you stepped into the bathroom, the warm water cascading over your skin felt like a dream, washing away the previous night. The steam filled the small space, enveloping you like a comforting embrace as you took your time, allowing the water to ease the knots of stress from your muscles. You focused on washing away the dirt and grime, letting the familiar routine ground you.
Yet, even as you lathered soap onto your skin, your mind couldn't help but drift back to Rafe, to the way he had clung to you in the darkness.
Another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence.
You stepped out of the shower, the steam still lingering in the air and with a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you stepped back into the main room of the motel, feeling refreshed.
“Huh, good morning to you too.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin, “Fuck!”
Rafe stood there, leaning against the doorway, something similar to a playful smirk at the corners of his lips as he watched your startled reaction.
His arms were laden with bags of groceries and a few articles of clothing.
"Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were alive in there."
You stared at him incredulously, “Turn around!”
He scoffed, walking into the room as he closed the door with his foot, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
He said it so casually, it irked you. As if you two hadn’t been purposely ignoring that night ever happened. You shot him a withering glare, snatching a towel from the nearby chair and aiming at his face, full force.
"That's not the point, Cameron," you grumbled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “And you didn’t see shit. I was dressed.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, catching the towel with ease before tossing it back to you "What's the matter, Maybank? You shy all of a sudden?"
“Will you shut up?”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he leaned against the nearest wall.
There was no point in getting into a pointless argument with him, especially not when you had more important things to worry about. Instead, you focused on drying yourself off and getting dressed in the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.
As you emerged again, fully dressed and composed, Rafe had already begun unpacking the bags of groceries, laying out an assortment of food on the small table in the corner of the room.
The sight of the makeshift spread made your stomach growl in anticipation, reminding you just how long it had been since your last meal.
“Hungry?” Rafe asked, glancing up from where he was arranging the food.
You nodded eagerly, making your way over to the table and helping yourself to a plate of fruit and plain toast.
As you ate, Rafe filled you in on his plans for the day. It was strange, hearing him talk so casually, without insults, without fear, or threats. For so long, you had seen him as nothing more than a spoiled, entitled rich kid, content to go through life on his family’s wealth and influence.
But ever since that night, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of respect for him. He wasn’t Ward.
When he finished speaking, you glanced up from your plate, “Sounds like a plan. Is your contact here, yet?”
“Nah, only tomorrow.”
“Great. So, we’re on our own for now?”
“Yeah, you and me, Pretty Maybank.”
"Hey," you began, your tone light as you tried to sound casual, "I've been curious—why do you call me 'Pretty Maybank'? Is there a story behind it?"
Rafe's gaze flicked up from where he was picking at his food. He seemed taken aback by your question as if he hadn't expected you to bring it up.
He shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted his voice casual but tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just seemed fitting, I guess."
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Fitting? How so?"
Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that.”
You felt like there was more to the story.
“Oh.”
He leaned back, now sat in the old chair, “Might start calling you snoring Maybank though.”
Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile, “You’re not funny. At all.”
“Sure.”
You tilted your head, studying him intently. He looked like a completely different person from last night, “Do you feel any better?”
“About what?” He feigned innocence, avoiding your gaze, as his fingers started tapping nervously on the table. You knew what that meant.
You leaned forward as you reached out to touch his hand gently. “Uh—Y'know, last night, your nightmare.”
“Don’t,” Rafe's abrupt change in demeanor catched you off guard, his walls shooting up in an instant, his tone laced with defensiveness.
You straightened up as you withdrew your hand, a wall of your own rising to match his.
"It’s not important," he snapped,"Just drop it, okay?"
You recoiled at his harsh tone, the way he spoke down at you making you want to slap him across the room. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever demons haunted him in the night, and you knew better than to push him when he was like this.
But you were feeling inspired.
“Why do you always do that?” You blurted out, frustration taking over your mouth.
You needed some sense of security around him, and every single time you were close to getting it, he backed out.
He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you “Not doing anything.”
"You always shut me out," You continued, words coming out in a rush as you struggled to articulate your feelings. "Every time. You say a few words, and then bamb, gone. We’re not friends, that’s fine. But I need to know you’re someone I can rely on, okay? You can’t be doing this. One moment you’re all trusting and the other…I don’t even know what the fuck you are. You can say no nicely, you don’t need to act like a dick.”
Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted,"I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."
The words stung like a slap to the face.
You felt the color drain from your face.
"Protecting yourself?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "From what, exactly? Me?"
He didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Keep your voice down.”
You shook your head, standing up from your seat. He'd said the same exact thing before you got on the boat and you were tired of being pushed aside like a toy.
“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”
Rafe felt himself flinch, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly. There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy.
"You think I don't know that?" he growled, “You think I don't carry that guilt with me every single day?"
His words caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face.
"You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door. “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."
You let out a groan, the sound scraping against your throat. "I’m trying to help you! Are you stupid? Oh my god.”
"I don't need your help!" he snapped, standing taller than you, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been doing just fine on my own."
You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, "Fine? Is that what you call it? Living on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing who you can trust? That's not fine, Rafe. That's not living."
His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, “I don’t know how to live. I know how to serve, that’s it.” His grip on your wrist tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself, "I just...I can't."
Can't trust you, you think that's what he wanted to say.
“Right,” You swallowed, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”
His grip loosened slightly, his hand falling away from your wrist as if burned, “I never said that.”
“You don’t have to. Dirty pogue, remember?”
His breathing mirrored your own, both erratic, leaning in closer, breath hot against your skin as his nose brushed against yours, “You think I’d risk my life for you if I believed that?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
“You have no idea," he breathed, “Do you?”
"I don't understand you."
"Neither do I."
Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch seemed to tingle between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely.
You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. Like he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.
“You can’t keep kissing me to avoid questions.”
"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."
You sighed, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his stubbled jawline, "It's wrong."
He closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at your words. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, and retreat into his shell. But then, to your surprise, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.
"I know," he murmured against your lips,"But for now, can we just...be?"
You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."
Neither of you knew what you were doing nor the consequences to come.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe x pogue!reader#rafe x Maybank!reader#rafe cameron x maybank!reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe angst#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fluff
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you'll never find anyone like me — one. (l.dh)
PAIRING: lee donghyuck x afab!reader GENRE: college au, fluff, mature WORD COUNT: 14.9k
SYNOPSIS: you’ll never find anyone like lee donghyuck, and that’s what makes him so exciting.
CHAPTERS WARNINGS: slow burn(ish) type, so much plot & way too much dialogue, alcohol consumption, explicit language, a lot of mentions of donghyuck being obsessed, heavy tension between reader and donghyuck, mentions of parties & drugs, donghyuck comes across as very straight forward and also flirty, pretty people make reader nervous lol (especially donghyuck), tension between two main characters but no smut yet.
AUTHORS NOTE:: its finally here!! i'm so excited to start this series with you all, thank you for your patience!! also, for anyone new, this is linked to my 'NEO TECH COLLEGE' jaemin series 'the way life goes' although this can be read as a standalone.
[SERIES MASTERLIST]
It wasn’t exactly ideal enrolling into class halfway through the year, knowing you’ll have to go through that godawful stage of trying to make friends with people who already have chosen their own clique to spend the rest of their college years with.
You’re, unfortunately, the new student, the one that’ll be singled out during group projects or the one they pick last for the group because they didn’t want to choose you first… you really don’t know which one is worse.
Looking for a place to settle down was a close second to being one of the worst things to do after enrolling late. You didn’t have enough money to live by yourself and you sure as hell didn’t want to live with someone you hardly even knew, but you had to pick one, so you went with the latter.
Areum was actually the sweetest (and coolest) person you have ever met.
She welcomed you into her two bedroom apartment with open arms and even helped get you settled into your new room by offering to unpack your boxes and decorate the way you preferred, allowing you to have all the creative freedom you needed to call this place your home too.
Areum had even taken time out of her own busy schedule to show you around, letting you know about all the best food joints, best places to go to get coffee, best album stores to get your preferred music and even the best hangout spots.
It was, undoubtedly, a lot to take in.
Areum even introduced you to Minjun, a childhood friend of hers who is a college dropout and now the drummer in a two-man band with his older brother. (They’re pretty good, even though the older brother scares the shit out of you).
Minjun was the complete opposite of Areum yet they were alike in so many ways, it was easy to make friends with him just as it was with Areum. Minjun was sceptical of you at first though, but he immediately warmed up to you when you complimented his drum set to which he then showed you how to play. (You had no idea, but it was fun).
You cherish the friendships you have made with the two deeply even though you felt like you were intruding at the beginning, especially when you realised how long they have actually known each other and how close they are. But the pair happily invited you into their small friendship with big grins and playful jokes.
You were grateful to be starting something new with people who you felt instantly comfortable with, you were excited to see what your time in college had in store for you.
“Shit!” You repeatedly curse under your breath as you hurry across campus grounds with your bag strap sliding down your shoulders and your phone held tightly in your grip, staring down at the time that shined angrily at you due to your lateness.
Being late on your very first day wasn’t exactly something you wanted to experience, but the pressure of getting everything ready and the stress of overthinking lead you to being exhausted and oversleeping—you wanted the ground to swallow you up when you received the mass texts from Areum asking if you made it to your class in time.
You fix the strap on your shoulder as you rush into the building, eyeing the signs on the walls that would easily lead you to your music class and you groan when you realise it’s at the far end of the building, breaking out into another sprint and you’re grateful there’s no one around to see you make a complete fool of yourself as you run.
Glancing down at your phone, you wince at the time and you look back up to make sure you’re going to right way but you curse under your breath when you realise you’re heading straight towards someone’s back and you don’t even have time to stop yourself or control your speed, already bumping into them at full force which causes them to stumble forwards from the impact.
The person they’re with steadies them and you manage to get a quick glimpse at the girl who’s looking at you in shock before the victim spins around, his eyes angry and ready to curse you out but you don’t even notice how his eyes soften when he looks at you as you’re already profusely apologising to him.
“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I—fuck—I didn’t mean to fall into you like that, I’m just late and—”
“It’s fine.” The girl cuts off your rambling, sending you a reassuring smile as the guy continues to stare at you and you nod, mumbling another quick apology as you turn your head and see the door to your assigned class, quickly slipping through the door and letting it close shut behind you, heart racing rapidly in your chest at the full class of students who briefly glance at you before returning to their work.
The Professor looks up from his computer when you enter the room, gazing at you over the rim of his glasses and he gives you a welcoming smile, beckoning you over with his hand and you head straight towards him, getting ready to apologise for being so late but he’s already opening his mouth to speak first.
“I’m surprised you’re starting halfway through the year, but I’m happy to have you in this class. Welcome,” He smiles warmly at you and it instantly makes you feel better, your shoulders relaxing with a breath of relief as you smile back at him thankfully. “I’m Professor Kim Hongjoong. I’ll be your music Professor during your time here and if you need any help with anything, I’d be happy to give you some guidance… although, I have to encourage my students to ask one another. Team bonding type of stuff.”
“Noted.” You laugh lightly with a nod, adjusting the bag strap on your shoulder.
“Great.” Professor Kim grins up at you.
He dismisses you to a seat at the far back of the class next to a boy whose face is shoved into his computer screen, chunky headphones resting on his head as his fingers dance across a piano keyboard, nodding to the notes that play smoothly in his ears and you pull out the seat to sit beside him, sliding your bag off your shoulder and letting it rest by the legs of the chair.
Capturing your seatmate's attention, he turns to look at you and gives you a warm and welcoming smile, pulling the headphones from his head to rest around his neck. He introduces himself as Xiaojun and he takes the opportunity to point out everyone in the room to let you know their names, and even though it didn’t exactly help and you sure as hell wouldn’t remember everyone's names, you were grateful at least.
“How come you enrolled in the middle of the year?” Xiaojun suddenly asks you and you give him a sheepish grin in response. He raises a questioning brow, “Wasn’t going to enrol or something?”
“Something like that.”
“Interesting.” Xiaojun hums and he turns his head back to his computer screen while your attention is brought towards the classroom door that swings open, and embarrassment immediately washes over you when you recognise the guy that steps inside, the one you had forcefully slammed into on your way here.
You sink down into your seat in hopes to avoid him to keep your own dignity and your brows pull together in confusion when you see his eyes glance around the room, tilting his head to the side in thought and tongue prodding at his cheek as he scans over the row of seats before he finds you.
His lips curl into a smirk and his eyebrows raise in a way that has your heart thumping rapidly in your chest, immediately drawing your attention away from him when he drops down into a seat beside Yangyang, (a guy that Xiaojun had pointed out to you when filling you in on everyone’s names), who is too busy scrolling through his phone to notice his presence.
“Donghyuck.”
“What?” You hum, glancing at Xiaojun when you hear him mutter.
“That’s Donghyuck, the one that just came back in/” Xiaojun tells you and you made a small noise of acknowledgment, taking another peek over at him only to avert your eyes away when you realise he’s already looking at you and you feel hot, a little embarrassed and awkward at being caught.
“Has he got a staring problem or something?” You catch yourself mumbling under your breath and your eyes widen when you hear Xiaojun snort, completely capturing what you had just said and you groan, leaning back into your chair with a frown as Xiaojun looks at you with an amused smile.
“Something like that.”
The class surprisingly goes by quicker than you thought and both Professor Kim and Xiaojun were kind enough to fill you in on what you’ve missed so far, and what’s coming up soon. Luckily, as you enrolled in so late, you were excused from the upcoming assignment but were given a side task to write down everything you had knowledge of, including the instruments that you’re skilled in playing.
You found it quite simple and you’re positive you can jot down everything tonight so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later on. You’ve always been eager to please, so there was no way in hell you were going to leave this until the last minute.
You rise from your seat and grab your bag, slipping the strap over your shoulder as you subconsciously peer over at the other end of the room, your heart thumping wildly in your ears when you catch Donghyuck’s eyes already looking back at you while talking to Yangyang, leaning back on the desk with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and leather jacket draped over his arm.
His deep and intense gaze makes you feel nervous and you find yourself fidgeting in your spot, unable to tear your own eyes away from him, locked under his stare and the smirk that he gives you sends goosebumps rippling down your spine.
It’s when he pushes himself off the desk that brings you out of your trance, panic flooding through you when it seems like he’s about to advance towards you but he stays in his place when a hand carefully touches your arm, causing you to quickly turn towards the person that wanted your attention.
Xiaojun’s smiling warmly at you, but you’re surprised when you see that he’s not alone and instead, there are two other guys standing with him.
One wears a green hoodie beneath a grey jacket and matching coloured jeans, a beanie on his head with blue strands of hair peeking from beneath. The round, thin framed glasses on the bridge of his nose makes him look cute, yet the boyish grin he gives you makes you feel a little flustered and you move your attention to the other boy beside him.
He’s a lot more quiet and awkward, opting to give you a tight lipped smile as a greeting and nodding his head to say he’s acknowledged you. You’re not surprised by his shy demeanour𑁋especially with how he’s refusing to make eye contact and how his fingers nervously fiddle with the bracelet dangling on his wrist.
“This is Mark,” Xiaojun points to the one in the hoodie. “And this is Jihoon,” He points to the other before he turns to you and gives you a smile, “These guys are who I spent the majority of my time with, unfortunately”
“You love us, dude,” Mark’s boyish grin returns as he pats Xiaojun’s shoulder who playfully rolls his eyes and Mark looks at you. “You’re welcome to join us for lunch if you want?”
“Oh, thank you,” You smile appreciatively but it slowly drops when you realise what you had planned already. “Can I join you some other time? I have somewhere to be today.”
“Of course you can.” Mark’s grin widens as his hand removes off Xiaojun’s shoulder to gently knock yours and you grow nervous under the small contact, a shy smile spreading across your lips as you bid them a silent goodbye, brushing past the trio to get to the door and your mouth goes dry, your nerves amping up to a hundred as you once again meet Donghyuck’s eyes from his position next to Yangyang, how he watches you with a hint of intrigue and interest swimming in his irises.
You miss the way his eyes snap towards your new friends with a locked jaw, tongue prodding at his cheek as you leave the room.
Watching Areum work has always been fascinating to you: in awe of the talent that pours out of her hands and the patience she has when it comes to sculpting certain objects and/or people for projects or just to pass the time, how every piece is precise and perfect𑁋a complete masterpiece.
It’s the look of determination and joy that seals the deal for you, how happy and content she seems to be whenever she’s in her zone, and having the opportunity to witness her working in the studio at college for the first time is definitely the highlight of your already long and interesting day.
You bite into your lunch as you watch her from behind get her hands dirty while sculpting her recent project, soothing out the curves of a woman’s body that she has been putting together while humming a tune that plays quietly from the radio on the windowsill beside her.
Areum takes a step back to admire her work, a sound of approval slipping past her lips before she decides to take a break, unzipping her black overalls halfway to take her arms out of the sleeves and tying them around her waist securely so the rest doesn’t fall down completely, allowing her tattooed arms to be freed and on show with her white shirt.
“Did you make it to your class in time this morning?” Areum asks you as she leans against the open window, pulling her strawberry vape out of her pocket to take a drag and you shake your head, causing her to chuckle lowly. “I thought Minjun put an alarm on your phone before he left last night?”
“I slept through it,” You say bitterly, taking another bite of your lunch as she clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Thinking about today got me stressed and I overslept. Ended up almost being an hour late and not only that, I practically body slammed someone because I rushed to get to class. It was embarrassing.”
“Ouch,” Areum teases while scrunching her nose up, taking another hit out of her vape and blowing the smoke out of the window. You roll your eyes, twisting the cap on your bottle of water to take a sip. “Made any friends in your class though?”
You side eye her, “You sound like my mother,” She smirks at you. “Got to know this guy called Xiaojun. He introduced me to his friends Mark and Jihoon just before class ended. I only know those three so far.”
“Good,” Areum hums with an approving nod. “I know Mark and Xiaojun, I’ve bumped into them a few times… don’t know Jihoon though.”
“He’s kinda quiet,” You admit, remembering your very brief encounter with him. You smile, “He didn’t say anything but he seemed welcoming at least. They offered me to join them for lunch but I said I already had plans today.”
“You ditched them to hang out with me?” Areum looks at you with a blank expression and you nod, giving her an innocent grin as you finish off the last bite. “I don’t know whether to thank you or call you stupid.”
You swallow thickly, “I know you better than them so being with you right now is the safest and comforting option to me. I’d like to get to know them more eventually and hang out with them… but it’s kind of hard to do that when I get shy and awkward around people I don’t know.”
“You did well with me and Minjun,” She praises you and you feel your cheeks grow hot at that, trying to fight the smile that threatens to slip onto your lips. “But don’t worry, you got this. Take your time, there’s no rush.”
“I’m not going to rush,” You tell her, resting your chin on your hand as you look over at her, your other hand tapping a mindless tune on the wooden table. “I’m taking everything slowly.”
It took you just over a month to get comfortable in your new college.
You managed to remember everyone's names in your course and despite not talking to some of them, they had become easier to remember overtime.
Xiaojun, Mark and Jihoon never left your side during classes and just like Areum and Minjun, they also welcomed you into their group with open arms and jokes that had you laughing until your stomach cramped up and tears pooled in your eyes.
Jihoon became a lot more open with you as you did him. He was just like you—shy and awkward around people he barely knew or wasn’t comfortable with yet, didn’t want to speak up or take control of the conversation in fear of saying something silly, but when getting comfortable with the people it was non stop talking and cracking jokes, even pitching a few sarcastic comments here and there to make others smile.
Xiaojun and Mark were similar—outgoing and confident, striking up conversations and making friends as if it was the easiest thing to do, making others feel invited and welcomed although there was a few moments where you see their shy tendencies come through the cracks, noticing how shy Xiaojun got when being compliment on his voice when singing a song to himself under his breath and when Mark gets shy when he receives unwanted attention from others that compliment his work or his looks.
Aisha, a girl in your class, was one of the people that would compliment Mark over and over again, making him flustered and cheeks grow red with each word and giggle that slips from her lips. She’s gorgeous, so it doesn’t surprise you that Mark gets shy easily when she comes near.
Aisha is one of the people you haven’t properly spoken to yet. Her sociable and popular presence leaves you a little intimidated. You’ve shared a few friendly smiles and some small words in passing, but you haven’t had the courage to speak to her fully.
You, admittedly, like to admire her from afar. Seeing how confident and friendly she is, how she teasingly flirts and prettily smiles at others who conversate with her, how her delicate hands play with her healthy hair that cascades down her back, how her siren-like voices lures people in when she’s talking or even singing.
It makes you jealous, but not in a bad way. You could only wish you had the same confidence and likeness.
Donghyuck is another person you haven’t spoken to yet. You feel nervous being in his presence, how his intense gaze leaves you speechless and unable to think properly. How his lingering touches on your skin leaves goosebumps running down your spine every time he brushes past you to either get to his seat or if he was just walking by in the hallways.
He glances over his shoulder each time, lips curling into a grin, dark eyes piercing through you as he meets your eyes and takes in your appearance, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip before it tucks between his teeth as he takes in your outfit of the day.
Even if you’re wearing something that completely covers you, he makes you feel bare.
Xiaojun is the one that tells you to stray far away from Donghyuck, that he’s nothing but a ‘slut who loves attention and flirts with any living thing’. Mark did however clap back and told Xiaojun that he himself loves the attention too, which caused Xiaojun to jut out his bottom lip in a pout and turn away, but Mark mentioned how Donghyuck can be a little crazy sometimes and to try and not let his continuous stares and actions get under your skin.
You agreed, saying that wouldn’t be the case, even though you’re lying through your teeth already.
He is getting under your skin, leaving his mark on you and truthfully, it’s interesting.
You will never admit that out loud.
“Why are you being so quiet?” You hear somebody ask you suddenly and you rip yourself out of your thoughts, blinking at you try to see where the source of the sound came from but you let out a huff as a weight is knocked against your shoulder, hissing as you turn your head to see Minjun who had dropped down to the sofa to sit beside you.
He’s grinning at you in greeting but mumbles a quick apology when he realises he’s hurt you, rubbing the sore area before pulling his hand back to pull his phone out of his pockets.
You stay silent for a moment, staring at him as he mindlessly drums his fingers against the side of his phone as he reads a text and you immediately recognise it as the new song that he and his brother have been working on, the corner of your lips stretching into a smile.
However, his drumming comes to a sudden stop when Byeol pounces up on the arm of the sofa on his left, staring at Minjun with his tail slowly swishing behind him before he steps down onto Minjun’s thighs to find the perfect spot to rest and Minjun clicks his tongue against his teeth in annoyance.
“I hate this cat.” He grumbles under his breath despite raising his hand to pet Byeol behind his ears, loud purring noises rumbling from his chest. Minjun glances at you, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?” You mutter as you reach over to pet Byeol too.
“About why you’re being so quiet.”
“There’s no reason,” You tell him truthfully, smiling as Byeol nuzzles his head into your palm. “I was enjoying the silence and just thinking about some things.”
“What things?”
Your eyes snap to him, teasing in your tone, “None of your business.”
“Ouch. You wound me,” He speaks monotone, pulling his hand away from Byeol to adjust the beanie on top of his head. “I have a show this weekend at Cherry Bomb, you’re coming right?”
“Obviously,” You hum. “Me and Areum never miss your shows.”
“Lucky charms,” Minjun grins, raising his hand with his pinky outstretched and you snort, wrapping your own pinky around his and squeezing tightly. “EJ and his girlfriend are coming too so we’re going to grab a few beers with them after it, yeah?”
“Sounds good to me,” You nod, retracting your hand from his to pet the cat who’s now climbing into your own lap, rubbing his face in the cotton of your shirt. You purse your lips in thought, “Can I invite people?”
Minjun raises his brow in interest, “Who?”
“Just these guys I’ve made friends with—they’re on my music course,” You briefly explain but you feel the need to go further as Minjun continues to stare at you. “They saw my Instagram post at your show a few weekends back and they asked about you, and they said they’d be interested in seeing you play and—”
“They can come,” He cuts off your rambling, grinning up at you and your brows pull together when he nudges your shoulder. “You don’t have to ask, you know. The more the merrier, right? Besides, Seungwoo will be happy to see some new faces listening to our music.”
“Is he giving you a hard time?”
“Just the usual,” Minjun shrugs. “Worried about the number of people showing up to watch, the amount of unfinished songs he’s written, stuff with our parents too… they’re not exactly supportive of me dropping out of college and him leaving work to pursue music. They say it’s a waste of time.”
“But you’re good at what you do,” You tell him truthfully with a kind smile. “Both of you. You’re booking out bars and performing in front of big crowds almost every weekend, I say that’s pretty impressive.”
The corner of Minjun's lips lift upwards, his head tilting to the side slightly as he looks at you, “You think so?”
You nudge his shoulder, “I know so.”
Minjun breaks out into a full smile this time and he nudges you back as a small gesture of a thank you before he shifts in his seat, getting comfortable leaning against the cushions as he resumes scrolling through his phone.
You relax into him, peering your head over his shoulder to watch the screen as he shows you his current Instagram home page filled with musicians, concert photos and the occasional selfie of those he follows. You hardly recognise any of them, apart from the few Areum had posted and EJ with his girlfriend, but you still wiggle your eyebrows suggestively and make flirty comments when you see the sexy mirror pictures posted by some.
Minjun just rolls his eyes and tells you to be quiet, huffing as he angles himself away from you.
“Oh, I didn’t realise you were here,” You hear Areum’s teasing voice from behind and you crane your neck to see her make her way over to the both of you, a fluffy white towel wrapped tight around her body and another wrapped around her hair from her previous shower.
She sits in the single loveseat opposite, crossing her legs beneath herself to get comfy and a smile slips upon her lips as Byeol meows loudly, jumping down from your own lap and to find comfort on hers, nuzzling himself in her towel and Areum holds him to her chest, stroking his fur and cooing softly.
“I’m always here.” Minjun gives her a grin.
“Unfortunately~” Areum hums, pressing gentle kisses on the top of Byeol’s head and Minjun rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.
Areum grins, already feeling proud at already getting under her best friend's skin but you knew deep down that it was just a little joke, knowing first hand how they always bite at each other to try and get one of them to react and lose, adding another point to their mental tally chart.
She coos as she talks to Byeol, scratching below his chin and rubbing behind his ears as you smile at the sight, hearing his loud purrs resonate from where he’s sitting on her lap and Areum’s phone that’s been gripped in her hand vibrates loudly, causing her to pull away from Byeol for a moment to check her screen.
You watch as her brows raise slightly, a smirk spreading across her cheeks and her bottom lip gets caught between her teeth, thumbs quickly tapping against the phone before she raises her head up, looking over at you with an unfamiliar glint in her eye.
Your face scrunches up, confused. “Why are you looking at me?”
Areum cocks her head to the side, “How do you feel about experiencing your first college party tonight?”
The sight in front of you is definitely… something.
The house is a lot bigger than you anticipated, expecting to be brought along to a little apartment or even a club for your first official college party, but Areum had thrown you into a complete loop as she brought you to a not so little apartment or club that was already filled with drunk college students, some already even sprawled across the front lawn messily making out or even staring up at the sky giggling to themselves.
However, you grimace a little when you see someone come stumbling out of the house with their hand clamped over the mouth, barely making it towards a bush before emptying out their stomachs with the most gruesome of sounds.
A guy comes jogging out of the house shortly after with a water bottle in hand and his phone in the other, your mouth starts to feel a little dry, the attractiveness and confidence that oozes from him as he comes closer stuns you for a moment, the shyness taking over you when he grunts and squats down to tend to the drunken person with their head shoved into the bushes.
The tight black fitted shirt he wears shows off the muscles beneath, how they bulge and tense when he reaches out to caress the person’s back as they retch loudly and your eyes can’t help but shift to his thighs, how the pants are tightening around them which each movement and you gulp, pulling your attention away when you feel Areum slip her arm through yours.
“Seems like you got your hands full already.” Areum speaks first with a teasing tone that’s directed towards the guy and he raises his head, dark eyes glistening under the night sky as he grins at her.
“You got that right,” He chuckles softly, putting the water bottle down on the grass to run his fingers through his dark mullet, gazing at you. “You’re new. I’ve never seen you here before. I’m Jeno.”
You introduce yourself and he repeats your name back to you with a hum and a nod, then he smiles and wishes you a good time at the party before turning back to the person who had seemingly stopped throwing up, ordering them to drink the bottled water and saying how he’s going to call a cab for them to get home safely.
Minjun, who had been quiet this entire time watching every thing unfold, gently pushes your shoulder to get you to walk and Areum pulls you towards the house by your arm, the loud music blasting inside already hitting your eardrums and you’re instantly hit with the smell of alcohol and weed when you enter.
The inside is a lot more chaotic than the outside, you conclude.
Sweaty bodies pressed against each other as they dance or makeout, some even fondling each other to which you immediately avert your attention away when they glance your way. Others are in small groups talking and even playing drinking games, you can just about see a group playing cup pong from where you’re standing at the entrance.
Minjun leans down to murmur in your ear, “So, what do you think so far?”
“It’s…” You pause, pulling a face. “Something. Very crowded. There’s people everywhere.”
Minjun’s chest rumbles with a laugh, “And this isn’t even the half of it.”
Your eyes widen at the possible fact of there being more people in the house, already feeling overwhelmed and Areum’s hand slides down your arm to take your own, lacing her fingers through yours as she helps weave you through the crowds, Minjun hot on your tail as he follows behind.
You glance around while she leads you both to wherever she wants to go and you spot a couple lounging together on the sofa, the pretty blonde smiling at her boyfriend who’s gently tucking her hair behind her ears as he’s mumbling something to her and she nods, causing the boyfriend to grin and clink his drink against hers.
“Here,” Areum’s voice grabs your attention and your turn your head to look at her when you feel her hand slip from yours, noticing that she’s brought you to the kitchen where only a few partygoers are standing, nursing their drinks and chatting with friends. Areum opens the cooler and passes a beer over to Minjun who dips his head in silent thank you before turning to you, “Want a beer? A seltzer?”
“Beer.” You’re thankful she hands you one that you’re familiar with, the ones that the three of you have shared in your apartment during movie and game nights, immediately cracking it open to take a sip and the satisfying burn and flavour that that runs down your throat has you smiling.
It unfortunately doesn’t take long for you to start to feel out of place, your back pressed against a wall in the far corner of the kitchen as you watch Minjun smoke with a guy you overheard is called Sunwoo, a dopey grin smile spreading across his cheeks every time someone had waltzed up to him with money in their hand for one of his baggies that he takes out of his pocket to slip into theirs.
Areum had politely excused herself from you a few moments prior to greet someone you somewhat recognise as one of her previous hookups, watching as Areum’s hand slips around her waist to hold her close to her body and the girl lets out flirtatious giggles, winding her own arms around Areum’s shoulders as they whisper in each others ears.
You sigh, pursing your lips as you take a glance down at the beer in your hand, shaking the can slightly to feel how much drink was left for you to drink and you frown when you notice it’s empty. You push yourself off of the wall and discard your empty beer in the overflowing trash can, opting to open the cooler and grab another to keep yourself preoccupied but you’re startled when another hand reaches in too, brushing against your own.
“Oh, sorry—” The voice pauses mid sentence and you glance up, your eyes widening in surprise when you see Xiaojun staring back at you with a similar expression. “It’s you!”
“What are you doing here?” You ask with a smile, excitement flowing through your veins as Xiaojun gives you a welcoming side hug, rubbing your back comfortingly.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Xiaojun pulls back to adjust the backwards cap on his head, not before running his fingers through his hair. You take this moment to take in his appearance, surprised to see him out of his knitted sweaters and chinos which is replaced with a loose fitted grey tank top and dark jeans, showing off his physique which caught you off guard immensely, not expecting to see the muscles.
“My roommate told me to tag along,” You briefly explain to him, pulling your eyes away from his arms and he hums in understanding, handing you a beer before grabbing one for himself. “Are Mark and Jihoon here too?”
“Jihoon’s at home. This isn’t his, uh—” Xiaojun waves his hand around comically. “—type of scene, you know. Mark’s around here somewhere though, lost him when this girl tugged his arm wanting to speak to him in private.”
You make a small noise as you nod your head, assuming that it was another student proclaiming their attraction towards Mark as you have witnessed many times before, feeling bad every time Mark had rejected them even if he was sweet with his words.
The confidence that people had to confess their feelings to the person they liked always made you jealous, wishing you had the courage to admit your own likeness towards someone but you could never get it out, knowing that the words would constantly get stuck on the tip of your tongue and the fear of rejection wasn’t exactly something you wanted to experience.
So you always held back on telling people how you felt, especially if you liked them. But yet again, seemingly lucky for you, there has never really been anyone that you’ve truly liked. You’ve had small mindless crushes that you knew would lead into nothing and you’ve been in the presence of a few attractive people that definitely make your heart flutter, but it’s never enough to make you want to confess.
A gentle touch on your arm brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head to see Minjun standing beside, a gesture to show that he was finally back with you and you couldn’t have been more happier to have more people at your side, giving him a smile to which he returns, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.
“Oh. You’re the guy.” Xiaojun speaks up, eyebrows raised to his hairline in shock as he points at Minjun who looks back at him, seemingly confused but he slowly nods anyways which makes you snort quietly, finding the sight comical. “The drummer from that band, the one on her Instagram—LŒV, right?”
“Yeah,” Minjun hums in surprise before he makes a noise of realisation, piecing two and two together. “You must be one of the guys she told me about, that wanted to come see us play this weekend.”
You zone out of their conversation when Xiaojun praises him for his musical skills, the pair diving deep into the music discussion which usually you would’ve participated in any of time, but you find yourself getting distracted as you watch Areum delicately stroke the back of another girl that she’s talking with, pulling her in closely to whisper in her ear and laughing when the girl pushes her shoulder playfully before tugging her back in.
Your attention however pulls away from the pair when Areum places two fingers beneath her chin to bring her in for a kiss, feeling awkward to give them an audience and finding interest in a potted plant in the corner of the room, your lips quirking up into an amused smile when you see a drunk cradling it like a newborn, stroking the leaves and cooing.
The sight in front of you is hilarious and you would’ve taken out your phone to take a picture it if wasn’t for the fact you didn’t know this person, not really wanting to be caught and questioned taking pictures of someone you barely knew even if it would make a great memory… and definitely a great birthday card.
But your eyes flit away from the drunk to the guy that you met outside. Jeno, you remember his name. He strides into the house with a dark wet patch over the front of his clothes and an empty water bottle.
First, you grimace at the thought of that person he was taking care of outside throwing the water over him in a drunken fit, but then you feel a little warm and flustered when you realise that the water had made his shirt and pants stick to him more than it originally did, outlining his body perfectly, defining the muscles beneath the materials.
“Why are you ogling Jeno?”
“I’m not,” You immediately defend yourself, attention snapping back to Xiaojun who's already staring back at you with an amused smirk, raising his eyebrow. “I’m not.”
“Pretty sure you are,” Minjun joins in this time and you harden your gaze at him, causing him to grin. “You like him?”
“No.”
“He’s attractive, for sure,” Xiaojun hums, taking a glance at him over your shoulder and watching him as he disappears up the staircase, probably to change out of his wet clothes. “I wouldn’t get too close to him though,”
Now that piques your interest, “Why?”
Xiaojun opens his mouth, ready to tell you what you’re surprisingly desperate to hear until he closes his mouth, brows rising in shock when you feel someone's arms slip around your shoulders to bring your back into their chest.
You immediately recognise it as Areum, the sweet citrus smell of her perfume overwhelming your senses and you turn your head to the side to see her already smiling at you, giving you a comforting squeeze before letting you go to stand beside you to greet Xiaojun.
Xiaojun seems hypnotised by her beauty just like many others are and it doesn’t surprise you, the beauty and the confidence that radiates off of her is enough to have your own heart thumping in your chest and feeling shy whenever she meets your eyes or gives you a pretty smile.
“I’m Areum,” She introduces herself as she reopens the cooler to fetch herself another beer. “Her roomie.”
Xiaojun whispers back in a daze, “Hi roomie.”
The look on Xiaojun’s face was comical when it slipped into conversation that Areum wasn’t interested in men, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open in shock as he profusely apologised, worried that his dazed look and minor flirtatious comments made her uncomfortable but she shook her head, laughing as she explained everything was fine and that he had no way of knowing her preferences.
Still, the trio got along quite well and even Mark, who joined in a few minutes prior after complaining about how he was locked in the bathroom for five minutes, got along with Areum and Minjun too. It made you smile, seeing the people you liked getting along with each other and exchanging socials and numbers, it also made you miss Jihoon a little bit, wishing he was here so you could introduce them to your duo of friends.
However, you did make a mental list to remind yourself to text Jihoon tomorrow morning and tell him you’d add him to the groupchat that Xiaojun was desperate to make.
It doesn’t take long for you all to split from each other too: Areum grabbing your hand to steal you away for a little while and you were surprised that Minjun didn’t follow behind like he usually does, but you were happy to see him so comfortable enough to stick around with Mark and Xiaojun who were happily discussing music techniques and even other bands they both seemed to enjoy.
Areum brought you to the living room this time where the music blasted from the stereo, making it a lot harder to hear what she was saying to you but you managed, opting to lean in close so she could whisper in your ear and you did the same.
You’re feeling awkward and uncomfortable now though, nursing the third beer in your hand as everyone around you either dances or heavily makes out with the person they’ve come with or even just met, finding it hard to focus your attention on anything as in every corner you look, you see people wrapped up in each other.
A gentle touch is placed on your arm, “Are you okay?”
“Hm?” You hum, looking at Areum who is staring back at you worryingly. “Why?”
“You’ve gone quiet,” She points out and a frown makes its way onto your lips, “Want to go home?”
“What? No. It’s fine,” You quickly shake your head. “I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“You’re not ruining anything,” Areum chuckles softly and when her gaze flicks over your shoulder, you see the surprised look on her face. “Seems like you’ve got an admirer tonight.”
Her words have you making a noise of confusion and she nods in the direction of your so-called ‘admirer’ and you’re embarrassingly quick to whip your head around, not making your movements subtle at all which she snorts at in amusement.
Your heart thumps loudly in your ears as you spot Donghyuck manspreading on the sofa a few feet in front of you, long dark hair hanging over his eyes and a joint resting between his lips which he inhales deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs for what seems to be an eternity until he exhales, passing the joint over to Yangyang all while staring directly at you.
You feel hot beneath his intense stare, the dress you're wearing now seeming a little too tight and revealing that you subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself to cover up, not missing the way Donghyuck’s lips curl into a smirk before he brings a bottle up to his mouth, chugging the alcoholic beverage.
You clear your throat, “That’s Donghyuck.”
“I know.”
Your head snaps towards Areum in surprise, “You know?”
“Yeah, of course,” Areum laughs lightly as she puts down her empty beer can on the windowsill. She presses her lips together as she leans back against the wall with her hands shoved into her low cut jeans. “Everyone here pretty much knows Donghyuck. He’s best friends with Jeno and that group.”
“Jeno…” You repeat the familiar name and you jab your thumb in the direction to where he’s standing, now dressed up in something completely different than last: wearing a white and dark grey ombre dress shirt with the buttons left undone, revealing his toned chest. You couldn’t look at him for too long without feeling flustered. “Him?”
“It’s his house—” She pauses, “Their house. They all live together, all five of them. But the sixth one recently moved out to live with his girlfriend.”
“Oh,” You blink, the curiosity inside of you building. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”
“They’re well-known,” Areum shrugs nonchalantly. “Some might say popular, I guess. Everyone pretty much knows everything about them… For starters, Jeno is the main guy that throws all these parties. He’s kind of a gym freak and he’s secretly really smart, he’s an engineering student. Jeno’s also one of those quote unquote ‘renown fuckboy’. He dated Miwoo for a long while—she’s the black haired one wearing a pretty black dress—but they broke up,
“Jaemin is one of the quiet ones, kind of mysterious in some ways too. You’ll hardly ever see him that much though, but he does appear every now and again to be around Jeno—they’ve been best friends for years. He’s a photography student who used to be in a serious relationship with a girl named Eunbin but they broke up. He did end up having a friends with benefits relationship with one of the girls in the group and then they got together, she’s currently away on a writer's trip,
“Renjun’s also one of the quiet ones, more of an observer. He sits in silence the majority of the time but he’s mean when he wants to be, plus doesn’t exactly take shit from anybody either so he can be kind of intimidating to some people. He’s an art student, some of his work is showcased on the walls in the art department. He’s also dating the pretty blonde that he's sitting with his arm around right now—Haru,
“Shotaro is the friendly and cute one that constantly smiles no matter what type of situation he is in. He’s pretty chilled out, carefree. He’s a dance student too… a really good one. He’s practically the baby of their group—everyone has a soft spot for him. He did however end up getting into a fight with Hyunjin because Yeji—Hyunjin’s ex—kissed him at a party. But even though Hyunjin was the one that threw the first punch, he ended up looking worse than Shotaro thanks to Yangyang who jumped in,
“Yangyang is another renown fuckboy, practically fucks anyone with a pussy between their legs. I’m almost positive he has slept with the majority of the girls in this room. He drinks and smokes weed a lot, and recently he’s been taking some harder stuff until he can’t physically function too. He once had a crush on one of the girls in their group—Jaemin’s now girlfriend—but nobody really knows what happened between them. I’m assuming he kept his feelings to himself considering Jaemin and her are all coupled up now, but anyway. Yangyang’s best friend is Donghyuck, you probably won’t ever see one without the other, they’re like two peas in a pod,
“Donghyuck… he’s interesting, I guess. A jokester, pretty dramatic at times but he can also switch into his serious mode which hardly no-one has ever seen. He parties a lot, definitely can outdrink anybody in this room. Smokes weed too and pops a few pills thanks to Sunwoo. He’s a little emo too which gives him a lot of attention—he’s attractive, he knows it. He sleeps around a lot and with anyone too, he plays both teams. But something kinda flipped in him after a while when he got a little obsessed with Aisha who actually rejected him not so long ago—”
“Isn’t, like, obsessed too much of a harsh word?” You cut her off with a frown, not liking the way she explained him to you. “Maybe he just had a crush on her or something? A big one?”
Areum laughs at that, clearly amused as she shakes her head. “No, sweetheart. When I say obsessed, I mean obsessed. The thing with Donghyuck is that he gets obsessed with people he likes pretty quickly… It’s like he gets infatuated with them, wants to give them his all and more.”
You can’t help but ask, “Is Aisha the only one that he’s been… obsessed with?”
“I doubt it. I heard that Donghyick was once obsessed with Jeno when they first became friends. It’s not that shocking, to be honest. Jeno is an attractive looking guy,” Areum explains to you as she pulls her hand out of her pocket, now holding a strawberry flavoured vape and placing it between her lips to inhale. She blows the smoke out of the corner of her mouth, making sure not to aim towards your face. “Donghyuck’s obsession with people can be pretty intense and sometimes I think Aisha made a lucky escape, although I’m familiar with how much she enjoys attention so she’ll probably want it back once she realises he’s got a new obsession.”
“A new obsession?” Your brows raise in surprise at that and you lean in closer as if what she’s telling you is about to be top secret. “Who is his new obsession?”
The smirk that spreads across Areum’s cheeks makes your body buzz and heart beat rapidly in your chest, growing even more curious but also nervous to know the answer as you watch as she takes another quick inhale of her vape before glancing over your shoulder.
“Well, with the way he’s staring at you over there with that look in his eyes, I think you’re the next target,” Areum’s eyes meet yours. “You’re his new obsession, sweetheart.”
His new what?
“No I’m not,” A laugh forces its way out of your throat, a nervous one at that. You found it slightly ridiculous, really. There was absolutely no way that you could be his ‘new obsession’. It doesn’t make any sense. “He hardly knows me. We haven’t even spoken a word to each other… I think you’ve got it wrong.”
“Maybe,” She hums, eyes flickering over your shoulder once more. “But with the way he’s walking over here, I think I might be right on this one.”
He is what?
You’re glued in place, unable to turn around and see if she’s telling the truth or teasing you. The look on her face seems serious which makes you feel nervous, but the tone she uses is light which makes you think maybe she is playing tricks, wanting to tease you and see your reactions.
But it’s the deep call of your name and the warm hand touching your upper arm is what makes you realise that she is, in fact, not lying.
The nerves and the anxiety kicks in as you turn to face the person who had called out your name, your breath getting caught in the back of your throat as you meet Donghyuck’s dark eyes and that smile you have seen plenty of times before in class—the smile he always gives you when you catch his attention and when you meet his gaze.
Having been this close to him, Donghyuck, without a doubt, is prettier up close and your tummy flutters at the proximity, almost wanting to take a step back just to put some space between you so you can breathe properly, to conjure up a thought or to even start the conversation as it dawns on you how long you’ve been embarrassingly quiet for.
“Hi,” You greet him, mentally kicking yourself for how silly your voice sounded. You open your mouth to speak again and you immediately regret what comes out, “You’re the guy from my music class.”
One of Donghyuck’s brows lifts in amusement, seemingly surprised but also enjoying how you’re pretending you don’t already know him but he plays along anyways, nodding his head slowly with that smile that makes your hands clammy. “I��m Donghyuck.”
“Donghyuck,” You repeat with a nod. His eyes darken at you saying his name, tongue coming out to sweep over his bottom lip to wet it. “I’m—”
“I know who you are.” He cuts you off and the embarrassment you feel amps up to a hundred, remembering how he called out your name a few moments prior. You’re unsure why you’re acting weird and awkward, maybe it was because he made you feel nervous.
“I’m going to get us another drink,” Areum tells you, placing her hand on your shoulder to get your attention and you turn to her, eyes widening at the thought of her leaving you. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
The second Areum slips into the crowd to head towards the kitchen area, Donghyuck takes her place by the wall, leaning against it comfortably as his ringed fingers run through his dark locks, pushing his bangs out of the way and revealing his forehead for a split moment before his hair falls back into place, the tips almost touching his eyes that never seem to leave you.
He finally asks, “Why did you pretend not to know me?”
“I don’t know,” You immediately reply, unable to stop yourself. “I didn’t mean it. I think I’m just nervous.”
The smile on his face widens before his bottom lip gets caught between his teeth, tilting his head to the side, “I make you nervous?”
“Big parties do,” You partially lie, clearing your throat. “People everywhere, you know… gets overwhelming.”
Donghyuck hums, “Right.”
“I’m serious,” You defend yourself for whatever reason and Donghyuck finds amusement in your voice and actions, eyes sparkling as you seemingly come out of your awkward shell for a few seconds, talking to him in a tone as you would with close friends and he even spots the corner of your lips twitching, almost smiling at him. “Being in a room crowded with people isn’t exactly something I enjoy.”
“I believe you,” He tells you softly. He wants to keep this conversation going, enjoying this side of you that’s slowly becoming comfortable with him already. He likes it, the sparkle in your eyes, the tone of your voice, the subtle peaceful expression on your face. He wants more. “Are you enjoying yourself here?”
That makes you pause. Are you enjoying yourself? You came with Areum and Minjun, two people who you enjoy being in the presence of. You stumbled across Xiaojun and Mark, two other people who bring enjoyment into your life and you were actually ecstatic when seeing Xiaojun for the first time earlier. The beer that was available in the cooler happened to be one of your favourite alcoholic beverages (you’ve had three of those already.) and the music that blasts from the speakers happens to be of a genre you listen to on the regular.
You finally have your answer, “It’s not so bad.”
“Could it be better?” Donghyuck presses and your lips press together in deep thought before shrugging your shoulders, somewhat agreeing. Donghyuck leans in towards you, “Could I make it better?”
Your brows pull together in confusion, “You can do that? How could you do that?”
Donghyuck can’t help but smile at that and you grow even more confused when he begins to laugh softly, shaking his head. You wonder if you said the wrong thing or if there was a certain meaning behind his question that you failed to pick up on.
A frown forms on your face due to you feeling a little stupid, thinking that he’s laughing at you or your dumb response and Donghyuck immediately notices you rebuilding the walls, how that look on your face that he adores slowly starts to slip and he straightens up against the wall, toning down his teasing.
“I like your dress, by the way.” His compliment shocks you, not expecting it to come from him and you instantly look down at your dress.
At first, you wonder what’s wrong with it. If there was a stain you didn’t notice or if there was a tear in the fabric, but then you come to terms with that fact there’s nothing wrong with the dress and, actually, it’s probably one of the best that you own. It doesn’t cling to your body uncomfortably nor does it seem loose, it fits you well.
You raise your head to thank him, but your words are stuck in the back of your throat when you notice the way he’s looking at you. He’s drinking you in, taking in your appearance, gaze roaming over the length of the dress with a deep inhale before his eyes snap back up to yours, the dark look returning.
“It’s pretty,” Donghyuck exhales, leaning his head back against the wall while keeping eye contact with you. “You’re really pretty.”
You’re flustered now. The attention from him becomes a bit too much and you find yourself feeling hot under his intense stare and there’s an unfamiliar feeling swirling in the pit of your tummy, something you’ve never felt before and it shocks you, but you try to not bring too much attention to it.
You debate on whether to thank him or to compliment him back on his own outfit: a loose graphic white shirt of a band you recognised paired with denim ripped jeans with chains hanging off the sides and a pair of doc martens on his feet. His signature leather jacket, one you’ve seen multiple times before in class, drapes across his shoulders.
He does look good (really good, but you won’t admit that part.)
As you open your mouth, surprisingly finding the confidence to compliment him on his own outfit choice, it gets taken away from you when Areum announces her return as she comes towards you with drinks in her hand, followed by Minjun, Xiaojun and Mark who decided to tag along.
You smile when Areum passes you a fresh drink, completely forgetting about the other that had become lukewarm in your hand and you’re unsure on what to do with it until it’s plucked from your grasp and you turn to look at Donghyuck who had taken it from you, clinking the can against your own in a small ‘cheers’ before he pushes himself off of the wall, his shoulder brushing yours as he heads back to where he originally came from.
You’re a little confused on why he left, watching as he drops down on the sofa beside Yangyang who looks like he’s exhausted, slouching against the sofa cushions and nodding to whatever Shotaro—you remembered him from when Areum pointed him out—was talking about and Donghyuck takes the joint from between his fingers, leaning against Yangyang as he takes a drag all while watching you.
It’s almost deja vu, the whole scene reminding you of earlier when he was looking at you from afar before he came on over to introduce himself. You find him odd, extremely odd, but you can’t deny the fact how intriguing he is.
“So,” Areum’s voice grabs your attention. “How was it?”
“Fine,” You quip, turning to face the four. “He seemed fine. Nothing about that conversation screamed ‘I’m obsessed with you’ so, I think you were wrong with that one.”
Mark almost drops his beer, the alcohol sloshing and spilling over his hands as it almost slips from his fingers as he stares at you in shock, mouth agape, “Dude… you’re the next target?”
You deadpan, “Can you stop calling me a target? It feels like I’m about to get assassinated.”
Xiaojun frowns, giving you a look of sympathy as he steps in closer to pat your back comfortingly, “You poor thing… my condolences. Stay strong, soldier.”
"Be quiet."
An hour or two later you find yourself standing outside to get some fresh air alone, staring down at the liquid in your cup. You’re not sure how many you’ve had but you hate how you’re unable to feel the buzz that’s affecting those who are around you, glancing up at the few strays of people that are stumbling across the well-kept grass or are giggling to themselves as they stare up at the star filled sky.
You wonder at first if the drink you have isn’t actually alcoholic, but from the reactions of your friends (who had been drinking the same brand with you the majority of the night.) they were already tipsy, or in Xiaojun’s case, drunk.
Maybe you just weren’t feeling it.
First college party jitters, Areum had called it when you had confided in her about the problem and you were undoubtedly embarrassed to hear her call it that, but she had reassured you that it was fine and that it was normal, and even she had experienced something similar when she came to her first college party at the beginning of the year.
Still, it made you feel embarrassed.
With a heavy sigh, you finish the rest of your drink, pulling a face at the burn that trickles down the back of your throat as you turn on your heel to head back inside where your friends are but you crash into something hard, causing you to stumble backwards in shock and a pair of hands come out to grab your elbows, steadying you on your feet.
“Careful, princess.” The person speaks. Any other time, the pet name would’ve made you flustered, especially with that deep tone, but you barely acknowledge it as you try to shake yourself out of your startled state and you wince when you put too much pressure on your ankle, figuring you must’ve twisted it awkwardly when you bumped into the stranger.
You curse under your breath as you feel the throb but you try not to pay too much attention to it as you finally meet eyes with Donghyuck who is already staring back at you, the grip he has on your elbows tightening slightly as you make eye contact with him.
“I’m sorry.” You apologise instantly, “I didn’t see you.”
“It’s okay,” Donghyuck dismisses it with a shake of his head and his attention drops down to your ankle, his brows pulling together. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Oh, yeah, just a bit. But it’s fine, honest—”
The words get caught at the back of your throat as Donghyuck kneels down onto the grass to inspect the damage, cold fingers delicately touching your leg and trailing down to your ankle, the sudden action causing goosebumps to rise to your skin and you can just make out the corner of his lips twitching.
He traces the area with the pads of his fingertips slowly, suddenly aware of how close he’s leaning in as you feel his breath fan over your calf. His hand takes a hold of your ankle gently and carefully not to hurt you, the delicate strokes of his thumb sending a shiver up your spine and you wonder if he notices how nervous you’ve become.
Donghyuck presses his fingers down on a certain spot on your ankle and you hiss in surprise at the throb that comes with it, your hand instinctively slapping down on his shoulder in retaliation for the pain he caused but your mouth drops open in surprise while he glances up at you with a grin, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“It’s not broken or anything,” He informs you before you could start to apologise again for your sudden actions, raising back up onto his feet. “You just twisted it awkwardly when you bumped into me.”
“Do you major in nursing alongside music or something?”
Donghyuck smiles at that, a laugh leaving his lips. “No. I’m just good at knowing my way around a body,” You immediately pick up the suggestive tone in his voice and your brows raise in surprise, feeling flustered and shy under his gaze that doesn’t waver from you. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve crashed into me—”
“Accidently.”
“Right,” He hums. “What’s that saying? Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence—”
“And three times is a pattern,” You finish. “It’s not a coincidence or pattern. Both are mistakes. I don’t go walking around searching for you in hopes to bump into you.”
“Aw, that’s a shame.”
“That I’m not purposely bumping into you?”
“That you’re not searching around for me.”
Your face grows hot at his forwardness and your eyes flick downwards to a patch of grass you suddenly find interest in, the shyness that creeps upon you making it hard for you to look at him.
Donghyuck remains staring at you and the corner of his lips curl into a smirk, amused at how easily you seem to be flustered when it comes to him already. He basks in it, he loves knowing how much he affects you and it excites him even more when he dips his head to meet your eyes but you avert your attention elsewhere.
He dips his hand into his jean pocket to pull out a singular pack of cigarettes, “Do you want one?”
“I don’t smoke.”
Donghyuck pauses, his fingers ghosting over the opening of the pack. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
You frown and that's when you look up to meet his eyes, confused. “Why wouldn’t I mind?”
“Some people don’t like being around smokers,” Donghyuck shrugs. “The smell and all.”
“I’m at a party where the air reeks of cigarettes, weed and alcohol,” You point out, a smile slowly starting to form on your lips. “I wouldn’t be here if I minded the smell. And besides, I can smell the weed on your clothes from earlier too and I haven’t said a word about it. I’m fine.”
He blinks once, twice, “Do I smell bad?”
“No,” You rush out to reassure him, shaking your head. “No, not at all. You smell fine.”
“Just fine?”
“You smell good.” You correct yourself.
The smirk returns as he tilts his head to the side, “Yeah?”
You come to a conclusion that he definitely enjoys making you embarrassed and flustered, and you let out a breathy laugh, tongue prodding at your cheek in slight annoyance at how easy it is for him to make you feel this way.
If it was anyone else, you fight back. You always fight back. Being roommates with Areum and close friends with Minjun, Xiaojun, Mark and Jihoon had made you defensive, being a victim to their countless teasing and jokes you had learned over time to return it.
But unfortunately there is something about Donghyuck that makes your words get caught in the back of your throat and your mind go completely blank, unable to think properly or even say something back.
“Whose is this?” Donghyuck’s already changing the subject, almost giving you whiplash at how easily he can switch to different topics without hesitating or missing a beat. His fingers reach out to touch Minjun’s jacket that’s draped over your shoulders, something that he had given you to keep you warm while you stepped outside. Donghyuck hums, brows pulling together. “You weren’t wearing this earlier.”
“Oh.” Your own fingers graze over the leather jacket. “It’s Minjun’s.”
Donghyuck drily asks, “Who?”
“He’s a friend.”
Donghyuck clicks his tongue against his teeth with a hum, “Yeah, well, your friend's jacket is covering this pretty dress of yours.”
The tone in his voice made your brows raise in surprise, the slight annoyance and disapproval of Minjun’s jacket covering—what he claims—a pretty dress was something you weren’t expecting, although it made your chest blossom with warmth and your face grew hot at the subtle compliment.
He’s not speaking now, which makes you feel a bit awkward having to stand in silence with him, minus the music that’s blasting from inside the house and a few lingering people out in the garden that are having drunken conversations around you. His lips are pressing together tightly, jaw locking and unlocking as his brows furrow as if he’s thinking deeply about something, fidgeting in his spot with his fingers twitching around his own jacket after he retracted them from Minjun’s.
You think maybe it’s time for you to leave, to say your goodbyes and find your friends so you can be free of the awkward tension you’re feeling. You want to stay with him though, not exactly eager to disappear away from him so soon just like how he practically walked away from you earlier when the others had come to join the conversation.
“Do you want another drink?” You catch yourself asking him before you could ever register the question in your head and your heart thumps wildly in your chest as Donghyuck slowly turns to look at you, “I mean, I noticed your hands are empty—and I want another drink too, so…”
Donghyuck stares at you for a moment longer before a smile breaks out onto his lips and he nods, agreeing to get another drink from the kitchen with you. But what you didn’t expect was Donghyuck to hold out his hand, wiggling his fingers enticingly in the air to coax you into taking his hand in your own.
You’re hesitant to take it, not wanting him to feel how clammy your palms already are and you most definitely didn’t want to embarrass yourself for being so nervous during this entire interaction.
“I don’t bite, you know,” He says with a whisper and it sends shivers tingling down your spine at how close he leans in to tell you that. He tilts his head to the side as he smirks, “Unless—”
“DONGHYUCK!”
The unfamiliar voice that shouts out his name startles you and your head whips around so fast you swear you hear a crack, immediately noticing a pretty, long haired girl stumble out of the backdoor of the house, almost tripping over her own heels before she collects herself, bringing her hand up to her forehead and squinting as she scans the garden for the boy in question.
You slowly face Donghyuck again and he’s still looking at you, not even paying attention to the calls of his name that echo throughout the garden, not even flinching at the loudness. He’s still holding his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it so you could both go inside but you feel as if maybe it’s the wrong thing to do right now, looking back and forth between him and the girl.
You state, “Someone is calling for you.”
“I know, she’s drunk, ignore her,” Donghyuck dismisses it with a shake of his head and he reaches out further towards you, fingertips brushing over the top of your hand. “Let’s go get that drink, princess. Yeah?”
You don’t even get the chance to decide to accept or decline as the girl approaches you both and immediately throws herself at Donghyuck and punches his arm repeatedly, rambling about something that he had kept hidden from ‘the rest of them’ and she even goes as far as shoving her hand into the front pocket of his jeans.
You blink away awkwardly, unsure of what to do or even to say but you look back at the pair when she pulls out a small bag of weed with a wail of victory.
“I knew you fucking had it,” She hisses, landing another punch on his arm and he rolls his eyes, trying to snatch it out of her grasp but she pulls it away quickly out of his reach, almost bumping into you in the process and her eyes widen in surprise. “Shit, I’m sorry!”
You shake your head, “It’s fi—”
“Miwoo.” Donghyuck speaks her name through gritted teeth and it instantly rings a bell, remembering that she was one of the girls that Areum had told you about earlier, one of Donghyuck’s best friends exes. “Why don’t you take the weed and go share it with Yangyang? Yeah?”
“You’re really pretty,” Miwoo completely ignores Donghyuck to compliment you, eyes checking you out from head to toe with a smile that makes you feel a little flustered but it disappears, replacing with a grimace as she jabs her thumb back at Donghyuck, “Why are you talking to him?”
Donghyuck’s hand comes up to rub the bridge of his nose, seemingly getting frustrated with his friends words and you can’t help but smile at that, finding the situation a little comical and you watch as Donghyuck manages to get her attention, the pair getting warped into a miniature argument that has you trying to bite back your amusement, pressing your lips together tightly to try and not smile even wider.
Although, your watching moment is cut short when you hear Areum call out your name and you turn to look over your shoulder to see her beckoning your forwards and you nod, wanting to politely bid your goodbyes to Donghyuck and Miwoo but you decide against it when you them at each other's throats with petty insults, quickly making your escape to Areum who loops your arms with hers, tugging you back into the house where the others are patiently waiting for you.
Donghyuck notices your disappearance almost immediately and his shoulders drop with a sigh, glaring at Miwoo who isn’t the least affected by his darkened gaze as she dips her fingers inside the baggy to pull out a pre-rolled joint.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I know,” Miwoo grins before she meets Donghyuck’s eye, “She’s really pretty.”
“Yeah, I know,” Donghyuck mumbles under his breath, tongue prodding at his cheek in annoyance as he rips the bag and the joint out of Miwoo’s hands. “Give me that. You don’t deserve it, asshole.”
The amusement on your face is obvious when Xiaojun and Mark step into the Dreamies Café, both dressed in oversized hoodies and wearing sunglasses to block out the brightness of the sun and the lights from burning their eyes, arms dangling at their sides as they drag their feet across the flooring towards the table where you and Jihoon are sat waiting for them.
You arrived ten minutes before the two of them did and you were surprised to already see Jihoon sitting at the table with everyone's preferred drinks, and even when you tried to hand over the money for your own, he just looked at you as if you deeply offended him and swatted your hand away before pulling out a chair and telling you to sit.
Xiaojun doesn’t seep a word as he slumps down in the seat opposite you, but he does gesture a quick thank you to Jihoon for the drink and he lifts the straw to his lips to take a long sip, chest rumbling with a satisfied hum as he relaxes into his seat, the ice clinking in his iced matcha as he continuous to drink.
“Hey,” Mark greets you both as he sits on the seat at the end of the table, fingers curling around the plastic cup of his watermelon ade as he glances over at Jihoon. “Thanks, man. I’ll venmo you the money.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jihoon dismisses with a wave of his hand. “It’s on me anyways. You paid for my drink last time we were here,” His gaze suddenly flicks over to Xiaojun, the corner of his lips twitching. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit,” Xiaojun grumbles, craning his head back. “But fuck those cocktails tasted good.”
“You know, you’re probably going to have to give Jeno the money back for raiding his stash.”
“Actually, it belonged to Yangyang,” Xiaojun corrects as he digs his hand through the front of his jean pockets, pulling out his phone and swiping up to get to his notification bar and he angles the screen towards the three of you with a grimace. “He dmed me on Instagram this morning telling me to pay him back but I’m not even going to open it.”
“Dude,” Mark gives him a pointed look. “You can’t do that.”
“But I can,” Xiaojun locks his phone and places it down on the table with a grin. “And I will.”
Jihoon murmurs, “But you drank his stuff without his permission.”
“He uses my laptop in classes without my permission!” Xiaojun argues back immediately, “It’s payback.”
“You shouldn’t have given him your password.”
“I didn’t. I gave it to Donghyuck because he wanted—” Xiaojun suddenly pauses, blinking a few times as he registers his own words before smacking his lips together with a nod, exhaling deeply through his nose. “Yeah. That’s my fault. Should’ve guessed Donghyuck wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about that.”
The mention of Donghyuck has you thinking back on last night and a subtle smile makes its way onto your lips, twisting the straw of your coffee in between your teeth as you go over the interaction in your head.
The smirk he always has, the tone of his voice as he speaks to you, the way he always keeps eye contact and doesn’t even falter once when something else is going on around him. His somewhat flirtatious comments and his lingering touches is what surprises you the most, but you tell yourself that maybe that’s just his personality.
He’s like that with everyone, he must be.
“What’s got you smiling over there?” A teasing voice breaks you out of your thoughts, startling you as your head shoots up and you see Xiaojun grinning at you across the table, chin resting on the palm of his hand as he waits for you to explain the reason for your smiling but you remain tight lipped, causing his grin to drop. “Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t be nosy.” You fire back jokingly.
A soft call of your name makes you turn your head to Jihoon, “Did you enjoy the party yesterday?”
“It was fine,” You nod your head. “Didn’t get as drunk as everyone else did, but it was fine. College parties can be kind of overwhelming though,” You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly as you admit, “I don’t know why but I didn’t expect that many people to be there…”
“Yeah, Jeno is pretty well-known,” Mark hums as he takes a sip through his straw, leaning back in his seat comfortably. “Don’t get me wrong, like, that entire group are pretty much well-known but it’s mainly Jeno that gets the most attention and rallies everyone up for parties.”
“Areum kind of explained everything to me about them last night,” You say. “They’re an interesting group, I think. They also come across as a little intimidating apart from Shotaro… he was just smiling the entire night.”
“Shotaro’s sweet,” Mark agrees, nodding his head. “Also, once you get to really know them, they aren’t that intimidating—”
“I don’t know about that. Renjun still makes my skin crawl.” Xiaojun interrupts with a shiver.
“Renjun’s just not a people person,” Mark explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “He’s actually really nice if you have a one on one conversation with him,” Mark then turns his attention back on you, “But seriously, none of them are that intimidating once you get to really know them or be around them. Take Yangyang and Donghyuck for example, we don’t find either of them ‘intimidating’ since we share a class with them.”
“They’re just annoying,” Xiaojun chimes in again with a grimace on his face. “Especially Yangyang.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that, “What’s your problem with Yangyang?”
“Yangyang likes to annoy people a lot,” Jihoon is the one to explain to you as Xiaojun rubs at his temples at the mere thought of Yangyang. “He enjoys getting on people's nerves and, fortunately for him, Xiaojun reacts to everything he does so that just makes him do it even more… although, he hasn’t really been doing anything lately. He’s just been kinda numbed out.”
You hum, “Areum also mentioned that he indulges himself into some hard shit, alongside the weed and the alcohol.”
“That’s heartbreak for you, I guess.” Mark mumbles under his breath with a frown, tone sullen and your brows pull together in confusion, wanting to question it a little bit more but you struggle to find the opportunity when another topic is brought up.
“And obviously you know so much about Donghyuck already.”
“No I don’t,” You snip, sending a hard look Xiaojun’s way as he bats his pretty eyelashes at you. You repeat, “No I don’t”
“You were outside in the garden with him for quite some time last night~”
“I’m surprised you even remembered that considering when I walked back into the house, you were on your eighth shot dancing with one of the kitchen chairs.”
“Hey,” Xiaojun points his finger at you, “I may have been drunk but this brain of mine remembers everything.” He then smiles at you, “What did you guys talk about? Did he mention that you’re now his new obsession?”
Jihoon almost spits out his drink, “You’re his new obsession?”
“Why do you all call it that?” You huff with a frown, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed over your chest. “It sounds mean—and wrong.”
“It’s kinda the truth,” Mark gives you a sorry expression. “Donghyuck does get obsessed with people and I’m almost positive he even knows it himself… He falls for people hard and he becomes so infatuated with them until they say they want nothing to do with him, and he just… stops.”
“He was into Aisha before,” Xiaojun states but you already knew that from Areum’s previous explanation. “He liked her a lot and I’m pretty sure she was into it for a while considering she flirted back and there were even rumours that they hooked up, like, once or twice… but I guess she got bored with that so she made up a lie and told Donghyuck that she was dating Mark—”
“Me. Of all people.” Mark points to himself in disbelief and shakes his head, the expression on his face being enough to get a laugh out of you.
“I mean, I would believe it,” Jihoon shrugs his shoulders, causing Mark to look at him incredulously. “Come on, you once walked out of a bathroom with her at a Halloween party with your spider-man costume unzipped and your mask gone—”
“I had to fucking piss really bad and I couldn’t get out of the costume because I was drunk so she helped me,” Mark immediately defends himself, a pout forming on his lips. “Besides, it was hot, I wasn’t going to wear the mask all night.” He then fires back up, “I wouldn’t fuck someone in dingy club’s disgusting bathroom, dude!”
Xiaojun blinks, “You lost your virginity in a cheap motel room with your ex-girlfriend.”
Mark bites back, “You lost yours in your grandma's basement, shut up.”
“Okay, wow, uncalled for.”
“Don’t argue…” Jihoon sighs, rubbing his forehead at their raised voices and your brows raise as the pair both turn to look at Jihoon with blank expressions before they speak in sync.
“You lost yours in the college janitor closet and got caught.”“Wait, really?” You gape at Jihoon in shock, not expecting someone like a quiet and socially awkward Jihoon to do something so scandalous on campus grounds. But your shock dies down and morphs into shyness when you realise the trio are now looking at you, expecting you to chime in with your own embarrassing virginity story but the problem was, you had none. Your virginity is still intact.
“Do you not have one?” Mark questions after a few minutes of awkward silence and you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. He questions genuinely again, not a hint of teasing in his tone as he whispers quietly. “Are you a virgin?”
You nod.
“Aww…” Xiaojun coos softly, causing your head to snap towards him as he smiles sweetly at you, “That’s cute.”
Your face immediately burns with embarrassment as you sink further down into your seat, a deep frown settling on your lips, “Don’t ever call my virginity cute again.”
“Wow… I’m immensely impressed,” Professor Kim mumbles under his breath as he slips the headphones off of his head after listening to a little recording you had made on your computer, his lips curled into satisfied grin as he places the headphones down on the table and you beam happily, glancing between him and your computer screen. “I’m also really impressed that you finished this today. I was expecting you to show me the finished product by at least next week… I’m grateful that you take this class seriously.”
“I enjoy music,” You tell him honestly as you tap your fingers nervously on your desk, “Is there anything I need to change or to work on?”
“There’s nothing you need to work on, it sounds great,” He compliments yet you prepare yourself for the rest, “But for changes? I would like to encourage you to partner up with some of the other students in the class, work together on a piece and let your music styles blend together to see how well it compliments each other, or even try and create something new.”
“So, like a group project?”
“Exactly,” Professor Kim nods. “Like I said, you’re impressive. You’re an amazing guitarist and pianist, your music is incredible when you’re solo. But I would like to hear it within a group too. Yangyang is an incredible bass player that you can maybe add. Xiaojun and Aisha are amazing vocalists, Donghyuck too and he’s also great at the guitar. Jihoon is talented with the keyboard and Mark can do just about everything. Seriously, think about it. I would love to hear how you sound within a group.”
With a kind smile and a gentle pat to your shoulder, Professor Kim excuses himself to go talk to another student, leaving you alone to think about his words.
It’s not that you didn’t want to work in a group. You’re almost positive that working with your friends will be a fun type of chaotic mess that will have your stomach cramping and tears streaming down your cheeks from laughing so much.
It’s just that you didn’t know how to work in a group. You’ve always been independent in some sort of sense, especially with your own creations. You preferred sitting alone with your headphones snug on your head, testing out different sounds and techniques all by yourself, choosing what sounds best and what suits your needs.
But working in a group? Settling on one thing that will make each of you happy? That is foreign territory… that is stressful.
“So, what did he say to you?” Jihoon asks with a gentle nudge at your shoulder to get your attention and you pull your eyes away from your laptop screen to give him a tight lipped smile.
“He liked it. He just wants me to try out group work,” You almost start pleading, “Got any room in your group project for me to fit in?”
“Sure,” Jihoon nods with a kind smile, “Although I feel like I should probably warn you by saying that sometimes it’s not just me, Mark and Xiaojun working together… Donghyuck and Yangyang sometimes come back and forth, especially for Mark.”
Your brows raise in surprise, “They’re in your group too?”
“Not exactly. It’s more like them coming to us when we’re working to borrow Mark for their project,” Jihoon explains to you as he nods over at Mark who’s currently leaning on a desk with Donghyuck and Yangyang at his sides, peering over his shoulder to look at his laptop screen. “Mark pretty much floats in and out of other people's groups. It’s what you get for being an allrounder I guess.”
“Professor Kim mentioned something like that.” You mumble as you watch the trio, the corner of your lips twitching upwards in a slight smile as Mark scoffs at something Donghyuck says, swatting him away with his hand as Donghyuck grins mischievously and murmurs something in his ear, causing Mark to push at his head this time and Donghyuck stumbles back with a laugh.
Yangyang remains silent, idly drumming his fingers on the desk and rubbing tiredly at his sullen eyes beneath his hood. He seems to stop when turning his body towards you, as if looking your way to which makes your back straighten up, especially when Donghyuck’s head whips around at a mumble from Yangyang, looking directly at you.
From across the room, Donghyuck smiles that crooked grin of his and his eyebrow quirks up when he sees that you’re already staring back at him. You can feel the warmth rising to your cheeks at being caught, and though you try to suppress the shy feeling that creeps in, you know he can already tell exactly how you’re feeling as his eyes twinkle with amusement, tilting his head to the side as if to tease you even more.
Donghyuck’s eyes never leave you as you turn away, trying to busy yourself with something else as your heart thumps wildly in your ears, feeling too overwhelmed to glance back at Donghyuck despite seeing him in your peripheral vision.
“You really have caught his attention,” Jihoon mutters beside you with a chuckle and you whip around to face him, eyes wide. “I thought that maybe Xiaojun and Mark were teasing you… but I guess Donghyuck really has started to take a liking to you. You are his new obsession.”
#nct dream fic#nct dream au#nct series#haechan au#haechan fic#haechan series#nct fluff#nct angst#nct smut#fic: you'll never find anyone like me#neo tech college series
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Precious🩵
Summary: Reader gets separated from Daryl at the start and finds a farm with a wonderful family, she finds out she’s pregnant and one thing leads to another and a new group settles onto the farm
•Masterlist•
I waited for Daryl at our little house in the small town we grew up in, I had been gone to the city for the day when everything happened, I was able to find a car and drive back home praying that Daryl would be there waiting for me but I knew it would be a long shot, I waited for a few days until the food ran out and decided if I was ever going to find him again then I’ll have to go find him myself
So I pack up my bag with essentials, clothes, water, snacks that were left over and weapons for Daryl’s hunting collection, I drove for what felt like forever no signs of human life only blood and rotting corpses who some how took over the earth
I came to the interstate seeing the cars upon cars piled up blocking my way so I turned around hoping to find a back road to get around when I spotted a sign “Greene’s Farm” if the farm was still standing maybe it could have some food or more water, as I pulled up the drive way to a large white farm house people filtered out, it felt surreal to see people, live people
I got out of the car as the came down the stairs, it was an older man a girl around my age and a younger blonde, then what seemed to be an older couple and a younger boy
“How’d you find this place?” The man with the white hair asked
“I’ve been on the road looking for my husband, I got turned around in the road and saw your farm sign, I just need some rest” I say as I run my hand down my belly
When I went to the city when everything happened I found out I was pregnant and I was over the moon about finally starting a family with Daryl but now I’m scared, scared about delivery, this baby never meeting their wonderful father
The man noticed my movement and his harsher demeanor changed to one of pity
“Come dear we’ll get something set up for you”
They let me settle in the spare room after feeding me some eggs and fresh fruit, the house was cozy and they are lovely people but I can’t help that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling I always got when Daryl would be gone too long, he always soothed me even if he didn’t talk much he showed me comfort with actions of love and care
Whenever he scrounged up enough money he’d buy me little gifts, he got me a silver necklace with a bow on it which I never take off, I never got a wedding ring because I refused and said we should keep the money for the future and that I don’t need some diamond to show my love for him
“Knock knock” I look up to the doorway and see Maggie standing there with a wide smile
“Daddy wanted me to check on you, well both of you”
“Oh yes I think we’re okay, I only found out about two weeks ago”
“That’s when you first had symptoms?” She asked as she sat next to me on the bed
“Yeah, the nausea and a little bump”
“I’d say you’re about two months pregnant then, signs only show up later, does the father know?” I shock my head feeling my heart clench in pain
“I never got the chance, I don’t even know where he is but somehow in my heart I believe we will find our ways back to each other” she ran a comforting hand up my back and smiled
“You’ll find him sweetheart you never know what might happen!” She said before she left the room giving me space to finally rest
It’s been 2 months now on the farm and it was peaceful for some reason this farm has gone untouched from the world that’s filled with death, I haven’t stopped looking for Daryl, every other day I’d search farther and farther out but there was no sign, as I was walking back to the farm I saw two men and Otis running through the field, I got back to the house and Maggie told me of everything that was happening, Otis accidentally shot the boy who Hershel was working on now
I sat outside on the steps as the young boys father came out obviously in shock covered in blood, he sat next to me completely disheveled, I took a rag I had in my pocket and wiped some blood he smeared on his face
“Hershel is a good surgeon and a great man, your son is in good hands” my words seemed to calm him down and what he needed right now was a distraction it seems
“I remember when my wife found out she was pregnant with Carl, we were young but I was excited this little life was gonna be born, so how far along are you?”
“About 4 months now, I’m not sure if it’s a boy or girl, I got separated from the father when I found out but I’ve kept looking, I know he’s out there, he’s a stubborn man but god is he strong and pretty smart too”
“Yeah I know the type, got a man like that back in our group, we lost a little girl and he’s been looking for her day and night”
“Maggie should be back soon she must have found your group by now, it’ll be okay” almost as if she heard me I see her horse ride up the field with cars following, then I hear the rumble of a motorcycle and it brought back so many memories I had with Daryl, when he’d work on his bike I’d sit with him, when we’d go for a drive at night together, moments I kept dear to my heart, zoned out in nostalgic thought I didn’t notice the group coming to the steps
“Y/n?” The grumble to the voice that I fell in love with, I look up to see him standing there just as the day I last saw him still as handsome, I couldn’t stand up fast enough before I was pulled off the stairs and into his arms
“I can’t believe it’s you, I looked everywhere, I missed you so much Daryl” I cried into his shoulder as his group was most likely watching this moment unwind
“It’s me sunshine, I found ya” he pulled back and we just looked into each others eyes for some time before he looked me over stopping abruptly on my belly
He opened his mouth but he seemed to be at a lose for words
“It’s yours if that’s what you’re wondering?”
“My baby?” He asked placing his hands on either side of my bump
“Yeah our lil baby Dixon”
After everything settled down and people set up tents I decided to stay with Daryl since they were using my room for Carl, I was sitting across from him on my sleeping bag and he couldn’t take his eyes off my bump
“Do you want to feel?” He thought for a moment before he nodded, I lifted my ivory dress just above my belly feeling his warm hands caress my bare skin
“How did this happen?”
“Well remember that night you came back from the bar with Merle and I was wearing my pink sundress you love” realization dawned as a blush crossed his face
“Yeah that’s how it happened” I laugh missing how easily it is to embarrass him
“Where have you been?” I asked as we laid next to each other
“Found a camp outside of Atlanta with Merle, idiot went and got himself stuck on a roof don’t know where he is now, then we went to the CDC and that was a bust then that leads to now finally some sanity with ya”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get bite, the farms been secure so I haven’t had any troubles”
“And ya never have to with me ‘round”
It’s been 6 months and Daryl and I had a beautiful 1 month old baby girl, it was painful giving birth but with Daryl by my side it made it a bit easier, hopeful
She was a wonderful little thing, barely fussy, brown hair light blue eyes just like Daryl, and he was over the moon about her he praised me over and over for giving him such a gift he treasured
We were able to move into the house to make it more comfortable for the three of us, we named her Lily because Carl thought it suited her perfectly so we just went with it
I walked into the room seeing Daryl sat on the bed with her in his arms her little hands reaching to pull on his now grown out hair, I sat beside them curling up to Daryl��s side
“She loves you so much D”
“Not as much as I love her”
“You know I think she’s your favourite”
“Nah she loves us both sunshine, I love ya”
“I love you too Daryl, forever”
#twd fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#twd x reader#daryl dixon#twd fluff#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion smut#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl dixon twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixion x reader#daryl drabbles#twd#the walking dead series
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Mystic Shop: The Good Forest (Soul Extraction Pill)
Agus lives in a small town near a forest. Although the forest is so beautiful that it attracts many tourists, Agus has lived in this town for more than 24 years and he is very bored with life in this small town.
He often went for walks in the forest, he met many people and envied them that they had a more enjoyable life than they had to live here.
One day, he was walking in the forest and he came across a mysterious shop. He was certain that this shop had never existed in this forest before. When he entered, a handsome young man greeted him with a smile.
He said hello to the customer, are you interested in changing anything?
Agus was a little surprised by the question, so he asked tentatively.
How did you know I wanted to change?
The clerk smiled before speaking confidently: Because our shop will only appear in front of those who want to change their lives. Our Mystic Shop can appear anywhere when someone wants to change, and of course in front of those who can pay us a reasonable price.
Agus was puzzled: But I don't have much money. You must have come the wrong way. Agus said scornfully.
The officer smiled again: Of course, we know that you don't have enough money to use our service, but because we run a special promotion for those who don't have much money and are destined to receive a change.
Agus looks puzzled. What is it?
Staff: It's a special contract. Most of our customers tend to abandon their original bodies, so we have come up with a special promotion for you to sacrifice your own body to get something better.
Better yet, this is the result of this promotion. The salesperson takes out a potion. A potion that will cause the soul of the eater to leave their body and take over someone else's body. You can take it, but you must promise us that if you get a new body, you will have to share 5% of the profit from the new body. You and your old body will be the rights holders of the Mystic Shop.
Agus agreed with the idea, he signed a contract to receive the soul-extraction drug, the clerk added, “That’s good, when you take the drug and get a new body, your old body will disappear and come to this store, once you become our customer, you will be able to know where our store is at all times, thank you for using our service.” As soon as he finished speaking, the store slowly darkened, when he came to, Agus was standing in the dark, at first he thought he must be daydreaming, but when he looked in his shirt pocket, he found the drug he had signed a contract to receive, he was certain that this was definitely not a dream.
Days later, he tried to find a body good enough to be his new body. Finally, he came across a cyclist who came into the forest near his town.
As he sat resting on the bridge, Agus took the pill. His soul floated out of his body and slowly floated towards it.
Agus' soul floated towards the young man, the soul entered the young man's body through the mouth of the young man's body, the soul of Agus penetrated the young man's throat, the soul's penis hardened inside the young man's body, the body twitched, the lucky young man's penis hardened in the tight cloth, now Agus' soul was filling every part of the young man's hand completely, the young man's body slowly moaned comfortably, fuck this is so good, Agus received the new body of this young cyclist.
Agus went to his old body and found it gone. “My old body, now I will live a new life as this young cyclist.”
He used his hand to stroke the new body's erect penis. "I can't wait." This forest is full of good things. Then he pulled out his hard cock and used it to reach his climax.
Yes, I like this feeling as the semen shoots out of his cock. He sees in the pocket of the biker boy that there is a lot of money. “That will be a good investment in my new life. Look, this money will help me to increase my comfort in my new life a lot. For the special medicine that can read memories that I secretly saw in the catalog in that shop.” He said while licking the semen that flowed all over his stomach.
จบไปแล้วสำหรับภาค 2 ของ Mystic Shop ซีรีส์นี้มานานพบกับร้านที่นี่
https://www.tumblr.com/ppssession/767568665915850752/whose-shop?source
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Live your life
band!aespa x groupie!reader
Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and still don’t have a lot to offer. Besides, there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them without even questioning.
Warnings: lots of plot w a little bit of smut in the end, as alwayss.
Word count: 6.5k
Notes: I tried following the MV in chronological order (except for that little deck scene bc I forgot abt it and when I went back to rewatch the MV I didn’t know where to squeeze it in so wtvr) and I’m kinda proud w the way it turned out ˆˆ I had lots of fun writing it so I hope you have fun reading it too!! Also I ❤️ you band!aespa let me be your fucktoy I can take the four of you. and not in a fight (probably in a fight too).
pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4
—
“Is this legal?” Ningning asks, hugging the straps of her backpack. She tilts her head up to grasp at the place that would make their stay for this week of competition, its grand walls of concrete leaving her in awe.
You’ve been wiser this time: the cache of the band’s last performance made it possible for them to buy a roof rack for your brother’s— now basically theirs— van, which provided much more space for equipment and luggage.
“Not really.” The four of you say, in unison. With a deep sigh, you grab your belongings and walk towards the huge stairs that precede the nearly-abandoned place.
“It used to be a bathhouse,” Karina tells the maknae, holding her by the shoulders as they walk forward in hopes of making her less uneasy. “But now they use it as a vintage, low-cost hostel, or whatever. It’s always cramped during these times of the year, so we’re safe Ningnie. Don’t worry.”
The bathhouse is huge, although its dirty façade announces it’s been long since the place served its initial purpose. Grass grows around their feet, nearly disappearing into the wild, and there’s a great amount of dirt clinging to their shoes in the parking lot. Three floors are presented in front of them in all of their grandness, in a structure so massive the place could be misguided as a shopping mall.
Ningning gulps, although she doesn’t look relaxed in the slightest. Going up so many flights of stairs leaves you breathless, resting your hands on your knees as soon as you reach the entry lounge. The inside of the building is much different from what you expected: it’s filled with warm lights, and most importantly, it’s packed. Young people storm from side to side, hanging out in the corners or walking in rushed paces. The mixed voices bring a lively vibe to the open area, and you smile as you watch comforting chaos unravel. Such noise is enough proof that you're here: the girls are actually going to perform in the most important music competition in the country.
A hand on your shoulder grabs your attention as you reach for your camera, itching to record every second of the journey. Ningning’s voice makes you look up amidst getting lost searching for it in the middle of your stuff.
“Y/n.” She calls for you, staring at the ground to avoid making eye contact. Her shoulders are pressed downwards, announcing a hesitant posture much unlike herself. You hum in response, acknowledging her while still looking through your backpack. “Is it ok if we room together, this time?”
You watch as Ning brushes her hands repetitively, aware something’s wrong. Ningning might be the youngest of the band, but she’s usually mature, serious, and confident; It’s concerning to have her acting like that.
“Sure, unnie.” You smile at her, looking around as you squeeze her arm in hopes of offering her some reassurance. After making sure the other girls were busy with the check-in, and that there weren’t any eavesdroppers, you ask, “Are they back again? Have you been getting any sleep?”
Ningning’s nod, followed by a tired sigh, is enough of an answer. You know being so dependent on her friends bothers her deeply, even though you’ve told her countless times none of you mind.
It’s well-known among the girls that Ning struggles with night terrors. Being an independent and strong-willed child made her extremely talented, but also very lonely. Ningning’s parents invested in her and sent her away from her hometown, Harbin before the age of 10. From then on, the maknae found herself all alone in Korea, pushing through an excruciating routine at a shitty entertainment company where people barely knew her name. She never spoke, at first because she didn’t know Korean at all— but also because people rarely talked to her; only urging her through events and evaluations like a doll.
Or better, more like a ghost. The loneliness clung to her bones, making its way through her soul until she wasn’t even sure who she was without it.
Ever since then, her nightmares have kept her awake at night, trapped in a tangled mess of absurd dreams that deprive her of getting any rest. The hallucinations are so real she’s frequently urged out of sleep with a trembling body and heavy nausea, rushing to the nearest bathroom in complete panic.
Thankfully, not sleeping by herself is something Ningning found to be of much help, even if just a bit. So the girls take turns holding the youngest member close in their arms until her body gives up to exhaustion, still trembling.
That was before Ning had gotten it under control. With the help of a professional and her friends’ endless support, she eventually learned how to suppress her troubled thoughts. As months went by, her nightmares somehow did not scare her as much as they did when she was a little girl.
Or so she thought. Asking for help meant things were not looking good at all, which set up an alarm in the back of your mind.
You had to talk to Karina about it and let the leader know. Out of the three girls, she was the most protective of Ningning: the duo acted like sisters most of the time and had a tight bond.
“We’ll get rid of those nasty monsters, Ningie.” You tell her, resting your arm on her shoulders as you walk side by side to the elevator. “Fuck them. I’ll personally beat their asses for disturbing our little princess’s sleep.”
Ningning’s laugh fills up the small corridor, and as she clings to your body, you’re reminded of how small she is. The maknae trusts you; it’s something you feel in the way she reaches out for your embrace, allowing herself to be vulnerable even if not for long.
“So,” Karina says, staring at the four of you with a serious face. “I know we all want to enjoy the festival too, and we absolutely should. But it’s late, and it’s a week-long competition, so I say we take it easy and rest today.”
The leader's words reverberate through the elevator, her assertive tone leaving it clear that it was a rather strong-willed suggestion as you all nod.
“We’ve worked hard for this opportunity.” Minjeong agrees, leaning onto the big mirror that gave the impression that the elevator was much bigger than its actual size. “Let’s not fuck it up. We can have fun later anyway.”
“Our first performance is tomorrow, but we have a bunch of interviews scheduled before that. We must be well prepared and rested.” Giselle adds, while they get onto their floor and start walking toward their assigned rooms.
Somehow, the girls always manage to get caught up with something just minutes before getting in the car for their road trip, which meant you arrived later than expected. At nearly 4 AM, everyone was tired, even though the adrenaline of being part of something as big as The Box was enough for them to be a bit jumpy, eyes darting around to capture everything dimmed possible.
The rooms were better, this time: there wasn’t any dust and the place looked fairly comforting, compared to the last place you stayed at. You drop your backpack and your small suitcase onto the ground without much care.
“Goodnight, cuties. See you in the morning.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes as you throw yourself on the bed, extra tired from being the designated driver for the entire journey. Giselle, Winter, and Karina wave faintly, too, making their way to their room at a quick pace.
Ningning smiles and watches as you stretch yourself, exhausted. She’s quick to drop her stuff and pull her single bed, although it doesn’t move further than an inch. “Y/n… help me join the beds, please?”
“Right, right. Of course.” With some effort, the two of you manage to move the two beds together into the center of the room, and you relax for a bit while Ningning occupies the bathroom. The soft sheets that welcome your face are much different from the leather seats of your car, and the change is well welcomed— so much you let out a deep sigh, relieved now that you’re finally able to relax.
After changing into your pajamas, you stare at the ceiling and you wait for Ningning to hop out of the shower and join you in bed before falling asleep yourself. However, the last thing your mind registers are the soft sounds of Yizhuo’s shower before sleep takes over your body and you lose a short-lived battle to unconsciousness.
—
Life is anything but peaceful when you give up a normal, ordinary life to live off of music. Not that it’s a bad thing: if anything, the thrill of not having a routine grants to the girls a type of freedom that only comes with art.
That’s all Karina can think about as the five of you hang out at a big, open field. There’s a fence where you and Ningning sit, and the cool breeze messes up her long, pitch-black hair. More than freedom, the leader’s chest also burns with a deep sense of accomplishment.
Within a blink, she’s at the bathhouse’s rooftop and this time her bandmates chat lively by the place’s enormous sign. It’s late, and a different kind of unsettlement takes place inside her rebel heart this time, one Karina feels deep in her bones.
Thankfully, she doesn’t have to dwell much: her senses prove to be right almost immediately when they’re struck by a sea of shooting stars. They fly by so fast Karina barely sees them, making their way through with such strength she’s pushed onto the ground. There’s only enough time for her to grab a single star, grasping the small light within her hands as strongly as she can.
But just as fast as it happened, the storm is gone. Karina looks up to talk to you and the girls about it, but you’re nowhere to be seen. She frowns, realizing she’s left all alone, under the darkness of a starless sky.
That’s when she wakes up: breathless, trembling badly as she grabs her neck in hopes of making more air run through her lungs. Despite the cool night, her body is drenched in sweat. Yet, the oldest member can’t help but sigh in relief once she looks up beside her and finds Minjeong peacefully asleep. The leader looks to the other bed, where Giselle’s faint snores can be heard, her mouth hanging slightly open as saliva drools onto the bassist’s pillow.
Karina’s safe. She’s with her girls, in the comfort of their room.
Yet the loneliness she felt still echoes through her body, hurting enough to draw small tears from her eyes before she acknowledges it. It had been such an empty moment… to look up and not see any of the people she loved and cherished deeply.
It’s something Karina decides she never wants to feel again.
“Mhm…” Minjeong stirs, her eyes half open as she stretches her arms out. Karina’s noises probably woke her up— the girl has never been a deep sleeper anyway. “What are you doing awake?”
A few seconds go by, and Karina stays silent. The answer comes when the blonde is almost falling asleep again, so low Minjeong thinks she’s imagining it. “You left me there, all alone. All of you.”
“We… who?” Minjeong’s voice is scrappy with confusion. She looks at the leader, scratching her head as she watches Karina get up. “Why would we do that? We’re literally right here, unnie.”
Minjeong’s attempts to understand her friend fail. If anything, she’s bluntly ignored by Karina, who shakes Giselle gently until she manages to get the Japanese girl up, although clearly in a zombie-like state, still barely conscious.
The weather was still a bit hot by the time they arrived, so the girls agreed to leave the old, arched windows open for the night. Now, the wind had messed up the leader’s wavy hair, and there were little eye-bags under her eyes from waking up so abruptly. As a result of such an intense dream, Karina’s lips trembled and her body lacked its usual strength, which was noticeable by her limp arms. She looks fragile, clearly disturbed by a train of thoughts echoing inside her mind.
And the way the leader stares at Minjeong so helplessly… It’s the reason why she doesn’t question when Karina offers her hand to help the blonde out of bed, in complete silence. One that remains until the leader unlocks your and Ningning’s room with her spare card, walking onto the bed with light steps— as if she was taken by the wind itself.
Your bedroom is not as big as theirs, and the improvised bed is still rather small, but Karina makes it fit. Her hand is keen on Giselle’s back, urging the girl back to bed as the leader lies her down once again. Like in a puzzle, Minjeong squeezes herself between your arched back and Ning’s body, careful to not wake up either of you.
“Feeling better?” She asks Karina, who watches the scene with a small smile. Minejong’s heart is filled with warmth at the girl’s pretty face, as she closes her eyes once again.
“Much better.” The vocalist murmurs, calm and collected. Being tangled with her girls at one of the country’s most successful music events is enough to dissipate her previous loneliness. There’s nothing else she needed but the four of you. “I’m no longer alone, now.”
She’s safe.
—
The Box is an event created for Companies from all over the country to show off their assets and make as much profit as possible—and they make sure to capitalize on every second of it, which is as much of a burden as it is an opportunity for its participants. The girls had interviews, outfit changes, and makeup booths provided by sponsors, guaranteed as long as they shot commercials and launched a few good words about their brands.
Held in a big, open area, the place brings goosebumps to Karina’s stomach, reminiscing too much of her dream as the same clouds wind on the sky, blocking the sun’s path. Just as she had done moments prior, you look up too, frowning. The lack of light makes the day seem gloomier than usual, and a single droplet of rain would result in an atrocious, muddy day.
And that would be a disaster, for sure.
“So,” After recording the stage they’d perform at in just a few hours, you turn around and nearly shove your camera on Giselle’s face. “Enlighten us, Gigi: why is the festival named The Box if the main stage is actually a big fucking losangle?”
Giselle’s tone is condescending as she adjusts her perfectly arranged bangs, giving you a dirty look before answering. “Y/n, my love.” She redirects the camera to capture both of your faces, smearing your cheek with her lip gloss. “You just have to accept some things: like the weather, time… and The Box’s setup. It’s how it’s always been, so let’s not dwell on that matter, okay? Thanks.”
“Very well, then. You heard her.” You nod back at the camera, capturing the massive stage for a few more seconds before pausing the recording.
Giselle’s passive-aggressiveness was one of her hottest traits, and you loved to watch her boss people around. Which she always made sure of doing, whenever she had the chance to.
The Japanese girl giggles at your words, nudging you gently. Not much further from you, Karina and Ningning stand in a big line to try some popular dish. You wave to them, and Giselle straightens her posture, following your stare with a grunt.
“So, you and Jimin, huh.” She asks, plucking at the grass with her shoes. It’s obvious she’s trying her best to sound nonchalant and not make a big deal out of it.
It was no secret that you were devoted to Karina, surrendering yourself with as much as a whisper from her. Still, it was amusing to you how shy Giselle seemed with her question. Her hesitation was sweet, so cute it draws a smile from your face.
“Oh… well, yeah.” You shrug, not at all ashamed. “She needs someone to warm up her bed.” You eye Giselle attentively, studying the older girl’s body language before adding, “I can help you with that too if you’d like. I know Jimin unnie wouldn’t mind.”
Your answer catches her off guard, her eyes wide from your straightforwardness. You’re nearly teasing her for being so shocked when she laughs, shaking her head. It’s Giselle, after all: the girl has such a flirty nature you’d be surprised if she didn’t give you a run for your money.
“We’ll see... You’re sure one of a kind, Y/n. That you are.” She answers, with a sultry tone before gently squeezing your arm and vanishing from your sight.
That is enough for you. The Japanese girl’s gorgeous looks and confident nature make her so desirable and hot— truly an it girl, often leading the group to try out new music styles and different types of choreographies. Giselle is always pushing herself outside her comfort zone.
It’s good that she knows you’re also willing to try anything she’d like, too.
Brushing that subject off your mind, you take some time to dive into the festival, just as curious as the girls were: the place is still beautiful, despite the weather. Its lively atmosphere is enchanting, and there is so much happening: from bands singing on minor stages to dance performances not much further from where you stand. Everyone seems eager to participate, and you’re just as excited to watch everything at once.
This event is also a great opportunity for you, considering you’re still attending university— hoping to major in Media Arts in two years or so. Even though you spend most of the time following the girls around, your passion for filmmaking and photography is also one of the reasons you’re so committed to recording everything your eyes meet. You plan on making this documentary into your final presentation of the year and submitting it to one of your main classes.
So you record everything: making a full turn to capture your entire experience. You’re so committed to your task that you don’t even notice Minjeong’s frame behind you, the blonde girl not making an effort to move such thing as an inch from out of your way.
The two of you collide with each other so roughly you have to hold onto the girl’s tiny frame with your free hand to prevent her from a having dirty fall. Minjeong gives you an ugly look, impatiently wiping the dirt from her plaid skirt. She’s judgy, as always— not a day goes by where the blonde doesn’t give you a hard time.
Although you weren’t exactly peaceful to her, either.
“Do you ever wear a bra?” She mumbles, annoyed. Minjeong’s fingers press the tip of her nose bridge and she closes her eyes as if dealing with you was enough to drain all of her energy.
“Why are you looking anyway?” You’re quick to snap back, crossing your arms over your chest.
Choosing comfort over fashion was something you’d always do, and today was no different. Your look for the day was rather basic, but perfect for someone who’d be walking around the entire time: a pair of jeans and a plain white tank top that made your Aespa badge visible to anyone who took a quick look at you. However, that little show of Winter has made the dirt that clung onto the fabric attract attention to your breasts, highlighting the way your pierced nipples peeked through. It had only been a few weeks since you and Giselle got them done, so you were still a bit hypersensitive.
Not that you minded, anyway. Minjeong would be a jerk regardless of that: the blonde made her life’s purpose to annoy the shit out of you, and she’s very committed on doing so.
Proving your point, Winter scoffs, all annoyed.
“You always make this shit on purpose, don’t you?” You stare at her, confused, and it seems like she’s had enough. Rolling her eyes, Minjeong brushes past you, nearly dragging you by the shoulders as she stomps away. “Whatever. Whore.”
Minjeong is so rude. Undeniably so, with an insanely stubborn temper. Her mood changes quickly, and it is hard to tell if she genuinely hates you or if it is just some kind of playful banter.
Not that you cared much, honestly. There were many important things for you to worry about, like the amazing festival happening at the moment. You’d deal with that nightmare of a girl some other time.
Instead of allowing the petite blonde to disturb your mind, you decide to walk around by yourself too— despite preferring to be surrounded by the girls at all times, it felt good to be on your own.
You were deeply committed to making a masterpiece out of your clips. If the work you handed in was good enough, then perhaps your professor would overlook the number of absences on your attendance sheet and give you a nice grade.
After walking around for a few minutes, a certain stage catches your attention: the structure is small and curiously held like a boxing ring, where nine girls sing and dance in beautiful harmony. The space is so far from the center of the festival its last rounds of chairs nearly drag onto the woods that surround the place.
The girls performing are all dressed in dark pants, white crop tops, and black ties, and they’re incredibly in synch while still making complicated moves. Their voices are sweet, and so is the music that flows to your ears: it’s a cover of one of your favorite songs, KARA’s Mr.
Your eyes go straight to the sign that hangs in front of the stage, looking for said group’s name. Thankfully, it’s easy to find, both in Hangul and Romanized.
Fromis9.
The nine girls’ bright stage presence fills up the area, and it amazes you how coordinated they are, not one outshining the other despite being so many. No lines are stolen in the song; instead, they add to each other beautifully, reminding you of your girls. The contrast is fascinating, from Aespa’s four-member band to those strangers, who sing cheerful songs like this will be the last happy summer of their lives.
You’re enchanted by them, truthfully. Not only talented, the girls seem genuinely sweet, as they spin and jump around to hype up the dead crowd. And oh, they’re stunning: each one with striking features, ones that surely seem like they’ve been taken straight out of a fairytale.
You make sure to record their entire performance, as well as the little playful moments reserved for interacting with their fans and supporters. Soon enough, the song ends, leaving the group breathless but happy. You watch as the girls bow and take turns passing small water bottles around, tired from giving their all on stage.
A few of them start a small discourse, although you don’t pay enough attention to grasp the meaning of their words. You’re too busy staring at one of them instead, hiding behind your camera so she doesn’t see how enamored you are.
The girl is small, but her slim waist and toned muscles announce she must spend most of her free time at the gym. An energetic pink-haired girl clings to one of her arms, providing a clear contrast to her long, pitch-black hair, but she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest: if anything, she hugs the energetic girl back, laughing and she twirls her friend around.
Luckily for you, there’s a big paper clasped in front of her shirt, just like every artist who is currently performing and competing at The Box. You search for her name with expectation, just like you’ve done with her group’s name.
Hers say, Saerom.
A beautiful name for an enchanting girl.
However, it’s her face that surprises you the most. She’s beautiful, of course— stunningly so, but so is everyone at this festival: something expected for a place with such a high concentration of artists, models, and people in the entertainment industry in general. But as you look into her high cheekbones and sharp jawline, you’re surprised to find such kind eyes staring back at you. Saerom’s eyes provide her soft, almost ethereal look as she nods to you. It’s a faint action, one a distracted eye would barely notice once she moved back to the middle of the stage with her bandmates, yet you’d never miss it. There’s no way she wouldn’t stand out, despite her plain outfit.
You could stare at her for hours.
Although you’re incapable of doing so: in a blink, steady hands grab your camera, and your arms are urged down so fast you nearly let it fall on the ground. Nothing disastrous happens, thanks to your steady grip and good reflex, but your vision is blocked by a serious Karina, fuming as she stares angrily at you.
“What are you doing, Y/n?” The leader’s cocky, angry voice is something you only hear when she’s feeling intimidated or when she wants to be petty, which is unusual for the occasion. Why would she be so defensive towards you?
Karina usually yaps her heart out until your ears hurt from her complaints. It’s a normal thing for her to do, whenever she’s pissed. However, she doesn’t say anything this time, clearly waiting— demanding an explanation.
So you lift your camera, playfully poking her in a failed attempt of easing the tension hanging in the air. “I’m making The Box’s documentary as my final presentation.” You stay on your tiptoes, trying to get a hold of the view Karina is blocking so confidently, but it’s useless by now: the performance is over, and the Fromis9 members have already retreated backstage. “For that class I told you about, remember?”
Karina rolls her eyes, ignoring your explanation as she directs you in the opposite direction. With a resolute tone, she brushes off the matter. “Whatever. Listen, Y/n: you should only focus on us, your band. There’s no need for you to look at anyone else.”
Oh, Karina’s fuming. It’s easy to tell, from the way she refuses to meet your face to the red that paints her cheeks. You giggle, enjoying her subtle possessiveness.
Truth be told, you thrived on being reassured just as much as the girls did. The only difference was that you made an immense effort to hide how much it aroused you, well aware they’d use it as an advantage.
Besides, there was a bit of truth behind her words: the girls were the only ones you truly felt connected to; they were yours just as much as you were theirs, and you didn’t feel like you needed to meet new people.
“Of course, Jimin unnie.” You nod, walking next to her as you turn your camera off and place it back in your backpack. “Aespa is the only band worth looking at, anyway.”
Karina blossoms under your praise, smiling brightly as she kisses you gently, her irritation gone. “Good girl. Now let’s go to the main stage. There are only two hours until our performance, and the girls are starting to get ready.”
You’d like to tease her back a bit, but now wasn’t the time. Not when the band’s nerves were all over the place, nervous they’d fuck up the opportunity of their lives. No, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You’d be their anchor, peace, and most faithful supporter as you always were, ready to remind the girls of their true potential.
With that, you and Karina walk back to the main stage with synchronized steps, and the moment with Saerom is brushed off to the back of your mind.
You've probably imagined the entire thing, anyway. There was nothing to wonder.
—
“Hello, girls. Are you Aespa?” The staff asks, entering the room with his eyes glued to the list in his hands. After the five of you nod, he adds, with a comforting smile, “You’re on in 30. Come after you finish your makeup and clothes so we can start the soundcheck and set up your microphones.”
With another nod, you fall into a nervous silence once again. The girls have waited for this opportunity for so long; the crowd’s heated screams could be heard from where you stood, only adding to the girl’s expectations. It was the first time they performed in front of so many people, let alone at such a big and renowned festival.
“I think I’m going to throw up.” Giselle mumbles, softening her necklace as if it were suffocating her. Her breaths were uneven, and her eyes were fixated on the ground.
Karina smiles softly at the girl. As the leader, she knows it’s her duty to look composed and relaxed, to tranquilize her bandmates. “You’re not going to throw up, Gigi. You just need some air. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
The leader grabs Giselle by the arm, urging her up. As they go through the door, Ningning rushes to follow their steps.
“I need to breathe too.” She gulps, not even sparing you a glance as she runs to catch up with her friends.
The nerves were striking, and they needed to look composed so they’d give their all on stage, as always.
You and Minjeong were the only ones left backstage, which allows you to take some time to study her better. The blonde sits perfectly still on the couch, with a rigid posture and hands clasped tightly on her lap. She looks composed, almost bored, as she always does— but you know her better.
Minjeong’s muscles are visibly tense, and her left leg bounces so much you’re afraid it’s going to be chopped off from her body. She’s usually so composed, rarely giving a fuck about anything in her life. Whatever it was, the most Minjeong would do was roll her eyes at it or give it a nasty, rude response. Nothing else.
Seeing her bottle up her feelings like that is something that leaves you deeply uncomfortable. The way she deals with her emotions is none of your business of course, and it’s not like she ever talks about how she’s feeling with anyone anyway.
Minjeong rarely talks about herself; not to you or her bandmates. She’s simply someone very private when it comes to that matter. It’s something the blonde struggles with— understanding and acknowledging her emotions are not things that come to her naturally, so Minjeong would often carry her burdens alone until the feelings get so heavy she explodes, taking it off on someone who has nothing to do with whatever it is she’s going through.
Although it surprises you to see how deeply caring the girl can be. Minjeong, who knows Karina loves apple-flavored candy and sorts them out for her leader, even though they all think it’s gross. Minjeong, whose personal space is sacred, allows Ningning to be as clingy as she wants, aware the maknae longs for physical contact after being deprived of it so much as a child. Minjeong, who is the most competitive person you’ve ever met, but lets Giselle beat her at deck games whenever they notice the Japanese girl is feeling down.
Minjeong, who despises you thoroughly, but snuck a new SD card into your purse after seeing you struggle with your camera for a few days.
You didn’t want her to make her big debut feeling like a nervous wreck. She needs to relax, and not be so tense otherwise she won’t do good in her performance.
And you know just what to do.
With a sigh, you drop your hand from the doorknob and turn to her, leaning on the wall to take a better look at Winter.
“You’re nervous.” You state, smirking at the sight of her face growing red—the blonde girl, usually so collected… oh, how she hates to be caught.
Most importantly, Minjeong hates you can always see right through her.
“Well no shit, Sherlock.”
Walking towards her with small, unhurried steps, you sit right next to her, crossing your legs as you lean onto her.
“I can help you with that.” You whisper to her, staring at her mouth. “Do you trust me?”
Minjeong scrunches her nose but doesn’t move away. Her answer, however, comes immediately— not an ounce of hesitation coming from her mouth. “Not at all.”
“Good.” You cup her face. “Wise girl.”
Leaning in, you capture Minjeong’s lips in a messy kiss. Despite her fiery personality, she tastes sweet, and you savor the strawberry essence of her lip gloss. Kissing Minjeong is addictive, yet you can’t seem to get enough of her. You lick her lips and devour her until your lungs scream for air, and the two of you get off each other when there’s no air and you’re both left desperate and breathless.
Minjeong’s blonde hair flows freely, her scrutinizing stare forgotten the moment the two of you got so close your breaths entwined. For a moment, you don’t do anything but stare at each other, as you look for any signs of what she’d like to do next. You’re nearly sure she’d tell you to get lost until she grabs your neck and pulls you close, kissing you for the second time.
“You’re completely insufferable, Y/n.” She murmurs in between the kiss as her thumb brushes down your neck. Even though there’s a faint pressure, her touch is almost soothing, urging you down to your knees. “Now, do more.”
You’re more than eager to follow her wishes, urging her pants and underwear down in a swift motion. Minjeong’s pussy is so pretty, all pink, swollen, and glistening, and you lick your lips with anticipation. The blonde girl lies comfortably on the couch as she spreads her folds with two of her fingers— showing herself to your hungry gaze.
“How do I look right now, Y/n?” Her tone is drenched with mockery as you squeeze her thighs, drawing a shiver from her. Your hands trace tiny circles on her milky skin, and you choose to ignore her; too focused on her beautiful body on display for you.
Minjeong’s free hand goes to grip your hair, annoyed by your lack of response. “Fine, then. Do you want to know how you look?”
Her malicious smile, much different from her delicate features, is what makes you shiver at her concentration. Giving her thighs faint bites, you ask, “Enlighten me, Minjeong.”
“Like a whore.” Her grip tightens and you can’t help but bite harder this time. “Hey! See, I’ve always said you’re just a cheap who—“
Minjeong is silenced by your warm tongue on her pussy, licking a big stripe of her sex, as you go all the way up to suck on her clit as well. Her high-pitched moans are like music to your ears, and you take turns sucking her sensitive bud and letting out some lewd, loud sounds as you nearly make out with her pussy.
“Do you want my fingers, pretty girl?” You mumble, staring at her through your lashes.
Minjeong looks like a painting, beautiful with her mouth half-opened and a thin cover of sweat covering her brows. She nods frantically, urging you even closer.
Greedy, that’s what she is.
“Yes, please.” It’s the first time you’ve ever seen use her manners, so you’re quick to comply. “Fuck, Y/n…”
Two of your fingers enter her cunt without any resistance as you thrust hard and fast. She bucks her hips to add to the stimulation, and you’re graced with the glorious view of her abs, thankful she chose a tiny crop top for the day. You want to see her tits, too, but it’s not like you’re in any position to demand anything— not while Minjeong uses you as a toy, rocking onto your mouth as her moans grow louder and louder.
You feel her walls tensing up, and her toes curl as she tells you, “Y/n, I’m going t—“
“Cum for me, Minjeongie.” You give her clit one last, harsh suck, as her breathing becomes even quicker. “That’s it, let go.”
Minjeong follows your commands, reaching her orgasm with a high-pitched moan as she squeezes your head in between her thighs. Her body trembles from the stimulation, and you keep your fingers inside her walls until she’s calmed down enough that her screams are reduced to heavy breaths. You lick her clean, then, careful to not touch her clit as you eat her out for a few other moments.
What’s most surprising to you, though, is the delicacy in her touch as she urges you up, tasting herself on your lips.
“Sweet.” She giggles, before grabbing your tank top and pushing you off her. Minjeong’s obsessed with oversized jeans, and her current ones look huge on her tiny waist as she takes her time with buttoning up. “I really needed that, Y/n. Thanks.”
You don’t bother to hide a cocky smile as you nod, shrugging.
“You’re going own that fucking stage today, Minjeong. All of you.” It’s what they were born to do. There isn’t a slight possibility of them not doing their absolute best on stage.
“I know.” Minjeong looks around, bouncing back and forth with her hands on her jeans’ back pocket. After a pause, she adds, with a quiet tone, “You’re going to be there, right? At the front row. Recording and all. It’s one of the only things you’re useful for.”
You smile, understanding the hidden meaning behind her bored tone. “Of course, I will, dumbass. I’ll be there with you, as always.”
You’d always be there for your girls: cheering, supporting, or helping the band with anything they needed.
Karina, Ningning, Giselle, and Minjeong were not sure of when you had become such an important figure in their lives, but there was something they all agreed on: they’ve grown too fond of you now. It was impossible to let you go.
Not that you had any intentions of leaving their side, anyway.
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