#in honor of my birthday being last week

[theanimeroom]

Hiii, one of isagi being such a cutie and respectful boyfriend BUT then in reader's birthday she wishes "world peace and being fucked by his cute bf" and then good boy isagi let her perv side out 🛐🛐🛐

yes 🫡

bf!isagi yoichi who was terrified of PDA when you two first got together. you assured him that it was fine, the two of you didn’t have to go farther than holding hands or occasional kisses whenever he felt comfortable. he still hesitated every time his fingers laced between yours though, his face turning bright red and his eyes always being unable to meet yours.

he always saw you as his little treasure, and he wanted all eyes away from you because you belong to him <3. he was used to being in the spotlight with his career, but he never wanted to drag you into it. there were probably several talks about making your relationship public, to which you didn’t mind, but isagi didn’t share the same sentiment.

he wanted you to himself, wanted to make sure that no one else even considered trying to make moves on you without having his fangirls trying to pick you apart. he’s a major homebody, believe it or not. whenever nagi or bachira would beg for him to come out he always opted to stay in the house with you, watching movies and eating candy so sweet you swore your teeth should have fallen out by now.

his love for you and natural reclusiveness only skyrocketed the day you opened your eyes to a platter being placed under your nose, the smell of fresh, crispy bacon and toast filling your sensing before you could even register what day it was.

“happy birthday!” his sweet voice was the first thing you got to hear, a sleepy smile stretching across your face. his eyes were big and filled with happiness as he watched you attempt to sit up, rubbing the rest of your fatigue away with your hands. when your breakfast was placed in front of you a small giggle broke through your yawn at the preparations. there were around 8 strips of bacon on the plate, along with scrambled eggs, a couple halves of toast and a blueberry muffin with a little candle wick placed on top. “i made your favorite.”

“did you?” you giggled, feeling your heart swell at the hopeful expression on isagi’s face. your boyfriend was always so sweet, almost sickeningly so sometimes. he was typically all forehead kisses and soft touches, like you were a porcelain doll. even in bed, he preferred making love to anything else, it made him feel like he was appreciating you for all that you were worth. you loved it of course, adored it even. it’s what made you fall in love with him in the first place, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel like you wanted….more.

you’d seen isagi on the field. you knew the kind of stamina, passion, and drive he had when it came to crushing his opponents, you just wished that sometimes he’d come home and crush you instead.

so when your sweet, innocent, loving boyfriend told you to make a wish on the muffin candle, you didn’t even have to ponder on your wish. leaning in with shielded vision, you spoke your wish with a sly smile on your face. “i wish for world peace and to be fucked by the undeniably hot boyfriend.”

when you looked at your boyfriend, his eyes were as wide as saucers. you were his sweet girl, and he’d never even considered being even remotely rough with you because of it. but alas, there was only so much strength a man could have after hearing that slip from your lips.

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, with your ass angled in the air and your moans muffled by the fabric of your pillowcase. there was one hand pressed against the back of your head, pushing you further into the bed when his other hand held down your arm against your back. your plea’s and moans fell on deaf ears though, the only thing on isagi’s mind being the filth that he’s spewing your way.

“aww, is this what my sweet baby wished for? wanted to be treated like a little slut, huh?” he punctuated his question with a hard thrust, hips flesh against your ass.

you wailed in the pillow, but a broken response didn’t seem to be enough for the man above you. with a brash tug his fingers were in your hair, tugging until your neck was strained and your teary eyes were looking back at him. his thrusts never slowed down still hitting all the spots that’s make you twitch and see those pretty little stars in the corner of your vision. “good little whores are supposed to answer when they’re spoken to, aren’t they?”

“y-yes!!” your voice was strained, body weak from pleasure although you tried to follow his instructions. your body shuffled, trying to push back against him but only receiving a rough slap on the flesh of your ass in response. his fingers dug into the skin as he leaned down, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

the air sent a shiver down your spine, your mind only filled with thoughts of him. his voice was light, the power of his thrusts leaving you both breathless. “my baby seems to be getting a little greedy,” he chuckled, a soft grunt slipping through at the wet patch staining the pillow, a string of drool leaving his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “but since it’s your birthday, i’ll let you off the hook.”

your back arched as isagi bottomed out inside of you, hips flush against your ass, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you moaned, trying your hardest to fuck yourself back onto him and chase the tingling feeling that permeated your toes and fingertips. you could barely breathe with the way he was fucking you, and if you weren’t in love with he man before this, you definitely were now.

“you know i love you right, baby?” isagi asked, grinning when you frantically nodded your head. he wasn’t even sure if you’d heard what he said to you, your eyes glazed over and breathing so labored that he laced his fingers in your hair and pulled your face out of the pillow. “you still with me sweet girl?”

“uh huh,” you groaned, pushing your hips back in hopes for him to fuck you more rather than talk. with a chuckle, isagi wrapped a hand around your waist.

“good, because you won’t be in a second,” were the last words he said before forcing his cock in as far as it could go. the sounds of skin against skin reverberated around the room, combined with the broken whimpers coming from you and the occasional moan and groan from isagi.

the knot in your stomach tightened as he prodded that one spot inside of you, causing the muscles in your body tense as your body started to succumb to the pleasure.

“gonna come for me baby?” the man above you asked, landing a harsh smack against the side of your ass. a guttural moan left you at the sensation, the sight of your cunt creaming his cock only causing his pace to quicken. with another smack you were wailing out a positive response, thighs trembling as they tried to keep your body upright. “wanna feel the birthday girl come all over me, you can do that pretty, right?”

isagi didn’t have to say another word, the simple request being all you needed to let the waves of pleasure take over your body with a strangled moan. isagi let out a moan of his own at the way you squeezed around him, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he bottomed out, eyes rolling as ropes of come painted your inner walls.

isagi breathed heavily into your ear, the sensation tickling your skin just enough to make you shuffle underneath him.

“mmm baby,” you spoke lowly, turning your head so your face wasn’t plastered into the pillow. the male above you hummed, eyes closed in bliss as he came down from his high. it took you a second before you were able to respond, still trying your hardest to catch your breath. when you did respond though, the words slipped from you with a smile.

“can this be my birthday present every year?”

don’t plagiarize! it’s not nice <3

theanimeroom

[eideticmemory]

LATE NIGHT TALKING | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

The best man and maid of honor hooking up? How cliche!!

Word Count: 8k

Warning/Includes: Ridiculous amounts of flirting. Very “omg just fuck him and get it over with” vibes. The wedding of a fictional couple that I got way too invested in! Smut! Named after this song because I was listening to it when I got the request lmao.

Shout out to Matthew for literally being in someone’s wedding while I was writing this. I love you, baby ❤️

Hattie Welsh is a city girl. She was born and raised downtown where she would walk herself to school during the week and had a route for maximum weekend shopping. An only child to two parents, a dad who stayed home when it was Not the norm, she got anything and everything she ever wanted. Her dad would meet her on the front porch with her bike after school and they'd cruise around the neighborhood. On weekends, all three of them would take the 10 minute drive to the local park where they'd bike the same 8 miles every Saturday. At the end of the trail was an ice cream shop. Birthday cake was her favorite. She'd get three scoops in a cone but her dad would always end up finishing the last scoop for her.

It was memories like these that inspired Hattie to use her business degree to open an outdoor supply company. She named it after her parents. Alan & Eva's Co-op. It started very local. But Hattie was always good with promotion. She had an excellent marketing team and connections formed around the state. A year into business and Alan & Eva had three locations.

With this sudden growth, Hattie had to seek out more intensive financial advisement and she requested the services of LF Corporation - financial consultants of companies like North Face and REI.

This is how she met Cole Briggs.

Cole was sent to meet with Alan & Eva's CEO. He knew her name, he knew her qualifications, he knew the context of their meeting. He did not know how gorgeous she was so he was immediately caught off guard. His palms were sweaty by the time they shook hands.

"Oh, wow!" he remarked as he saw the bike mounted on her wall. "A Schwinn? I had the same one as a kid but in green!"

"Oh my gosh, yes! That's actually my childhood bike!" she beamed. She leaned over her desk with a bright smile. "I've kinda outgrown it."

He laughed, "I grew up in Pullen Park neighborhood so my friends and I would ride the trail at-"

"Warren park?" she gasped. "My parents and I used to go every weekend, still do!"

"No way! Where-where are your parents?"

"Downtown, near the natural science museum."

"Ah, yeah, yeah. We didn't get downtown often but we would occasionally have family dinner nights at Kaleidoscope."

"Oh, we love kaleidoscope. The lobster-"

'Mac and cheese! Are you kidding? I can inhale it in one bite. Sometimes my dad would pick it up for me on the way home.”

She cackled. She looked at him lovesick. "How have we never met?"

"What high school did you go to?"

"Hollis. You?"

"Ah, okay. I went to the Day School."

"Ooh, fancy pants."

Blush crept over his face and flustered, he set out his briefcase and took a deep breath. "So you're looking into financial assistance for all three locations?"

She stared at him for a moment, "That's right."

And that was it.

Immediately after Cole left the room, she called you. Her best friend, her confidant, her person. You had your hands busy at work so you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Hello?"

"[y /n]! Hi, you busy?"

"Uh, a little. But I can chat. What's up?"

"I think I just met my husband."

You paused. "Okay, I'm not busy."

Cole proposed while they were on a hike. A week before, he had asked for your blessing. He said, "You'll be the first one she calls so I just didn't want you to be surprised."

Though, when she facetimed you to show you the diamond rock, you still pretended to be surprised.

A formal ask to be her maid of honor was completely unnecessary. You were born to do it. Who else would it be? Still, she made you the cutest basket, filled with perfume, a travel mug, some candles, some candy. You happily accepted.

And happily planned her engagement party and bridal shower and bachelorette party. You got the dress she wanted you to wear. And when the weekend finally arrived, you traveled nearly an hour into the country to get to the wedding venue.

10 acres of privately owned land sequestered down a dirt road. The ceremony site was a simple platform with an arbor placed in front of rows of benches. Surrounded by trees. Hiding right beside it is a wooden home designated for the newlyweds. The reception site is about a mile away, covered by a tent. There is a garden of roses and daisies. Further down the property is a large barn with rows of tents. It is absolutely everything Cole and Hattie wanted. It is so them.

You help set up for the rehearsal dinner. The parents of the bride and groom have arrived. Your friends and fellow bridesmaids are mingling with the groomsmen. Hattie would be so much more stressed without Opal. Opal is a an older woman, short but strong and a prolific wedding planner. She ushers the men around like pieces on a chess board and directs the caterers without so much as a glance.

As you chat with the happy couple, she calls, "Cole." It's not exactly friendly. She marches up and takes a firm hold of his arm.

"Yes, ma'am?" Cole shakes and Hattie glances over at you with a small smirk. You have to contain your laughter.

"Where is the best man? We are way behind schedule and losing daylight."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. He had to fly in but last I heard he was on the road from the airport."

"Okay, can I get an ETA on that?"

"I, uh...I don't... have one."

"Babe!" Hattie whines.

"Hey, I'm sorry! Look," he glances at all three of you, intimidated by your pressed faces. "T'll give him a call."

"Wonderful idea," Opal watches closely as he steps away, his phone in his hand, quickly pressed to his ear. She turns away from Hattie, mumbling,

"You update me on that, okay?"

"Yes, Opal," she nods and turns to you with a huff.

You giggle, "Are you sure this guy's real?"

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Okay, well," you throw your hands up in a shrug, "Can't we just start without him? It's hot and we're supposed to be eating already."

"No, we can't. It throws off the flow of the ceremony. Plus, Cole really wants him here."

"Mhm and where is this guy coming from again?"

"Matthew."

"Huh?"

"His name is Matthew."

"Okay. Where is Matthew coming from?"

"New York. I told you he's an actor."

"Yes, yes," you roll your eyes. "Surprised he could find time in his busy schedule to come to his friend's wedding."

"He loves Cole. Cole loves him. More than me, I think. They've known each other forever."

'Mhm. Quick question, does Matthew know Cole's getting married tomorrow?"

She shakes her head and laughs, beaming at Cole as he walks back over. "Hi, baby. Did you talk to him?"

"Uh...no..." he feels bad saying it. "But! I'm sure he'll be here any second."

"Cole!" it's a shriek from the distance that instantly silences the crowd. The crunching of leaves under hurried feet, rustling through the trees, "Cole! I'm here! I'm here!"

"See?" Cole says to Hattie with the brightest smile. "I told you, I told you! Matthew!" he waves.

And out of the trees comes what you can only describe as a colorful slenderman. He's tall and dressed in a sage suit, in accordance with the dress code. He nearly trips coming down the steps but he catches himself, just in time, stumbling over on the tip of his toes. The center of attention, pulling all eyes towards his entrance, which you think would annoy the bride and groom. But no, you look at them and they're just delighted. Grinning ear to ear, Cole's arms outstretched to catch Matthew in a great, big hug.

"Oh, man!" Matthew huffs. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. My flight got delayed and then I couldn't get a rental and then I got lost, I'm so sorry!" he instantly releases Cole to give Hattie a kiss on the cheek and a hug, "I'm so sorry, please don't kick me out of your wedding."

Hattie cackles, “Oh, we could never!”

You watch as his expression transfers from guilt to a sweet smile. You watch him rub your best friend's back and give her one final squeeze before his eyes cut up and accidentally meet your gaze. He couldn't help but wonder where the pretty sandals and pretty dress would lead, but once he sees your face, he can't look away. He stands up tall and takes a small step around Hattie just to get to you. "Hi," he holds out his hand.

"Hi," you smile and your hand fits in his like a glove. You only take a second to memorize the features of his face, the tip of his nose, the stubble on his chin, the light in his eyes. But it feels like an eternity.

Behind him, Hattie and Cole watch the spark catch flame. She nudges his arm and they look at each other with knowing smiles. Cole nods, "Uh, Matthew, this is Hattie's best friend and maid of honor, [y/n]. [y/n], this is my best friend and best man, Matthew."

"ly/n]." Matthew says breathlessly. "Hi."

"Matthew. Hello, nice to meet you."

"Now," he slyly puts his hand over yours to keep it in place. "That is maid of honor, right? Not matron?"

You giggle, "Yes. I'm completely and totally unwed."

"Good, good. Excellent. Love to hear it."

You giggle, again, and it's the most ridiculous sound. Cole and Hattie could not enjoy the show any more. "You two will actually be walking down the aisle together," Hattie says.

"Oh, wow," Matthew exclaims. "Had I known that, I would've been here way sooner."

"So not funny, dude," Cole shakes his head but you think it's hilarious.

"You're laughing?" Opal's voice cuts the laughter short. "The sun is setting, the food is getting cold and you're laughing?"

"Sorry, Opal," Cole frowns. "This is Matthew, the-"

"Matthew, [y/n], I need you two right here," she interrupts and with a hand on Matthew's shoulder, she gently pushes him to the side. She pushes him directly into you and it's almost instinct for his hands to take hold of your waist. Just as much so for your palms to fall on his chest.

"Oh no," he whispers. "This is... terrible."

You laugh and take a step back but he holds onto to your wrist, places your hand around his bicep as he faces forward.

"You feel at home being directed all over the place?" you ask, anxiously straightening out your dress.

"Um, actually I prefer to do the directing."

"Oh, have you considered wedding planning?"

"I offered to plan for these guys but they turned me down. I mean, what the fuck?"

"Well, I think that would've required you to be on time. Early even."

"Oh, then I'm out."

You cackle, a lot louder than you mean to, and once again here's Opal. "You two need to switch sides."

"Hm?"

"Switch."

"Oh."

You feel Matthew's hand linger on your back as you step around him, your hand instantly latching onto his opposite arm.

"We're so good at this," you shrug.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, right? Right? You'd think she'd cut us some slack."

Despite all the fuss leading up to it, the ceremony rehearsal itself is only 10 minutes at most. You and Matthew are the last to make your entrance and it is an odd feeling to separate. He stands on the opposite side of the arbor and as the flower girl practices her walk, he catches your eyes and mouths: miss you.

"Wonderful!" Opal cheers. It's the first time you've seen her smile all night. Once Cole and Hattie have finally taken their places right in the center. "Absolutely wonderful. Now, if everyone will head over to the reception hall for dinner. There is a lukewarm meal awaiting you all," and she cuts her eyes at Matthew.

"Again, Opal, so sorry about that," he shakes his head. You seem to be the only one who finds it funny.

Hattie gives Cole one big kiss and turns to you, "How weird was that? Me walking down the aisle? Did I look stupid?"

You take her hands in yours, shaking your head, "You looked beautiful. It's gonna be beautiful."

She shrieks, a long "eeeek!" of excitement that ripples amongst you and your friends. The group steps down from the platform, followed closely by the groom and his party. Matthew takes the opportunity to grab Cole's arm and whisper, "How long have you known [y/n]?”

"Uh, pretty much as long as I've known my fiancée." he laughs.

"And you were... what? Just hiding her from me? Not cool."

"You were hardly in the proper condition for someone like [y/n]. She's, uh, how do I say? Very grown up. Very focused, like her best friend.”

"And now? What condition am I in now?"

"The kind of condition where...I literally had no choice but to let you meet her?"

"Fuck off," Matthew shoves him and Cole stumbles with a cocky laugh.

"Sooooo," Hattie says as she interlocks your arms. She notices you looking back and she knows exactly who you're looking for. "Little lady?"

"Yes, little miss?"

"What do you think of Matthew?"

Your stomach flips at the sound of his name. "What do you mean?"

"Don't do that."

"What? What are you talking about?"

“This was you the whole rehearsal.." she sticks her finger between her teeth and mocks your giggle, "Tee-hee. Oh, tee-hee-hee-hee.”

"I was not!"

"Oh, but you were. You're quite smitten."

"I am not!"

"He's smitten with you, too."

"Whatever," you roll your eyes. But after a brief pause, you ask, "You think so?"

Clink-clink-clink.

You watch as Hattie rises from her seat, her doting fiancé standing beside her, to give a toast. You look up at her and it's not until this moment that you realize she's getting married. Not when she tried on her dress, not when she did a practice run down the aisle. Here. Now. With Cole's arm around her waist.

"Thank you all so much for being here. We're so grateful to have all our closest friends and family by our sides through this crazy weekend. I know some of you traveled very far and some of you are probably wondering when this whole thing will just be over but," she laughs along with the crowd. "Soon. Very soon. Thank you all for being readers in our little fairytale. Particularly these people sitting up here beside us, I know my friends have gotten an earful about Cole over the years."

"What did she say?" Cole interrupts, jokingly cutting his head towards all of you which earns him a burst of laughter.

"Seriously. Thank you all. Tomorrow wouldn't be possible without you and we can't imagine any other way. So…" she raises her glass glass and, because she's the bride and everyone must obey, everyone raises theirs as well. She looks Cole right in the eye and gives him that same lovesick smile she gave them the day they met. You glance away for only a moment and Matthew is looking at you the same way.

You tilt your head at him, furrow your eyebrows.

"To you," Hattie says. "To me. To us. Cheers."

"Cheers!" you toast, looking directly at Matthew who raises his glass to you, you alone, before taking a sip.

At the end of the night, the bride and groom are meant to retire to their respective areas. Cole and his groomsmen have a cabin on the other side of the property. Hattie and the girls have reign of the barn and an array of tents just in case they're feeling particularly outdoorsy. Yet, when the time comes, you and your friends sit on the barn's porch and watch Hattie and Cole embrace each other for a long time.

"I change my mind," she tells him. "We should just spend the night together. Let's go to our tree house."

He giggles and gives her a gentle kiss, "Ah, you just wanna get in my pants."

"So?"

A cackle now, "Goodnight, future wife. I love you."

"Noooo!"

"I love you!"

"I love you!"

Hattie waits until he's out of sight, and even then, she stands there and wishes for him to come back.

"H! Come on, honey," your friend calls to her. "It's late. Big day tomorrow!"

So she reluctantly walks up the stairs and begins the process of unwinding. It's not easy. Every second something pops into her mind and she hops up, ready to spring into action. It's a group effort to reel her in. Eventually, it's just you and her, lying in a cozy bed and she can barely keep her eyes open. She's trying though.

"Okay," you sigh. "I should probably get going. You gonna be alright?"

She nods, "I'm getting married..."

You grin, "Yes, ma'am. You are. So you need to get some rest," you kiss her forehead and rise out of bed, groaning as you straighten yourself up. "You need anything?”

"Mm-mm," she shakes her head. "I'm okay. See you in the morning."

"See you in the morning."

You're one of the few who chose to rough it in a tent for the night. There's a small heater and a platform bed. It's not a whole lot but the bedding is comfortable. You snuggle in and despite all your exhaustion, you spend the next chunk of time scrolling on your phone. When you hear a faint knock on the scaffolding of your tent, you’re suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you're in the middle of the woods. Alone. Quite a distance between you and the next tent. You sit up slowly, unsure if your mind is playing tricks on you. You take timid steps towards the opening and flinch as a shadow passes by.

You hesitantly pull down the zipper and when you see Matthew wondering around, you breathe a sigh of relief. “Fuck, dude. You scared the crap out of me."

"I'm so sorry," he instantly returns and lowers himself down to your level. "I didn't mean to."

"Um..you do know this is the bridal side of the property, right?"

"Mhm. I was looking for you."

"Me?"

"Mhm. Wanna go for a walk?"

"A walk?"

"Yeah, with me?"

"With you?"

"Okay, just assume I mean everything I say from now on."

You giggle, "I just met you a few hours ago...you want me to walk some random trail with you in the middle of the night?"

"All true, yes."

You tilt your head at him, "Fine. Okay."

"Don't sound too excited."

You turn around briefly to grab a hoodie. You throw it on and step out of the opening, taking Matthew's hand as you step off the platform. He takes your hand and he doesn't let go. He'd hate to lose you in the dark.

“So,” he says as you start down the trail. Your face is gently illuminated by the lights along the pathway and he can’t stop staring. “How do you know Hattie?”

“Technically high school, but I think we were separated at birth.”

He chuckles, “Best friends, huh?”

“Oh, best friends. Went to college together, too. Lived together for a while, didn’t kill each other.”

“That’s rare.”

“I know. I don’t see her nearly as often as I’d like but that’s my girl. How do you know Cole?”

“Drama camp.”

You stop in your tracks, stop both of you in your tracks. Still, Matthew doesn’t let go of your hand. “Drama camp?”

“Yes? You didn’t know Cole was a theater kid?”

You continue walking but your face is absolutely flabbergasted. “Cole? Finance bro Cole? A theatre kid? You’re fucking with me.”

“Oh, I am not. He was quite good actually,” he laughs. “He could’ve been a star.”

“Wow…” you shake your head. “Wow. You think you know someone.”

“And then you find out he was in a summer production of Fiddler on the Roof.”

You stop again. You feel like you could fall to your knees. “Matthew. Please. Please tell me there are pictures.”

“My mom recorded the whole thing, there’s a cassette tape somewhere.”

“Oh my god!” you cackle. “You’ll have to show me.”

“Fly out to Vegas with me at the end of the weekend. I’ll show you all the good stuff.”

“Oh. You’re planning on taking me to your hometown already? To meet your mom and everything?”

“You can meet my mom, you can meet my dad, you can meet my stepparents, you can meet my sister, my brother, her husband, his wife, my nephews.”

“Woah!”

“Oh, they’d love you.”

“I just wanna see Fiddler on the Roof!”

You’re not sure how long you stay out with him. The trail lights make it seem like no time has passed at all. You fill the air with so much chatter that it’s a shock when you loop around to the barn. As you near your tent, Matthew’s steps grow smaller. Slower, following close behind you with your hand still tight in his.

“Well,” he sighs. “Thank you for accompanying me. I was scared to walk alone.”

“Oh, is that why you invited me?”

“I just thought I’d get lost by myself. Needed backup.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “You do seem quite helpless.”

“You have no idea.”

You giggle and as you step up to your tent, you’re not ready to go inside just yet. So you turn to him and he is dangerously close to you. You can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

“Well, I had a nice time,” you smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to happen. You raise yourself on your toes. He takes a firm hold of your forearms. His nose touches yours. Then you hear the sharp sound of a zipper slashing open. You both flinch and look over to see your friend, poking her head of wild hair out the opening of her tent.

You bashfully step away from Matthew, crossing your arms. “Hi, Gina.”

Gina squints, yawning, “[y/n]?” She rubs her tired eyes and looks at you. Then at Matthew. Then you. Then Matthew. “Uh…what the hell are you two doing?” she smirks.

“Nothing,” you tell her. “Go back to sleep.”

She looks at you. Then Matthew. Then you. You. And she ducks her head back in.

You chuckle shyly and shake your head. Moment’s gone but he still looks pretty under the moonlight.

“It’s late,” you whisper. “I need my beauty sleep.”

He scoffs, “To get even more beautiful?” he shakes his head jokingly as he backs away. “[y/n], that’s just greedy.”

You laugh, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes. You will,” he waves as he walks away. Blowing you a kiss, “Goodnight, [y/n].”

You wait until he's out of sight, and even then, you stand there and wish for him to come back.

“Ahhhh!” Hattie screams once you rise in the morning. You step into the barn, groggy and sluggish, but when you see her rushing towards you, you can’t help but smile. “Hi! Good morning!”

“Good morning, beautiful bride!” you give her a tight hug.

“We’re having a little breakfast. Here’s your mimosa.”

You glance down at the glass, taking it from her hesitantly, “It’s eight in the morning?”

“Hey, everyone has to do what I say today!”

“Okay, okay,” you take a quick sip and she beams, sitting down beside you at the table.

You fill your plate with food and seamlessly fall in conversation. None of it about the wedding, ironically. You have the rest of the day for that. Right now, in this moment, it’s gossip. It’s silly. It’s so relaxing that you don’t even realized you’ve finished your mimosa.

“I thought it was pretty cozy,” Gina shrugs. “Not sure what [y/n] thinks but then again she was out with Matthew all night.”

There is an immediate halt. Forks hitting the plate, a stunned silence falling over the room and all eyes on you.

“You were?” Hattie gasps.

You stutter, “It…wasn’t…all night. We-we just went for a walk.”

“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” a friend chimes in.

“We went for an actual walk!” you exclaim. “It was nothing.”

“Ohhhh, yeah,” Gina laughs. “It sure looked like nothing when I caught you two making out.”

Instant gasps.

“We did not make out!” you insist. “We didn’t even kiss!”

“H, how do u feel about making this wedding a joint thing?”

You look down, picking at your food as your face burns red and Hattie is just grinning at you.

Across the way, Cole receives a text from his bride, saying: Ask your friend wtf he was doing last night

Cole raises his eyebrows and spots Matthew shaving in the bathroom mirror. He slyly walks in and crosses his arms. He tries his best to be nonchalant, leaning back against the wall, eyeing Matthew in the mirror, “So. You have a good night?”

Matthew furrows his brows at him, “Yeah? Bed was comfortable.”

“Mhm. And…you didn’t…didn’t sneak off anywhere?”

Matthew completely turns his body around, “You and the wife talking about me?”

“My wife and her wife are talking about you, I think.”

He can’t help but smile to himself, “Well…cool…”

Cole laughs, “What’s the plan here, dude?”

“The plan is…to see [y/n] again as soon as humanly possible.”

Cole shakes his head, breaking a smile, “You do know that this is my wedding, right?”

Matthew laughs as he pats his face clean, “Yeah but…I don’t know, I was kinda thinking we could make it a joint thing?”

Once everyone’s hair and makeup is done, it’s silly to you that you have to pretend to do it all for photos. The makeup artist holds her brush to your full glam face just so the photographer can take a shot and it takes everything in you not to laugh. But it’s what the bride wants. You and the girls get into your dresses. You twirl and giggle like a game of dress up. Until Opal announces Hattie’s entrance. Then suddenly it’s very real.

Hattie walks downstairs in her gown, a ballgown specifically. Poofy, but not too big, a corset holding up her breasts, a diamond necklace on her chest to match her earrings. Her hair is put up and curled. Her makeup is done to perfection.

Oh. She is just perfect.

It moves everyone to a fit of squeals but you clasp your hands over your mouth and just stare at her. You go to wipe the tears from your eyes but remember your makeup so you fan your face. She laughs as she walks directly to you and takes you a tight hug. The photographer captures your sobbing face in all it’s glory. Hattie will frame that one for sure.

When Hattie’s dad comes around to escort her to the ceremony site, you take her hands in yours.

“It’s not too late,” you tell her. “We can still run.”

She laughs. “You know…I thought I might for a second there but…nah, I don’t wanna. I wanna marry him.”

You have to shake your head to keep from crying, “Okay. Okay, then let’s get you fucking hitched.”

Guest have arrived. Each chair is full and the forest around them is positively buzzing with excitement. The florals accentuate the atmosphere beautifully and now all that’s missing is the blushing bride.

You walk down the pathway with your friends, each of you holding up your dresses to protect them from the dirt. Your dress is by far the shiniest. Though all of yours are a variation of green patterns, yours is solid and laced with golden glitter tulle. The maid of honor must stand out. Matthew catches sight of you immediately but not just because you’re the maid of honor, not just because you’re shiny. But because it’s you.

And you look amazing.

It’s like everyone and everything around you fades away. Like he’s watching you walk towards him in slow motion. Your hair flowing in the wind, your lips stretching out into a smile just for him. When you step up to him, he has to take a moment because you just smell so good.

“Wowww,” he breathes out. “Look at you.”

You blush, “Look at me? Look at you!” you don’t even think about it, you just touch his clean shaven face. Run your knuckles over the smooth skin and he revels in it, closing his eyes for just a second. “You clean up nice.”

“Thank you. I only do it when absolutely necessary.”

You laugh and lean into him a bit, totally fixated until you notice the other bridesmaids watching you both from the sidelines. You cut your eyes at them and take a step back. You’re grateful when Opal comes in with her iron fist, arranging you all in order and demanding you stay there.

The music starts, you take a deep breath. You gave Matthew’s arm a squeeze, “You remember anything from rehearsal?”

“Nope, not at all. Just winging it.”

There is not much to say about the ceremony itself except that everyone - everyone - is in tears by the end. It is only thirty minutes but after it all, Cole and Hattie are married and nothing has ever felt so right.

Matthew links your arms as you make your exit behind the newlyweds and you can help but laugh at the tears staining his cheeks. You grin as you wipe them away with your thumb.

Pictures.

So many fucking pictures. So many poses. So many arrangements. So many beautiful backdrops to stand in front of and smile and live in awe of the bride and groom. Eventually, Cole and Hattie go off to take their own portraits and unsurprisingly, you wind up eating a plate of hors d'oeuvres with Matthew.

“You know her?” he asks you, nodding his head towards a guest who stays seated, fanning herself with her wedding program.

“Yeah, that’s Mia. We went to college with her.”

“It’s, like, not that hot out here, right? Am I crazy?”

“Asshole,” you swat his arm. “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh…oh. Oh, she is?”

“Yes!” you giggle. “You just can’t tell because she chose the poofiest dress to wear today.”

“Oopsie,” he cringes. “Hey, is that something you might consider?”

“Hm?”

“Getting pregnant?”

You nearly choke on your bite of food but promptly clear your throat, “What the fuck? Is that a threat?”

“No. No, it’s an offer,” he grins.

You shake your head at him, ducking your hesd down so he can’t see your heated face. Your smile. “You have your speech prepared?" you ask him.

"Speech?"

"Uh, yeah. Your best man speech?"

"I was supposed to write a speech?" he exclaims.

Your jaw drops in shock and horror and you're dangerously close to scolding him until you see a smirk form on his face.

'That's not funny!"

"Of course I have a speech. You think I'm nuts?"

"Yes!"

"I have a speech prepared that is going to bring absolutely everyone in attendance to tears. They might as well go ahead and pass out the tissues now."

"Oh, real confident there, huh?"

"My speech is gonna kick your speech's ass."

You cackle, "It's not a contest, you freak. We're declaring our love for our best friends and their new spouse!"

"Sounds like you're nervous. Sounds like you can't take the heat."

"What heat? You know what? I'm not doing this with you. I'm gonna deliver my speech and as long as Hattie loves it, I'm content."

He nods, “…bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk."

"Stop it!"

"[y/n]!” you hear from behind you and you whip your head around. Hattie is running up to you, dress lifted, feet fast. "[y/n]!"

You run right to her, catching her in your arms as you collide, "What? What is it? What's wrong? What are you doing? You're supposed to be getting ready for your grand entrance!"

She huffs, catching her breath, "I know. I will. I am, whew..." she catches her breath. "I just had to tell you," she pants. "I just got fucked in my wedding dress!"

"Oh!" you cover your mouth to conceal your burst of laughter. "Oh my god! I thought this was a classy party!"

"Well, we wrote it into the schedule. We even finished with three minutes to spare. Both of us!"

"Oh my god!" you repeat, hunching over in laughter as she runs off.

You and Matthew hadn’t prepared anything especially elaborate for your reception entrance. But the DJ makes the best man and maid of honor sound like such a big deal that you have to do something. Anything. And utimately, he just ends up twirling you around in front of him. Your dress flows through the air, this wide smile on your face and he so casually wraps his arms around you to prevent you from tripping in your heels.

Seriously. Could you two make it any more obvious?

Cole and Hattie are greeted with an uproar of applause and cheers, the photographer right in their faces, an outpour of love coming from all around them. You clap your hands incessantly and right in your ear is Matthew cheering, his hands on your waist, your back against his chest like it’s no big deal.

You sit down to eat with your friends and it’s one big round table of alcohol, gushing, yelling and laughter. Matthew’s called up to give his speech and he makes sure to walk by you on his way up. “Watch and learn,” he whispers.

You shake your head, roll your eyes, but you’re watching him. You’re watching the way he instantly takes control of the room and radiates this light under the night sky. You’ve got to give it to him. It’s a good speech. From beginning to end, it’s captivating. The emotional cadence in his voice ripples across the room and there is actually, literally a box of tissues being passed around.

He’s applauded by every guest and he immediately runs up to Cole and Hattie to give them a tight hug. He walks over to you and holds the microphone out for you, “Beat that.”

You eye him as he walks off and the giddy smile on your face quickly disappears when you make eye contact with Gina. She pinches her fingers and knocks her hands together, puckering her lips and making kissing sounds.

“Stop it,” you whisper.

You’re not as used to the spotlight as Matthew so when you stand up in front of everyone, you freeze for a moment. You struggle to get the words out. It’s not a contest, but you’re already losing. So you look at Hattie, the one person you are doing all of this for. It makes it a lot easier to just, speak your truth, “Hi. I’m [y/n] and Hattie is my very best friend.”

Hattie’s a mess instantly.

That’s the fun part about being the bride’s best friend. You know all the best parts of her relationship. You also know all the worst parts but those don’t need to be spoken today. You know how it’s made her happier, stronger, glow in a way she never thought possible. You know better than anyone that this is where she’s meant to be and who she’s meant to be here with.

She can hardly wait one second after you finish to run up to you and give you a big hug. She squeezes you so tightly that you think she’ll never, ever let you go. You escort her back to the sweethearts table and throw a smug look towards Matthew’s way. He puts his hands up in surrender. You win.

After a while, when the grandparents and kids have left and the hour for the fun adults has arrived, you’re just buzzed enough to dance. And you do. You let Hattie shake her ass on you a bit and for a while, you’re just girls again. No one’s wife, no one’s employee. Just girls. It wears you. You take a seat just to down the rest of your wine and catch your breath.

“You all danced out?” Matthew asks as he approaches you. He holds out his hand, “Or you got one more left in you?”

You tilt your head, drunkenly smirking at him, “I think I can squeeze you in.”

“Yeah?” he pulls you to your feet and into his arms. “Squeeze me into where?”

You giggle. You shamelessly fall into his chest, “Take me to the dancefloor.”

He does, he lead you right to the center. He puts his hands on the small of your back and cradles your hand against his chest. He breathes in the scent of your hair and sighs.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do once I have to part from you tomorrow.”

“Just put me in your pocket,” you whisper. “Take me to the big city.”

He chuckles, pulls you closer, putting your bodies flush together. “I will, in a heartbeat. Just say the word.”

You grin. You stare into those beautiful eyes of his and inhale the center of his chest and exhale with a soft hum, “The word.”

He smiles. You smile. You take a look around and then you two make your exit.

Off to the side, the bride and groom are slow dancing. The rest of the world has faded away. Though their feet are a bit uncoordinated, everything feels properly in place.

“Sooo,” Hattie puts her nose to his. “You’re thinking the same thing I am, right?”

“Thaaaat we have three more minutes of fun time? You wanna go now?”

She cackles, “No! About Matthew and [y/n].”

“Ohhh, right. Them. You were right. I owe you five bucks.”

“Mhm. For the rest of your life.”

He smiles softly, rubbing her back. He looks around the area and furrows his eyebrows, “Where…are Matthew and [y/n]?”

Hattie giggles, singing, “I know where they are.”

“No…” Cole gasps. “No…you think?”

She shakes her head at him. Sweet, dumb Cole. “Oh you are just so cute!” she kisses his nose.

In the solitude of your tent, Matthew stands behind you and slowly unzips your dress. He plants soft kisses on each spot of your skin as it’s revealed and you hum under your breath at the gentle contact. His hands latch onto the thin straps and pull them over your shoulders. He kisses your neck and runs his hands over your chest as he pushes the dress down your body. All that’s left of you is a strapless bra and seamless panties that he sticks his hands in. You step out of them and turn to face him.

You touch his face and look at him with these hooded eyes, smiling softly as you push his jacket off of his shoulders. You undo the buttons on his shirt and touch all over his exposed chest. He nuzzles his nose into yours as you take off his pants and he falls back on the tiny bed, letting you pull them off his legs.

He stretches out his legs but his feet hang off the edge so he bends his knees, “I don’t think I fit,” he chuckles.

You grin as you casually straddle his lap, running your hands over his arms. “We’ll just have to make you fit,” you whisper.

He gives you the faintest little whimper, leaning in to you with his mouth open. And just like you had meant to last night, finally, you kiss him. You kiss him. You touch his tongue to yours and place your hand on his throat, engulfing his entire mouth in yours. Both of you release these deep, guttural moans and Matthew gasps as you roll your hips on him.

He grips onto your waist, readjusts to get the right angle and you can feel him getting hard between your legs. It's almost juvenile, the way you both get so hot from dry humping. The way your mouths are so hungry that there's no coordination.

There's moments where you go in for his lips and catch his cheek instead and he pushes his face into yours so quickly that he only catches your bottom lip. He goes to grab your hair to keep you in place but he doesn't want to mess it up so he holds the back of your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, take a tight grip of his hair and lean your entire body on his. There, the friction is perfect and you moan directly into his mouth.

Matthew shifts his focus to your jaw, gently nibbling on the skin from your ear to your neck as he unhooks your bra. You whine quietly, rocking your hips against him and leaning your head back to expose your throat. He wants to fucking bite you. He has the quickest impulse to sink his teeth into you but he doesn’t want to leave a mark so his hands land harshly on your ass as he groans in your ear. You gasp, your back arching and you think: fuck this.

You put your hand on his chest and push him back on the bed. He lets you but he whimpers. He wants to be kissing you. Needs to be kissing you. He looks up at you with wide eyes, his jaw dropping when you free his cock from his briefs. He licks his lips, nodding, begging, “Mm��mhm, mhm, mhm, mhm.”

You giggle at him, but that giggle is cut quickly by the ease in which his cock slides into you. You both gasp and he catches you as you fall into his arms. You feel just as good as he thought you would. Better. Even better. You watch his eyes roll to the back of his head and you try to kiss but your mouth are wide open. It’s mainly just heaving breathing and teeth on teeth.

He takes full advantage of the angle in his knees, keeps his hands on your ass to spread you open and push all the way into you. He likes the sound you make so he does it again. Again. Pulling all the way, pushing all the way in. Again, a little deeper. Again, a little harder. Harder and harder until you’re squeaking against each other’s lips uncontrollably, the one thing that’s louder than the sound of his skin slapping into yours.

He looks into your hooded eyes and begs, “Kiss me.”

So you do. You kiss him with a sloppy mouth and once again, there’s no coordination. You’re rocking around the tiny bed so carelessly that it might break. But even then, you wouldn’t stop. It’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to think. You just push yourself back on his cock, meeting him at just the right time that you’re entire body twitches violently.

“N-not…fuck…” you stutter against his lips. “Not…gonna…last…long…like this…mm, fuck.”

And he grins, delighted at the thought of getting you off. So quickly, so easily. Still, he pleads, “Oh…” he bucks his hips up into you. “Can’t we just…m-make it last forever? P-please…please, please, please…”

You shut him up with another kiss. You grab onto his hair and grind on him eagerly, chasing your high for what feels exactly like forever. The way the tension builds first in your thighs and then your belly and radiates throughout your entire body, you can hardly comprehend it. You tighten your grip on his hair and breathe out, “Matthew.”

“[y/n],” he breathes out and it sounds so helpless that you can only reply with a whimper. You increase your speed, your rhythm becomes sloppy but Matthew is rock solid. He cups your face in his hands and repeats, “[y/n].”

“O-oh, fuck. Oh…god…” you latch onto his wrists. You can’t take it anymore, “Mm…” and you come on his cock with a loud and visceral moan straight from the back of your throat. The way your pussy tightens around him has him matching your volume and the kiss you give him is so dirty that he will taste it for weeks.

He doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it until your body is all but convulsing. He only stops to prevent himself from coming inside of you, instead raising your hips to shoot his load all over his stomach. His knees tense up and tighten against you as the weakest groans escape his lips. You hum softly to yourself and you lower yourself down the mattress, licking the mess off his stomach as you make your way back to his lips. He’s stunned but rewards you with a kiss. He wishes the kiss could last forever. He tries his best to make it so.

But you crash on his chest, panting loudly and allowing your body to finally relax. Your head rises and falls with every heavy breath he takes.

“Let’s get married,” he huffs and you laugh, sitting up to look at him. “No?”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head.

“Ugh…worth a shot.”

It’s so peaceful. A calm after a storm - a hurricane. Until your phone illuminates the dark space and you reach over his body to check the text. It’s from Hattie -

As soon as youre both done, my husband and i would like to make our outro! :)

“Oh, shit!” you exclaim and that’s all Matthew needs to hear.

You both hop up at lightening speed. You somehow get dressed even quicker. You rush out of the tent, nearly tripping over your feet, hand in hand.

“Wait,” Matthew says and when you pause to look at him, he fixes the clip in your hair and then he gives you a kiss. You look back at him with a smile as you run back to the reception.

You catch Hattie and Cole just in time. They are already lined up and ready to go when you two reappear. Matthew grabs Cole’s shoulder and laments, “Sorry about that, dude. I-I got caught up. Sorry.”

“Oh yeah,” Cole smirks as he keeps walking. “I can tell. Your jacket’s on inside out.”

After Matthew remedies that, you two casually clap and cheer as the newlyweds walk through the crowd of excitement. They promptly load themselves up on a golf cart and you watch them disappear into the night.

Matthew sighs, turning to you, “So…I guess our jobs are done for the night.”

You sigh in return, shrugging, “I guess so.”

“You gonna be lonely in that tent tonight?”

“God...” you shake your head. “I hope not.”

And that night, you are far, far from lonely in that tent.

You wake up together. Matthew made himself fit in that bed once again. You get dressed together. You both clean up the tent and step out together. And once again, there’s Gina, catching you in the act. She doesn’t say anything. But when she walks past you two, the tiny smile on her face says it all.

Back at the reception site, Hattie and Cole serve a light breakfast and deliver a toast that is short and sweet. Blah blah blah, thank you all for coming. Blah blah blah, we love you so much. Blah blah blah, we have a plane to Cabo to catch. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!

They go around to say their goodbyes and while Cole is distracted, Hattie intentionally saves you for last. She gives you a long hug, “Missed you last night.”

“Yeah, uh…” you blush. “I am so sorry about that.”

“Oh no, don’t be,” she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. “It all went according to plan.”

“To-“ you stutter. “Hattie Jane Welsh…”

“Aht-aht!” she grins as she walks away from you to join her husband. She flashes her rings, “Hattie Jane Briggs. I already changed it on instagram and facebook!”

You jaw is dropped in absolute shock and you can’t pick it up. In fact, your mouth is still wide open when Matthew approaches you.

“So, pretty lady, what are you doing after this?” he asks.

“Got a train to catch back home.”

“Oh, a train? How far is the drive?”

“About an hour.”

“I have an hour…” he says. “And a rental car.”

A sweet smile spreads across your face. He mirrors it right back to you. You take hold of your suitcase, step over to him, stand straight up and wrap your hand around his bicep. You’ve had a lot of practice.

“Okay,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

In honor of the season, what are holidays like in the spirit world? Have they been infected by Christmas yet? I imagine they inherit some popular ones from the world of the living, but also the unique holidays of the afterlife must be wild.

You come to me, on the eve of the High Holiday of Halloween, and ask me about Christmas??

I'm kidding, you're asking about holidays in general but my unsuspecting Agnostic Ass just got jumpscared by Mariah Carey, and I'm sensitive. It's not the season. Not for another 48 hours at least. Do Not Violate The Sacred Treaty.

.

..

...

Anyway, this ended up in my drafts for a few days, so: Christianity has not really gotten a foothold in soul society, but via cultural osmosis "Xmas" has. Nobody in a Shinto afterlife believes in monotheism, but they love a holiday and a Saint is practically a Kami anyway, but.... It's "Xmas" because the holiday in no way remotely resembles Christmas as practiced in the living world.

---

Scene: 4th Division hospital, a few days after Rukia is rescued and Aizen departed for Las Noches:

"-CHAD!!" Ichigo bellows, almost falling in through the doorway of the hospital room, wheezing.

"I am very sure you are not supposed to be out of bed." Chad frowned, looking up from the copy of the history of soul society Captain Komamura had lent him to read while he recovered.

It was strange, to be in the care of the very people he had thought to be senseless killers not two weeks ago, but he was finding the Shinigami a generally agreeable lot. Even if the captain that controlled the hospital reminded him unpleasantly of a nun with her chaste dress, soft voice and understated but constant threat of violence.

"YOU NEED YO HEAR THIS-! He- hee-" Ichigo stumbled over to his bed and curled up on his side overcome with giggles.

"... I'm beginning to think I am incorrect." Sighed the pale-haired man at the door, frowning down at Ichigo.

"Jushiro Ukitake, I don't think I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance yet, Mr.-?" The man introduced himself and offered Chad a hand.

"Uh. Yasutora. Sado Yasutora. But everyone calls me Chad." He mumbled, cautiously shaking hands with the stranger. "You're um. You're Miss Rukia 's boss, right?"

"Yes! I believe you are her friend with the pet parakeet and good throwing arm, yes?" Ukitake beamed at him and Chad was suddenly struck by the idea that he'd seen Ukitake at a family reunion before - Impossible, obviously, but the man had the intense aura of a distant uncle. "Good show that, she loves being hurled at an opponent!"

"Oh. Thank you." Chad mumbled, Ichigo finally catching his breath. "...What are you incorrect about?"

"Christmas, apparently." Ukitake frowned, and Ichigo dissolved into snickering again. "He says you're something of an expert on the actual mythology, I only have third-hand accounts, you see-"

"No!" Gasped Ichigo, reaching over to tug at Mr. Ukitake's sleeve. "You gotta tell him!"

"I am Catholic, yes." Chad nodded. "-go on. It can't be less accurate than the version Dr. Kurosaki- Uh, Ichigo's dad- gave me last year."

"Yeah it can-" Ichigo wheezed.

"Well, ah- Christmas is a birthday celebration for an important religious figure, right?" Ukitake tried.

"Yep!" Chad nodded, giving Ukitake a thumbs up.

"The birth of Rudolph, the Star-nosed reindeer?" Ukitake tried.

Chad stared at him blankly for a moment, before his thumbs-up slowly wilted into a thumbs down and Ichigo vibrated silently with hysterics. Chad opened and closed his mouth a few times, hand waving, then covered his mouth, searching for words. Eventually he reached out and gently put his hand on the captain's shoulder to explain as delicately as possible-

"...No." Said Chad.

Ichigo rolled off the bed with a dull thud.

"-I am, however, fascinated." Chad elaborated. "Please continue."

"...I'm really sorry that I am this ignorant of your religious dogma." Ukitake winced.

"It's- don't worry about it. Tell me what you think happens on Rudolph's birthday." Chad said, sitting back and pressing his hands together.

"Well- oh, how does it start? Right- there's the Monks- Saints? that give out presents to well-behaved children during the winter holidays- Saint Claus, Saint Nicolas and Saint Kringle. And they're all very old men, and with good judgement about who does and does not deserve presents, so they're called the three wise men!"

Ichigo made a noise like a teakettle from the floor.

"Oh. Oh no." Chad giggled.

"And they travel the entire world giving out presents, but that's A Lot of houses and it was taking them longer and longer so they prayed to... I forget the name Catholics have for Amaterasu. Guadalupe?"

Chad made a noise not unlike a violently squeezing a rubber duck, and started to shake.

"-So they pray for some help getting all the presents to the children, and Whoever She Is says they're doing good deeds, but she wants to see if they're REALLY worthy of that kind of miracle, so she sends them on a journey to recover some lost holy treasures, and on the way each of the holy men wrestles with and tames a demon representing some vice or another-"

"-I. I think you've gotten the Star of Bethlehem mixed up with The Journey West." Chad realized, hands pressed together in front of his face.

"Yes that's right! She marks the direction they're supposed to be going with a bright star! So they go West, following the star! "-Ok the three wise men traveling from the east following a star part is, in fact, accurate. What's this about demons?"

"It's some sort of allegory about how all the Saints are virtues so the demons represent the vices people fall into around the holiday- Being punitive or penurious and ruining good things for others. They all had weird names-" Ukitake frowned.

"What's going on?" Captain Kyorauku asked, sticking his head in the door.

"You'll know!" Ukitake chirped with excitement. "-What are the three demons the saints conquer in the Christmas myth?"

"Krampus the Child-beater, Scrooge the Miser, and... Ah fuck I always mispronounce the last one. He's green and he sucks? The Goonch?" Shunsui frowned.

"THE GOONCH?" Ichigo shrieked from the floor.

"I. I think you mean The Grinch." Chad said, experiencing a brand new combination of horror, delight and fascination that felt like the emotional equivalent of a shrimp color.

"That's him! Oscar The Grinch!" Shunsui nodded. "Why, its only August? Also, what's Kurosaki doing on the floor?

"We are apparently very misninformed about the mythlogical origins of Christmas. This amuses Kurosaki to the point of hysterics." Ukitake explained, lightly nudging Ichigo aside with his foot and sitting on the foot of Chad's bed.

"Your version is so much better." Chad said, vibrating with excitement. "What are these treasures they're supposed to get?"

"Oh you had to ask- Shunsui love, you were the one that heard it all from Captain Kuchiki when he did his tour in the living world."

"Oh for fuckssake of course it's Byakuya-" Ichigo groaned from the floor, and Ukitake gently kicked him in the ribs to shush him.

"Uhhhh... Let's see-" Shunsui scratched at his beard."There's Eight Lost Treasures, they're all magical bells that give anyone who rings them supernatural abilities- there's the Bell of Speed, Bell of Grace, Bell of Balance, Bell of Cunning, Bell of... ah fuck. I always forget the two in the middle... -Oh! Bell of destination- not like fate, like, always being able to find your way to where you're going. Bell of Affection, Bell that gives power over wind and Bell that gives power over lighting!"

Chad blinked at him, then slowly crumpled into a ball.

"...Mr. Yasutora?" Ukitake asked, gently touching his shoulder.

"This is amazing. I love it. I'm going to die." he whimpered, voice high and tight as he struggled to breathe from laughing.

"We may have already lost Mr. Kurosaki." Shunsui muttered, poking Ichigo's shoulder with his toe. "Anyway, they conquer the demons, get all the magical bells and make it to the distant city, aand Amaterasu says 'Great job!" Ukitake continued, enthusiastic as they approached his favorite part. "-But she says 'Here's your final test: I'm going to give a special gift to one of these creatures, you tell me which is the most deserving of my favor.' and then she turns them loose in some kind of farm with talking animals. They're all good and noble animals that have done many brave deeds- dogs saved children from drowning, horse that ran across a battlefield to deliver a message that stopped a war and so on- eventually the saints find a brand new baby fawn with a bright red nose. Since it was born just that morning, it's never done anything of note, and the other animals don't really like it because it's red nose means its kind of sickly and it cant see well so they don't want to play with it."

"YES!" Chad cheered, making the connection.

"Oh, that part is right?" Ukitake perked up.

"Not even remotely, but it's amazing. They pick the fawn right?

"That's right! The saints tell Amaterasu that the Baby deer Rudolph is the one that deserves her blessing, because while all the animals here are noble and good, no good deed is better than another, and of all the animals, the sickly little deer is the one that really needs her help."

"Oh no." Ichigo whimpered from the floor. "That's actually like. genuinely heartwarming."

"Amaterasu applauds them, because they've made the right choice, and she gives the power of the star to the baby deer so it very literally glows like a headlight, and She turns the eight magical bells into a herd of deer that all have the powers the bells they were made from had, so Rudolph has a family and the three wise men have a team of nine magical deer to pull the flying sleigh she gives them, and then they are able to deliver all the presents to all the children of the world in one night, and they do it every year on Rudolph's birthday, because he was the first one to receive a proper Christmas present!" Ukitake finished, giving Chad an excitable two thumbs up.

Chad, slowly tipped forward, faintly hissing with silent laughter, then rolled off the bed to join Ichigo on the floor. Ukitake peered after him with concern, until chad slowly raised a weak, shaking hand up to give Ukitake a thumbs up back.

"-What I can't figure is how the bucket of fried chicken fits into all that?" Shunsui pondered, and the boys shrieked with laughter.

[gottaluvharry]

family

carlos sainz jr x pregnant!reader

summary: your son has a few questions about why his little sister is in your belly, and carlos is happy to explain

———————————

Lazy mornings with your little family were your favorite. You smiled to yourself as you woke to the hushed whispers of your husband and your son. As you turn to face the other side of the bed, you’re met with 2 pairs of brown puppy dog eyes and 2 identical smiles.

“Buenos dias, mama!” good morning mom your son screeched, proud of himself for using Spanish. “Buenos dias baby” you say through a smile. He latches on to your neck and you feel Carlos’ hand rubbing patterns on your stomach. “Morning hermosa” beautiful he says going in for a kiss. “How is little girl?” he asks. “Sleeping I think. She must be tired after all the kicking she did last night” you groan, recalling the many hours you were woken due to the relentless kicking in your stomach. “lo lamento, se amable con mami” i’m sorry, be nice to mommy he says leaning to talk to his unborn daughter. You just laugh and shake your head at the pout he has on his face, guiding him up by his chin to give him another kiss.

“Papa,” your little boy starts, breaking you and Carlos apart. “How did baby get in mommy’s belly?” he asks as he puts his hand over Carlos’ on your stomach. “Well hijo” son Carlos starts. “Me and mommy love each other, and we made your sister together because we love each other” he says, hoping it’s enough to settle your sons curiosity. “Like when you and mommy make pancakes together?” he asks, now moving to sit in his fathers lap. “No, not like when we make pancakes” he laughs. “He is just made out of love, baby. When 2 people love each other so much and want a little baby like you, they will make one. That’s all I can tell you” he says, avoiding a heavier subject. “But mommy, did it hurt when baby went in your tummy?” he now turns to you with fear in his eyes over the thought of you hurting. “No buddy it didn’t hurt” you assure him, ruffling his hair; but you don’t miss the smirk Carlos sends your way remembering the night in question. “So why does baby stay in mommy’s belly for so long?” he asks, now turning to look at Carlos for the answer. “That’s just where they grow buddy. Babies need lots of space to grow and the only place there is enough room is in a mommy’s tummy” he responds. “Oh” he hums, taking in all the information he’s learning. “But how does baby come out?” he goes on, his eyes lighting up when he gets another question. “When he is ready to come out me and Mommy will go to the hospital and the doctors will help her come out” Carlos answers. “But does it hurt?” your son asks, once again scared of you being hurt. “Only a little bit” you say, “but it is worth it because then we get to hold your little sister”.

As your son continues asking questions and Carlos continues tracing patterns across your stomach, you can’t help but smile at the little life you’ve created. Who knew one bed could hold so much love on a random morning.

—————————————

hope you guys enjoyed this short little blurb:) sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted, there was a lot going on and then i started school but in honor of Carlos’ birthday AND pole today i figured i’d post something!! might clear my drafts out and post some more in the next week or so<3

also my inbox is open, so request anything if you have any ideas! or if you just want to talk to someone, feel free!

okay last thing, thank you all for the support, it’s so special to me to have people with the same interests reading and liking my work, i want to give you all hugs<333

[thankskenpenders]

So! A few weeks ago, we reached an important milestone. On November 30th, 2024, this blog turned 10 years old. It's been quite the ride.

I wanted to do something to honor the occasion. While my lofty goal to get a huge video essay done for the anniversary didn't shake out, I hoped I'd at least be able to draw something, or write up a post reflecting on ten years of running this blog and all the wild Sonic stuff that's happened in that time. And then my life got stressful last month and I just... forgot. Oops! I feel bad about it, but what can you do.

Why not just do a belated anniversary celebration now that I've remembered? Well, as I explained over on my main, my boyfriend recently developed an infection and ended up in the hospital. He'll be okay, but he's currently scheduled to be there on a constant drip of antibiotics until the 20th at the very soonest, and quite possibly longer than that. We're really, really hoping he'll be out by Christmas/my birthday, but we can't be sure.

In other words, please don't expect me to have timely posts up about either Sonic 3 or IDW Sonic #75 (and the Phantom Riders arc as a whole, which I've been asked to talk about multiple times now). Those will happen whenever I'm able to think about things other than my boyfriend being in the hospital.

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[itsjustaninchident]

Baked with Love

Carlos Sainz x baker!reader

summary: where everyone is just obsessed with yn's pastries or where carlos is jealous because everybody seem to be obsessed of yn and her pastries.

warning/s: none

author's note: just a sudden burst of imagination. Anyway please let me know of what you think of it. It would be nice to hear some feedbacks! ❤️

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 764,084 others

yourusername baking a little something

view 452 comments...

carlossainz55 I don't think I can finish all of that, mi amor

yourusername who says they're for you?

user1 HELP

user2 NOT YN HUMBLING CARLOS DOWN

landonorris did u make some for me yn?

yourusername kids shouldn't consume too much sweets

user3 I LOVE YN OMG😭

user4 not yn humbling them both😭

user5 I LOVE YN SO MUCH SHE JUST BAKES AND PUT CARLOS IN HIS PLACE

user6 DOES CARLOS REALIZED HOW BAD OF A BITCH YN IS

user7 RIGHT? HE BETTER WIFE HER UP

liked by carlossainz55 and 234 others

user8 NOT HIM LIKING THE COMMENT

user9 he better get the hint

user10 he should because i will do my best to steal yn!

scuderiaferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, and 422, 054 others

scuderiaferrari what a way to start the race week in the ferrari hospitality! thank you for these delicious cookies yourusername! we might have to add these to the menu next race week!

view 2,320 comments...

user1 THAT LOOKS SO GOOD

user2 i might have to disguise myself as a ferrari staff to get my hands on those cookies

user3 count me in!

user4 gonna sneak in the ferrari hospitality for the cookies

yourusername you better not f up the strategy or no more cookies!

user5 she's so real for this

user6 i do believe the cookies will work like a charm

user7 she's just like us😭

redbullracing what do we have to do to get a taste of the cookies? 👀

yourusername maybe if you let carlossainz55 through I will consider

user8 I LOVE HER YOUR HONOR

user9 SHE'S SO😭

carlossainz55

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, and 893,434 others

carlossainz55 no better way to celebrate your birthday than your girlfriend baking your cake! I love you, mi amor. ❤️

tagged: yourusername

view 4,239 comments...

yourusername i love you too! you're stuck with me and my pastries 🥰

carlossainz55 wouldn't have it any other way❤️

user1 IM SO SINGLE

user2 ME WHEN

user3 suddenly i wanna be a bird on the race track and just be ran over

landonorris ew couple

carlossainz55 kids are not allowed here

user4 not lando being their honorary child

scuderiaferrari happy birthday to our smooth operator!

charlesleclerc happy birthday mate! You better leave some cake for us

landonorris he better be

danielricciardo yourusername please sneak some in the paddock next race

carlossainz55 this is for me only!

yourusername there's plenty enough for you all stop fighting like kids

user5 YN AND HER BAKED GOODS

user6 CAN YOU GIVE US SOME TOO YN

liked by yourusername and 23 others

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 694,903 others

yourusername it is definitely a challenge to bake a lot of cookies😅

view 3,345 comments...

carlossainz55 I'm so hurt that I don't get to keep it all

landonorris stop gatekeeping yn's cookies!

user1 oh to be carlos sainz, who literally tastes everything yn bakes before anyone else😭

user2 one day there will be a get together at carlos and yn's house for the drivers because of how good yn's baking is.

user8 I will be waiting for that

charlesleclerc I will enter the paddock early, last time everybody finished it and there's nothing left for me

lewishamilton roscoe thinks the cookies are good, can he please have some?

yourusername roscoe can have as much as he wants!

user3 NOT LEWIS USING HIS DOG TO GET SOME COOKIES

user4 sir there is a line!

user5 sir please go to the back we're all waiting here

lilymhe please give me some🥺

yourusername i will never forget to give you some bae❤️

carlossainz55 life is really unfair

user6 how is carlos surviving this? he literally has so much competitors for yn's pastries

user7 i mean can u blame them she's literally the sweetest girl ever🥺

carlossainz55

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, and 1,023,649 others

carlossainz55 you get to taste the baked goodies but I get to taste the baker😉

view 73,394 comments...

user1 HE'S HERE TO REMIND US OF OUR PLACE😭

user2 IM SO SINGLE

user3 i hate it here

user4 why can't single people be left in peace

landonorris get off my timeline

carlossainz55 get off instagram then

yourusername you can just tell me you want tiramisu no need to make a post 😉

user5 MOTHER

carlossainz55 you know me so well, my love

user6 YN SO REAL

user7 IS NO ONE GONNA TALK ABOUT THE CAPTION😭

user8 IN BROAD DAYLIGHT?

user9 not the smooth operator for nothing

please send me requests of any scenario with a driver ❤️ I'd love to make them on my free time.

[holdinbacksecrets]

your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way

thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things

seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time

tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars

seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing

jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”

joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind

jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”

soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier

wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams

jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well

seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep

mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions

minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?

hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”

seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one

chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”

[writingwithciara]

party games -chris sturniolo-

summary: y/n’s best friend decides to throw a party and when he needs a partner for beer pong, he chooses her. a girl who’s never played the game or had a drop of alcohol in her life. what could possibly go wrong?

word count: 3.7k

pairing: chris sturniolo x bestfriend!reader

notes & warnings: in honor of the triplet's 21st birthday!!! iwrote this before they were 21, but i guess now it doesn't really matter. hope you guys enjoy this bit of self indulgence 😊 w: intended smut; intoxication; drugs; language of course

masterlist

when chris had his 'frat boy' era, he didn't understand why the fans were obsessed or why they labelled him as such.

of course parties can be fun. especially with the right people. but there's no need to constantly be throwing a party every night.

sure he enjoys the occasional party but he doesn’t throw them every weekend like some people assume he does.

he prefers to spend most of his time with his brothers and his best friend, y/n.

he met her randomly at a mcdonald’s when he and his brothers moved to los angeles and he thought she was incredibly nice. she ended up showing them around town the next day and ever since then, whenever they were free, they would hang out together. most of those times it was just them. and chris preferred it that way sometimes.

they’ve been friends for 4 years and within that time frame, chris has never seen y/n drink a drop of alcohol or do any kind of drug. she didn’t even smoke weed and chris always saw her as the most innocent person he’d ever met.

so when he decided to give into his ‘frat boy’ persona & throw a party, he had to beg her to come to it. he had a backup plan prepared in case she said no.

she was sitting in matt’s room, discussing strategies for a game they were both into, when chris barged in to propose his deal.

“i’m throwing a party. i want you both to attend it.”

“chris, do you really-“

“before you say no, like you always do, i’ve prepared a deal that neither of you could refuse.”

“okay. and what’s that?” matt sat up straight and stared expectantly at his brother. y/n mirrored his position.

“yeah. tell us this deal please.”

“it’s different for each of you.” chris smiled and turned to matt. “if you come to the party, i will take my driving test and as a bonus, i will not ask you to drive me anywhere for a month.”

“okay. what’s in it for y/n?”

“remember that really expensive taylor swift concert package you wanted?”

“of course. what about it?”

“i may or may not have bought it for you and i may or may not have planned to give it to you for your birthday.”

“did you?”

“if you come to the party, i’ll let you know.” he sighed. “please? you’re the most important person that needs to be there.”

“hey, i’m sitting right here.”

“you’re lucky i love you, chris.” y/n walked over to him. “whens the party?”

“4 hours from now. and don’t worry. you can get ready in my room. already got an outfit picked out for you.”

“you really put some thought into this, didn’t you?”

“i did. so, are you guys gonna come to the party?”

“for you, i’d do anything.” y/n smiled and walked out to the kitchen. chris watched her leave and matt chuckled.

“you’re lucky she loves you.” he smiled. “you should just tell her you love her too.”

“oh please. we’re as platonic as two people can get. she friend zoned me the first week of our friendship and i’ve never wanted to change it.”

“well i’m sensing a but coming in soon.”

“but" he dragged the word out and sighed. "these last 2 months have made me realize that she’s perfect for me, matt. she’s the right amount of innocent without being too innocent. and she’s funny and she gets along with nick. do you know how hard that is for people to do?”

“you’re right. it is difficult. but she’s a good person. you guys are so opposite.”

“yeah but that’s what makes us perfect.” chris smiled. “wait, hold on. did you just imply i’m not a good person?”

out in the kitchen, y/n was preparing a snack when nick entered the room.

“hey. did chris ask you to come to the party?”

“yeah he did.” y/n put the chips away and took the dip from the fridge. “do you know if he actually got the concert package or not?”

“i’m pretty sure he did. but you didn’t hear it from me.” nick popped a chip in his mouth and walked away. chris came out of matt’s room a second later and smiled when he saw y/n in the kitchen.

“hey. you can shower first if you want.”

“okay. i just want to finish my chips first.” y/n grabbed the last few chips and shoved them in her mouth. “okay. see you in 2 hours."

"2 hours?"

"yeah. i need that much time to make myself look good enough to be seen with you guys tonight."

"you could attend the party in ripped sweatpants and a baggy sweater and you'd still look better than anyone attending."

"awe, christopher. that was sweet." y/n smiled. "but i'm still gonna get all dressed up because when do i ever get the chance to do that?"

"fair point." he chuckled.

"thanks again for the invite." she kissed his cheek and ran down to his room to get ready.

by 9 o'clock, the party was in full swing. most people were already well into their 3rd or 4th drink at this point.

chris, however, had decided to pre-game after his shower and was already on his 6 drink. they were mostly shots but with someone like chris, it was easy to get drunk.

he was surrounded by a group of gorgeous girls. and it just so happened that he abandoned those girls when he saw y/n. she was holding a cup in her hand and looking around the room. she was alone so chris walked up to her.

"is there alcohol in that cup?"

"of course not." she sipped it slowly. "matt gave me some of his root beer. and don't worry. i watched him pour it and i haven't taken my eyes off the cup since."

"well that's good to know."

"so what just happened?"

"huh?"

"one second, you're surrounded by every girl at this party that anyone would categorize as 'your type' and the next, you're over here with me. what makes me so special?"

"i'd tell you, but then i'm afraid i would have to kill you." he put his finger to his lips and looked around. "hey, let's go play some beer pong."

"i don't drink, chris. you know that."

"then be my partner. i know you have really good aim and i could use someone like you as my partner." he pleaded. "i'll drink everything. i promise."

"i can't say no to you, can i?"

"no you can not." he smirked triumphantly and grabbed her hand. they hurried over to the table where someone was setting up the next round. "y/n and i call next round."

"are you sure about that, chrissy? i've never seen her even sip a single drop of alcohol. maybe i could be your partner." one of the girls from earlier batted her eyelashes at him seductively but he paid her no mind.

"alright. let's do this." chris eyed the cups and pointed to the one he wanted y/n to aim for. "let's get the hardest one out of the way first, hmm?" he whispered in her ear and she tossed the tiny ball. it spun around the rim of the cup before landing inside. "yes! i knew you could do it."

"thanks for having some faith in me, chris." she smiled up at him as the guy on the other end of the table downed the alcohol.

"let's see you go 2 for 2." he wiped his lips and y/n picked up another ball. she was about to aim for the front cup but chris leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"back corner cup. you can do this."

she didn't know why but the way his words came out of his mouth, did something to her. she watched as the ball bounced past the cup and sighed. "sorry, chris."

"it's okay. you're still doing great." he kissed the top of her head as the game continued.

they conquered the rest of the game and they were setting up for another round when y/n looked at chris.

"i think i want to try drinking."

"are you positive?"

"100%. it's not like i'm driving home tonight anyway. besides, i'm here with you so i'm the safest i could ever be."

"i won't let anything bad happen to you."

"i know." she smiled up at him with her innocent smile and he knew he needed to protect her at all costs.

they ended up losing game 2 but they wanted to participate in another one. at this point, y/n had downed 6 of the 10 cups so to say she was tipsy would be a bit of an understatement.

halfway through game 3, chris had to cut her off. he had been sobering up while she was drinking and the sight before him was ridiculous, but also funny.

chris intentionally lost the game and finished off the last cup. he grabbed y/n's hand and brought her down to his room.

"ooh, christopher. if you wanted me in your bed, you could've just asked." she giggled when the door was closed.

"i'm gonna get you some water. can you get changed for me?" chris looked at her and smiled when she nodded slowly. He went into his bathroom and grabbed a cup, filling it with water before venturing back to his room. y/n was in the middle of taking her shirt off when he entered the room. her movements became slow and it felt like she was putting on a show for him.

"like what you see, chrissy?"

"no." he swallowed hard. he in fact did like what he saw but she was drunk and it would be wrong to admit it. so he just looked back at her. "you need to get changed into something comfortable to sleep in, y/n/n."

"you're no fun." she pouted and continued to pull the shirt over her head. it somehow got stuck and she turned towards where she assumed chris was. "help, please?"

chris shook his head and approached her. he grabbed the piece of fabric carefully and pulled it over her head, replacing it with one of his new fresh love shirts. her jeans were a little easier to slide down her legs and chris replaced them with some of his old shorts.

"thank you, chris. you're the best." she mumbled as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. just as she was getting comfortable, her face twisted in disgust and she leaned over the edge of the bed. chris grabbed the garbage bin and held it underneath her while she emptied the contents of her stomach into it. he sat next to her and rubbed her back gently while holding her hair back. when she was finished, chris handed her a towel to wipe her lips and he used a damp one to wipe the sweat off her face.

"feeling better?"

"no. i feel like shit." she grumbled and moved to lay on her back. chris still sat on the edge of the bed, but this time, he had to turn his head a little to talk to her.

"i never should've let you drink." he sighed, adding a little chuckle at the end when y/n dramatically threw her arm over her face.

"yeah. what were you thinking, christopher?"

"i would've stopped you but your mind was set on it. and i'd like to think i know you well enough at this point to understand that when you're dead set on something, nothing can change your mind."

"i guess that's true." y/n sighed and closed her eyes. "thank you for being such a good friend, chris. i don't deserve you."

"more like i don't deserve you." chris chuckled and looked back at y/n to see her chest rising and falling slowly, signaling she was a brief moment away from falling asleep. "get some rest, princess. i'll see you in the morning." he moved her hair out of her face and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before slowly walking out of the room & rejoining the party.

matt eyed his brother as he walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "what? no more drinking?"

"oh, this is for y/n when she wakes up." chris smiled and passed the bottle between his hands casually. "i can't believe i let her drink so much."

"she's an adult, chris. she can make her own choices. you don't have to feel guilty for what happened or obligated to keep her from making mistakes."

"i know. but she's my best friend and i made myself a promise that i would never let anything bad happen to her."

"and so far, nothing bad has happened. you're doing a great job."

"thanks, matt. i really needed that reassurance." chris smiled again. "i hope you don't mind but i'm done with the party for the night. duty calls, you know."

"yeah. i get it. you've gotta take care of her. go on."

"i appreciate you." chris hugged his brother before heading back down to his room. y/n was tossing around on the bed as if she was having some sort of nightmare.

chris approached her and noticed her face was covered in sweat so he grabbed the wet cloth and ran it along her face. her movements slowed and her breathing went back to normal, satisfying chris. he placed the bottle on his nightstand and crawled into bed next to her. when y/n's arm landed on his chest, he stiffened up a bit but when he heard light snores coming from her, he just smiled to himself.

he was glad she felt safe around him but he knew he needed to tell her how he felt before it was too late.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

the morning came faster than chris had wanted. he couldn't get any sleep with y/n beside him. she spent a few hours just throwing up in the garbage and chris was there to take care of her each time. he wiped her face with a damp cloth and got her water when she needed it.

when her eyes fluttered open and she made eye contact with chris, she couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face.

"good morning." she whispered.

"good morning." chris smiled and moved the hair that was stuck to her forehead. "how are you feeling?"

"better than i was last night, but still shitty." she closed her eyes. "i'm sorry you had to take care of me all night instead of enjoying your own party. i feel bad you missed most of it."

"hey, don't feel bad. i will always take care of you, no matter what."

"but, your party-"

"it wasn't that important. not nearly as important to me as you are."

"do you....do you mean that?"

"of course." he smiled and played with her fingers.

"you know, even after 4 years, i will never understand why i'm so important to you." she replied shyly, avoiding eye contact with her best friend. "i mean, i'm nothing special."

"hey," he grabbed her chin gently and looked into her eyes. "you are incredibly special. don't sell yourself short, ma."

"t-thanks, chris." she looked into his eyes and before she knew it, she was leaning closer. just as their lips were about to touch, y/n ducked her head to the side and threw up in the garbage bin. chris held her hair back for her while she continued to empty her stomach. when she was finished, she wiped her mouth with the back if her hand. "oh my god. i'm so sorry, chris."

"it's alright. you don't have to apologize to me, ever." he smiled and wiped the sweat from her face again. "especially for something as normal as that."

"you're sweet, christopher." she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. chris rubbed her shoulder and kissed her head. "how are you still single?"

he felt like saying "because i only want to be with you" but he kept his mouth shut. he didn't need to lose his best friend. he could've risked it but he didn't want to say anything until he knew how she felt. and he couldn't ask her in her current state. so he would just have to wait until she was better, no matter how long it took.

when he was sure y/n was fast asleep again, he gently moved her off his body and got out of bed. he went up to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for his brothers and y/n, since he knew they'd all have a hangover of some sort.

matt was the first one awake and when he entered the kitchen and saw chris cooking, he didn't even question it.

"good morning." chris greeted him happily.

"could you lower your voice a little, please?" matt rubbed his head slowly while he sat at the table. chris poured him a glass of water and set it down gently. "thank you."

"matt, can i tell you something?"

"yeah, of course." he sipped his water slowly.

"i almost kissed y/n earlier."

"oh my god. really? what happened?"

"our lips were like 2 inches from touching and then she ended up throwing up. but i may have messed our friendship up by almost kissing her."

"why do you say that?"

"it just feels like it. i don't know."

"look, you need to talk to her and tell her how you feel. the worst she can say is that she doesn't feel the same. but i doubt that outcome will happen because i guarantee that she has feelings for you."

"well, i won't be sure until i talk to her. and i plan on doing it after breakfast." chris heard his bedroom door shut and he finished plating the food. he set everyone's plates on the table just as nick and y/n came into the kitchen. "good morning."

"good morning." y/n sat at the table and looked at her plate. "this all looks delicious, chris. thank you."

"you're welcome." he sat across from her and everyone began eating.

breakfast was mostly silent, aside from the forks hitting the plates and the cups being set down on the table.

when everyone was done eating, chris went to clear the table by himself but y/n stopped him.

"let me help. it's the least i can do since you made breakfast and all." y/n smiled and carried half the dishes to the kitchen. she set them down in the sink and ran the water. "breakfast was delicious, chris. thanks again."

"no problem. figured you'd need some solid food in your system. hopefully you can keep it down."

"i'm sure i will." she smiled. "after all, i had a really good caretaker this morning."

"speaking of this morning, can we talk? you know, about the thing that almost happened?"

"yeah. um, sure. when do you want to talk about it?"

as y/n and chris talked in the kitchen, matt glanced over at them occasionally. nick noticed and raised his eyebrow.

"you good over there, bro?"

"yeah. i just really hope chris and y/n finally admit how they feel about each other. been rooting for them ever since that night we met her at mcdonald's." matt glanced back over towards the kitchen and noticed they were gone. "wow. they move fast."

"not fast enough." nick chuckled as he averted his attention back to the tv.

down in chris' bedroom, he was sitting on the edge of his bed with y/n beside him. she began to fidget with her fingers and chris instinctively reached over and held her hands gently.

"you know, you've been my best friend and favorite person for 4 years. and ever since the night we met at mcdonald's, i've been trying to figure out how you've had the patience to put up with me for so long. you are so incredible and an absolute angel, y/n. and i admire you so much. you have no idea how much you mean to me and i don't think there's enough time in the world for me to express just how strongly i feel about you." chris looked over at her and gently cupped her cheek. "you are so perfect."

"christopher owen sturniolo, you are unmatched. and i love you. so much more than you can ever imagine."

"if you hadn't gotten sick this morning, would you have followed through with the kiss?"

"absolutely." y/n smiled. "would you have followed through?"

"yes definitely. and even though you got sick, i still would've kissed you after."

"barf breath and everything?"

"i'd kiss you under any circumstance, y/n. i love you."

"i love you too." y/n smiled and ran her hand through his hair, bringing his lips down to hers. she smiled into the kiss and chris held her close.

"i'm going to take you on a proper date tomorrow night." chris smiled widely. "Wait, hold on. i actually have something you might prefer."

"something else i'd prefer over a date with you? i doubt it."

"oh but this is better. trust me." chris got up and walked to his closet. he pulled out a medium sized gift box and handed it to her. "i wanted to give this to you on your birthday but since it's this weekend, i think now's a better time to give it to you."

y/n opened the box and pulled out the special taylor swift vip concert package chris put together for her.

"chris, you didn't."

"oh but i did. a week from today, you'll be going to the taylor swift show in la and you'll be watching it from the front row. during the show, there's a surprise. then after the show, you'll be going backstage to meet her and spend some time with her."

"i love you so much, chris. you didn't have to do this." y/n had tears in her eyes and chris wiped them away.

"if anyone deserves this, it's you."

"i truly don't deserve you, christopher." she rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "i'm so glad we met at mcdonald's that night."

"me too." chris smiled and kissed her softly.

they finally got what they both wanted and they couldn't be happier. and without mcdonald's & beer pong, they wouldn't be where they are now.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Intercity Relations (An Arcane one-shot)

Description: Spending years studying Interstate relations at Piltover's academy, you made both allies and rivals during your studies. Unlucky for you, Cassandra Kiramman hated your guts ever since you first met. The woman ensured you'd never see Ixtal or Shumira but rather serve as an intercity negotiator between Zaun and Piltover.

Pairing: Vander x afab!reader, NSFW, the reader being born and raised in Piltover™ (so expect some cultural differences, mostly Vander teasing the reader very lovingly). Warnings: I did my best to go over all the typos, but some certainly made it through. The entire 'plot' just for the sake of convenience, age difference (reader being around 25, Vander should be pushing 40 - the math doesn't add up, fuck it), should be set one year after Vander became a dad™, so we aren't in any rush, vile language, mentions of violence and substance abuse. Also, unprotected sex - don't be silly, wrap your willy! The smut is very gentle tho, very loving and fluffy. Jayce and Ezreal being supportive golden retriever besties™. Subtle Jayce and Viktor shenanigans (will miss if you squint your eyes). A/N: I wanted to write something for Vander for so so so long, but never got the inspiration. Three years after the release of Arcane, I finally made my long-lasting dream come true. It's also my first smut after a long time, so I hope you won't find it clunky and lame. Enjoy reading! Music inspo: Mainly by Seven (Jung Kook), Love Again (stolen from Ezreal's playlist, performed by Baekhyun), Moonlight by Kali Uchis & The Weekend by BIBI & 88rising. Word count: 21K (and I fucking ooop-) Music playlist: ezreal's bedroom bangers

The politics and schemes of Piltover's creme of society never ceased to surprise you. That position should've been yours. Heimerdinger more or less confirmed it a week ago - you should've been the negotiator between Shurima and Piltover regarding business and foreseeable Noxian invasion. The Yordle quite literally said you were the 'best suited' for such negotiations, that he'd realized it soon after you started your studies. From the get-go, it was supposed to be you who'd end up with this position. Truth be told, however, the council members despised you for all they got. You weren't some high-class Nancy who'd flatter them with expensive gifts and false compliments - but you were fucking good at negotiating. You were the best of your class. It wasn't Kacey who could barely tie her own shoelaces or God forbid Damien, who had trouble remembering even the most basic negotiation principles. It was you.

Studying at the Academy was an honor, you were aware of that. Your family poured everything into securing your spot there, which you were endlessly grateful for. The Academy gave you a better chance at life than you'd otherwise get. Being a middle-class Piltoverian wasn't as bad, per se, but it wasn't a win either. Anyone in your family knew what poverty or starvation was, had money for medicine and nice clothes, quality food, and your flat just outside downtown wasn't bad either, but you didn't plan on taking after your mother's hat shop. Making hats wasn't a bad hobby, both you and your brother enjoyed creating new designs and spending time with momma, but it didn't fulfill you.

It could be around your 10th birthday when you announced you'd like to be a diplomat one day. Your mom and older brother scoffed at it - no way a small child would aim to be a diplomat, right? Most kids wanted to be princesses or singers, they didn't want to deal with interstate relations. But... The phase never went away. It was clear as day that you weren't aiming for anything else as your fifteenth birthday rolled around - you kept up good grades, went to debate classes, and traveled to Holdrum and Kumangra to take part in various debate competitions; you didn't win all of them, but your arguments always left the jurors in awe. When you were leaving high school, it was recommended for you to apply for the Academy's scholarship.

At that moment your mom finally cracked and said 'Fine, let's give it a shot'. The tender was as enjoyable as could be, there were other excellent kids after your spot at the Academy, after all. It took numerous tryouts and evaluations - the Academy first accounted for your past academic achievements, then came assessment interviews, then various intelligence tests, ending it all with a few rounds of debates. Some of those were nearly nerve-crushing. When you were informed of getting the scholarship, you were also informed about all the strict rules you'd have to obey - starting with a strict dress code, frequent one-on-one evaluations with the dean of your faculty, and ending with oddly specific dorm and library rules.

During the matriculation, you'd meet your best friend for the few following years - he came fashionably late (presumably sleeping in), barging into the dead-silent hall with his clothes hastily put on, his hair a fucking mess. As the boy stood on the stairway (looking like a deer in the headlights), the rector stuttered, watching the latecomer with matching intensity. Leaning over to the boy, you'd grab his sleeve and force him to sit next to you. Honestly, you liked Jayce ever since you first laid your eyes on him. If there was a definition of conventionally attractive, Jayce was it - hazel colored eyes, a bright smile full of straight teeth, clean-shaven face, a perfect haircut that was taken care of (gell and everything), and built like a fucking mountain with his 6'7 in height, as you'd learn later. His facial features were very pleasurable to look at. As you said - Jayce was the 'it'.

"I really thought this ceremony starts at 10 a.m... Two weeks from now." - The man mumbled to you, putting his bag down next to his seat. As he leaned closer to you over, the smell of some nice and surely very expensive cologne tingled in your nose. "They changed it last week on a whim, probably to avoid the matriculation overlapping with Progress Day. Wouldn't know about it if I wasn't moved into dorm already." "Makes enough sense. Did I miss something important?" "Something something, the great future, Piltover, something something, you are our new hope. Something along these lines." - You repeated, chuckling at yourself. Your brother always told you you were fucking horrendous at making friends, but the latecomer seemed to appreciate your sense of humor. Smirking at you, he licked his lips and offered you his palm under the table.

"Name's Jayce Talis." - The guy whispered, feeling as your palm slipped into his. His skin was nicely warm and so soft. A rich Piltie, you assumed. - "What's yours?" "Y/N Y/L/N." - Whispering back, you shook hands, still grinning at one another. - "Hi." "Oh, doesn't your family run a hat shop or something? Mrs. Kiramman loves that place to death, had to endure a fashion show of her and her daughter's hats tailored according to the latest fashion trends in Ixtal." - Jayce wondered, clearly memorizing the lane by heart.

"Yeah, I helped make these. My mom runs it. I was supposed to take over the shop when she'd feel like she couldn't do it anymore." - You explained swiftly, completely forgetting why you two were sitting in the hall. - "You know councilor Kiramman? The Cassandra Kiramman?" "Mhm." - The Jayce guy nodded, showing you dimples in his cheeks. He was getting hotter by the second. - "Also know the dean." "The dean?" - You squirmed, shooting him an amazed look. - "Are you like a child of some super-important politician?" "No. I just know how to make good childhood friends." "Geez. I had to fight for a way in." "My mom had been dead set on my future since day one. Surely, if Cait was a few years older, they'd even arrange our marriage." - Jayce scoffed, turning his eyes to the dean, a Yordle named Heimerdinger. - "How did you fight your way in? Gladiator style, cage match, blood, sand, and everything?" - He muttered, making you snicker as you pretended to listen to the speech. The matriculation had almost two hours of runtime, so you still had an hour and a half ahead of you.

"More of a streetfight style - who'd beat up the most kids to pulp won the scholarship." "Sounds way more exciting than just getting in because you have a rich friend." "I don't think that's the case." - With a smile, you bumped his rib with your elbow. - "Councilor Heimerdinger doesn't seem to be the type to just let anyone study here. We're Piltover's future, aren't you listening to his words? There's gotta something in that noggin' of yours." "I don't think you'd be the type to beat kids into pulps either. Actually, you look like someone I'd love to be friends with. Truthfully, I don't know anyone else inside the Academy, which terrifies me. I'm not a rich kid and I'm not good at talking to these rich assholes." "Didn't you say you're tight with the Kirammans?" "Caitlyn is anything but a rich asshole. She runs her mouth faster than her brain, bless her soul. Sometimes, she blows Mrs. Kiramman out of the water, leaving me speechless. If I were to talk to her mother like this, my mom would lock me up in a cellar until I'd apologize." "Your mom isn't like..." "No." - Jayce ended the discussion categorically. Since he didn't seem to like the topic, you hummed and nodded. "For your information, I think I'd be able to beat up that kid." - Pointing at a veiny, super-skinny ginger with glasses sitting two rows in front of you. - "... But I'm keener on logic and words, you got me there. Nonetheless, I'll take your words as a compliment, Talis. I'd like to... Be friends, I mean." "Lunch after?" - Jayce asked simply, pulling out a paper and a pen on his desk. First, you were concerned; was he about to take notes? Surely not, right? Then, he looked over at you with one of the most devilish grins you'd seen until that day. - "And tick-tack-toe now?" "God, you're already my best friend, Talis." - Without hesitation, you started to draw the playing board, sticking your tongue out of your mouth due to sheer concentration.

As promised, the two of you would set out to have lunch after the assembly, talking about everything and nothing. Talis was a great company - charming, funny, witty, and handsome. What he saw in you? No idea, but the two of you clicked right away. Even after years, you couldn't decipher what Jayce saw in you. The field of your research and studies were as different as could be, so you usually didn't dwell too much on such topics. Of course, you asked 'How are the studies going?' but it was never the centerpiece of your conversation. While you dealt with human relations, Jayce was a scientist, working with some miraculous blue stone (no idea what that was about). It only took a week to realize you'd found the best friend for the few following years. On the very second day, Talis showed you around his workshop, designating it as your hangout spot outside the faculty - it was a small maisonette with an enormous balcony and a very tiny bathroom. The upper floor was holding a bed and a couch. Since it also had a small fridge, you could just buy some beers and snacks for late-night study sessions and screw the dorm.

This friendship seemed fishy. People like Jayce Talis (attractive, genius, and charming) usually didn't seek company with the likes of you. Piltover was just a rat race, people climbing on the social ladders, striving for a better life. Jayce, on the other hand, didn't seem to be that guy. It seemed like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck. Also, Caitlyn Kiramman liked you, ensuring she'd like you even if you'd crawl out of the deepest part of the Undercity. Just as Jayce informed you, Cait's mouth ran much faster than her brain. You found this part of Kiramman endearing. Even though Talis sent you nothing but good vibes to you, it was hard to just accept this pure form of friendship. It took him around a week and a half to truly convince you he isn't hanging out with you for some insane, out-of-this-world reason. The guy simply liked being around you. That was also the first time Jayce sang and danced around you while studying in his condo - he was an awful singer.

Keeping the promise, you'd gather early the following Monday, ready to celebrate Progress Day. The festival was kicked off with yet another of Heimer's speeches (of which you and Talis appropriately made fun; nothing mean, just stupid jokes here and there). The rest of the day was in your hands - and dear God, you had a lot to wander through. Various attractions from all around the world, newest inventions, doubtful souvenirs, and snack stands... You simply loved the Progress Day. As you absentmindedly licked on your ice-creams, a boy stopped you. Neither of you could know that this particular man will soon be the last member of your party.

While also being very good-looking, the boy couldn't be more different from Jayce. He was around your age and based on his uniform, he was too a student at the Academy. His blonde hair was stylized perfectly, his blue eyes were piercing, you'd swear you hadn't seen clearer skin before and his facial features resembled those of a sculpture or a painting. He'd been considerably shorter than Jayce, but equally as handsome... Also, he was visibly distressed.

"Uh, hi you two. Hi. How you doin'?." - The boy greeted you, shaking your hand loosely as he fidgeted around, looking over his shoulders. You were pretty positive the stranger didn't even look you in the face before gripping your hand. "Hi?" - You asked, furrowing at him. He'd been shaking your hand for over a minute, still searching for something in the crowd... Or someone. - "Do you need something?" "I'm in a bit of trouble. Hi." - The boy jumped over to shake Jayce's hand frantically. - "Could you help me? It won't take long." "What can we do for you?" - Jayce asked. You've been both grinning by that point. The boy's behavior was funny. "I'm trying to run away from my blind date. She's been going on a tangent about how we 'belong together even in the heavens' and that I must be the guy her 'oracle saw in the tarot cards'."

"That sounds scary." - Jayce admitted, carefully twisting his palm from the stranger's grasp. The blonde boy, however, didn't seem to notice as he still looked around for his blind date. - "What do you say, Y/N? I'd be pretty scared if you pulled out a stunt like that." "I was just about to get to what my oracle said about you, Talis, but I mean... It sounds like the start of a horror story. I'm down to whatever." "Geez, you guys are the best and I mean that. My name's Ezreal, by the way."

When Ez piped down a bit and wasn't searching for the mysterious oracle girl, he was good company. As you walked through the main square and adjacent streets, he explained that he was studying history at the Academy and that you were in the same year. His parents were archeologists who traveled all over Runeterra so he was often left in Piltover under the care of his uncle, famous professor Lymere. That's how Ezreal got into the Academy anyway - quoting Ezreal, 'it definitely wasn't his intellectual prowess'. The guy was in awe when Jayce also invited Ezreal to his convo to share some beers while waiting for the fireworks to go off. Even though he seemed to be a social butterfly, Ezreal admitted people didn't stick around for long, often calling him 'annoying' or 'difficult to be around'; Jayce's invitation genuinely moved him. That's how you met your two best friends in the whole wide world.

The three of you were so different that you completed each other. You've been the most grounded in reality - studying political situations and people gave you a good insight into the world around you. If the two boys felt like arguing with someone, you were their person - you could go on for hours, debating like your life depended on it, beating them with facts grounded in reality.

Ezreal, on the other hand, was the dreamer and romantic. Boy, oh boy, his romantic endeavors were something - each week, you'd have to commiserate and listen to him obsessing over a different girl. You and Jayce would be the first to know all the details about his latest miserable breakup and future plans. He'd been prone to dramatize and exaggerate. Also, while being street-smart and intelligent (to a degree), Ezreal could come across as very naive and innocent. It was fun watching him not having a clue about his romantic interest's innuendos or hints, ignoring it all like the sweet summer child he was. You'd seen a lot of his romantic failures, if you had to be honest - the boy often invited you and Jayce for hangouts with his newest discovery (secretly hoping to set you up), and at times, you had to do your best not to start hysterically laughing right into his face. You loved Ezreal.

Jayce was the scientist of your group - he'd constantly lived in the world of wonder, progress, and inventions, constantly building towards a better future. His grind never stopped for anything. You and Ezreal would listen to his drunken rambles about how he'll change the world one day - you liked to believe Jayce. His dreams sounded nice. Despite Ezreal's best hopes, the two of you never hit it off - there was never a spark of romantic interest between you. Jayce often joked he didn't have time for romance, but if he would, he'd definitely ask you out - at that, you'd laugh and say 'Stop keeping your damn hopes up, this ain't happening, Talis'. Anytime you'd bump into something you didn't understand or felt emotionally vulnerable and wanted to share with someone, Jayce became your go-to person. His condo became the party's designed hangout spot, so you'd spend most of your Academy days there, watching over Piltover with dumb smiles.

All and all, you couldn't ask for better friends.

It was also this duo that expected your acceptance letter with batted breath alongside you. As usual, you'd barge into his condo. The two were talking before Ezreal raised his eyes to you frantically waving the letter around. Before you barged in, Ezreal was leaning over Jayce's shoulder (talking about Rachel... Again) and watched as the scientist connected wires in his latest contraption.

You and Jayce graduated earlier this summer, actually. Jayce, as you expected, finished his studies with a red diploma. You'd expect him to move out of Piltover, and work on his tech in collaboration with scientists from the other states - to your surprise, the man chose to work under the science faculty of the Academy. Ezreal, on the other hand, had to retake two classes - maths and geography of Runeterra... Despite all odds, this was a major success in your books. He'd been expecting to retake at least four. "It's here, bozos." - You announced, demanding their full attention. Ezreal straightened up, walking closer to you - Jayce just turned around in his chair and waited for you to start reading. "I'm sure it's Shurima. Like, 100% positive. Heimer talked about you enthusiastically last week, Y/N. I've heard it all." - Coach Ezreal mumbled supportively while walking behind you to massage your shoulders. As he patted your shoulder, you nodded at his words and let out a huge sigh before tearing the envelope outside. You had to be the next Piltoverian diplomat. It had to be you. It was always supposed to be you.

"Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N." - The letter started. - "It is a pleasure to welcome you on board our organization as the newest foreign service specialist. That's a good sign, no?" - You took a breath in, looking at both the boys; your fingers were trembling, breath shallow. "Jesus, don't stop in the middle of the letter!" - Ez exclaimed with a furrow. "Just go on." - Jayce mumbled, hanging on your lips. "Due to exceeding the number of current foreign specialists in the field, we are pleased to announce your new position as the official negotiator between the two states of Piltover and Zaun... Your accommodation in the state of Zaun will be... In case of unclarities, please contact..." - The blood in your veins froze as you read more and more. - "... Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Oh no..." - Ezreal sighed softly, his expression sagging as he watched tears forming in your eyes. You could barely breathe, your fingers shaking, your heart beating rapidly. You've never felt more betrayed in your life - this should've been your fucking moment to spread your wings and leave Piltover. You were supposed to explore the world just like you and Ezreal dreamed. You've been supposed to take part in negotiations between nations and... - "It's okay." "It's not okay!" - Both the boys' hearts broke upon seeing you break down, squealing at the top of your lungs. - "I've worked so fucking hard and everything..." - Jayce offered you an empty bottle so you could break it by throwing it on the ground, letting the anger out. It was better to clean up some mess than see you in ruins. - "... And that bitch, that old foul hag, that fucking snake!" - (Another bottle) - "I've always known she wouldn't fucking let me go. The moment I met her during my evaluations, I knew she hated me." - (Another bottle) - "To her bad fucking luck, Heimerdinger liked me, so she couldn't just get rid of me." - Your hand stretched out for another bottle, but Jayce stopped you. "I don't think she dislikes you..." - Talis approached you from behind, carefully massaging your shoulder. - "I just think something's going on in Zaun. The council would have someone who lived here their whole life and can trust as their diplomat, rather than someone who's not oriented in the problems and dynamics."

"Hey, I gotta repeat that geography class just because I looked at the professor funny. No one even wants to employ me." - Ezreal spoke slowly and softly, smiling at you. Grinning at his statement, you started to dry out your tears. "You gotta repeat it because the professor found out you're fooling around with his daughter." "Ehh... Maybe, but that's not the point." - Ezreal giggled, smoothing your shoulder. - "Listen, Y/N, you're the smartest and prettiest girl I know. You're able to inspire people, talk them through everything, and argue for hours when it comes down to it. And... The Undercity's not that bad, really. I know a few dudes selling fun stuff. I can introduce you to some of them to get you started?" "Ezreal..." - It was a high-pitched whine as you hugged him, letting out a long breath. His words made you emotional, moving you until you felt a fuzzy warmth spreading inside your chest.

"But... If I'm the prettiest girl you know, why didn't you ask me out yet?" - You joked, giggling. Being transferred to the Undercity wasn't all bad. It had its advantages - you'd stay close to your family and best friends. You didn't have to hope you'd bump into each other once a year, you could see them anytime you wanted. You'd be on hand in case your ma or bro needed help with the hat shop. You didn't have to leave your old life behind. "Because I respect you too much to let you fool around with someone like me." - The blonde sighed, hugging you back. Jayce was already on cleaning duty, brewing you all a cup of hot cocoa. It was exactly what you needed, in his expert opinion. As usual, Jayce was right. "... It's because you know I'd see right through your bullshit, right?" "... Yeah, you got me there, girl."

Two weeks later:

The Undercity was definitely not what you'd expect. First things first, it smelled horrible - when you talked to the lady who was introducing you to the issues at hand, she warned you about the possibility of wearing a mask. The Grey (fumes from factories located in the Underbelly) was making the air heavy. So far, so good; while the place reeked, it never got too bad. Secondly, the people didn't cut your head off when meeting you. The Trenchers were indifferent when it came to you; it was clear as day you weren't native to Zaun, but they didn't care much. The number of Enforcers traveling to Zaun was actually quite impressive. You've been worried you'd have to fight for your life, but just like Ezreal promised, Zaun wasn't that bad. Thirdly, your newly assigned condo and monthly payment were good. It gave you enough financial freedom to be fully self-sufficient, which felt simply wonderful. People from the agency acted respectfully towards you, putting weight on Jayce's words; maybe it was a last-minute decision to assign you to Zaun. Maybe, something was brewing on the horizon.

Your assigned informant from the agency told you to ask for Sheriff Grayson of the Piltover's Enforcers. If she knows who's the authority in Lanes, she could introduce you to them and get you accustomed. The problem with Zaun was simple - the city wanted independence from Piltover. If you wanted proof, all you had to do was to take the last riot into account. Your job was to secure a fool-proof plan that would benefit both parties while not degrading either. Well, with Piltover's attitude towards Zaun, that ask turned into a whole another pain in the ass, you realized fairly soon-ish.

Sheriff Grayson turned out to be a reasonable, charming woman with a lot of wisdom regarding both sides of the conflict; she referred to someone named 'Vander', the man who had a reputation and respect among the Zaunites. Ezreal wasn't aware of anyone named Vander, but he knew a black-market trader named Benzo. The blonde swore that if anyone knew Vander, it would be his dealer. "You look like you're acclimatizing fairly well." - The boy brought up as you locked the door to your condo, leaving to see Benzo. - "How is Zaun treating you?" "Hm... It's not as bad as I'd assume, no one tried stabbing me so far." - It was a bad joke, but Ez chuckled nonetheless. Walking down the stairs, your elbow mindlessly entwined with his as usual. You were happy Ezreal came to visit you in the Lanes. Throughout the last week, you've only talked to Sheriff Grayson and your sweet land lady who also had dementia.- "I'm just... Lonely. The two of you are living on the other side of Sun Canal. Getting over that damn bridge is hard, even for a diplomat. That said, the folk are more or less nice around here. They don't welcome me with arms wide open, but they're polite so far."

"Sounds like you'll get used to living here before you know it. You'd get along even with someone as demonic as old prof Lymere, on my honor." "Your uncle sounds like a tough nut. I appreciate the trust, though, young Mr. Lymere. Big preach." "After you, m'lady Y/L/N." - Ezreal exclaimed dramatically, holding the front door open for you; he even bowed, having you giggle under your breath.

Seeing Zaun through Ezreal's eyes was fascinating. The blonde definitely spent a lot of time here, knowing most of the small shops and dark alleys you wouldn't dare to go to alone. As you walked through the Lanes, he told you the history of it all; how Zaun came to be, what were its most historically significant locations, and a bit about their culture (Ezreal described it as 'pretty grim' and moved on). Benzo's pawn shop was located just off the main street - it wasn't in any grim alley where you wouldn't go in a million years or anything like that - it was a pretty nice place if you'd have to be honest. Sure, most of the goods were giving 'not acquired legally' vibes, but that wasn't your jurisdiction, so you didn't bother commenting on it. Benzo himself wasn't a bad person either, you liked him. After Ezreal introduced you, the atmosphere even shifted to a lighthearted meeting of two acquaintances. A small boy was slacking around the pawn shop, goggling his enormous brown eyes at you, but Benzo soon sent him away.

"At least, he'll have something to tell the other nuisances about." - Benzo sighed, clearly referring to other children growing up in the Lanes. - "Young Mr. Lymere. What do I owe the pleasure?" "I'm not here for business today, Benzo. My friend needs a bit of help." "Ah, really? And what can I do for the young lady? Anything particular she's looking for?" "Not something, but someone. She's not... Interested in buying, if you will." - Ezreal explained as he played with various trinkets lying around the shop. You didn't want to talk until you'd be introduced, so you simply stood around and watched the exchange. - "Y/N was sent here by the council." - In that instant, Benzo's demeanor switched to hostile for a bit. "Ah, wonderful." - The man gritted with a forced smile. - "What do these jerks need?" "I'm here to handle diplomatic communications between Piltover and Zaun. Seems like the council finally considered Zaun's declaration of independence, the one that happened a year ago. I'm here to ensure things go as smoothly as they can. I mean no harm."

Benzo watched you with a furrow, thinking about his answer. Ezreal leaned into the counter with a mischievous smile on his lips. - "Y/N is one of the best people I've met, Benzo, I can vouch for her if my word means anything to you." "Sorry if I came across as an old bastard, the folk often call me one." - The pawnshop laughed, offering you his palm. - "Name's Benzo, young lady. I'm the owner of this pawnshop, as Mr. Lymere surely informed you. Nice to know someone cares."

Yeah, only if you cared voluntarily, huh? You accepted the handshake nonetheless, offering him the sweetest smile you mustered. - "Y/N Y/L/N, call me Y/N. Nice to meet you, Benzo." "See, I told you, you'll be fine anywhere." - Ezreal smiled, nudging your side. "Who's the poor soul you're looking for?" "Sheriff Grayson referred me to someone going by 'Vander'. Said he's a geezer with one hell of a reputation around here. If there would be anyone these folk listen to, she said, it's Vander. Ever heard of him? I'd like to go over what the people could want so I could relay it to the council and start with the negotiations."

"If I know that old rascal? Ha!" - Benzo started laughing again. You liked him more and more by the minute. - "Everyone around here does. He runs a pub, you had to cross it on your way here. The Last Drop, does that ring any bells?" "Oh, yeah!" - Both you and Ezreal nodded in unison. The main pub in the largest square of the Lanes, a local district filled to the brim with former black market operations as Ezreal informed you just half an hour prior. - "Looked welcoming." "You bet, two lovebirds like you won't find a better place to make out anywhere around here." "Oh! That's not... You got it wrong!" - You exclaimed, falling into a fit of wholehearted laughter. This was the first time you laughed during your stay in Zaun - you laughed so hard your belly hurt, tears streaming down your face. "I know we've been over this, but this genuinely hurts my feelings, Y/N." - Ezreal muttered, fighting laughter himself. - "Anyway, thanks for the help, Benzo."

"You ever go there to have a cold one by any chance?" - You wondered, wiping the tears, calming down. Each time people assumed you and Ezreal were a thing, this was your reaction - breaking down, laughing so hard you cried. - "I've got the feeling I'll be spending a lot of time there." "I'll see you around, Y/N." "Can't wait!" - As the door closed behind you, Ezreal nudged your side again before letting you entwine your elbow with his. It helped you feel safe, especially in places such as this.

The Last Drop. Entering the pub, you got a feeling this is precisely the place where everything goes down. This was your first time being in a place such as this, so you looked around with batted breath while Ezreal led you to a table, nodding at a few people here and there. It genuinely felt like the lair of all the sin and alcohol. People played pool, some sulked around drinking, dancing in front of a small jukebox, playing cards or arm wrestling, laughing, and joking around. Each game was played for a bid, this pub was gamble-core galore. While you never even tried playing poker for money, Ezreal genuinely seemed to be acquainted with some of the Last Drop's patrons, nodding their way. These people felt different than those who you met until that moment... More alive, more fun, nicer. Well, until a skirmish broke out in front of the bar; a 6'8 man with chemtech augmentations punched another dude square in the face, resulting in both of them being dragged out by other patrons.

And that was when you first saw him.

He'd been talking with a woman sitting at the bar, snickering at her remark while absentmindedly polishing pints. The man, whoever he fucking was, looked like a sculpture. First, there was the smile - the mischievous spark in it, something vaguely boyish in his eyes as he looked at the woman, his watery-colored eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Secondly, you admired his facial structure. There was something so... Good-looking about his jaw and small, nicely shaped lips. You liked it when he smiled and immediately started imagining if you could make him laugh. Your heart skipped a beat upon that imagination. Thirdly, his hair and beard were visibly kept in good shape, but overgrown; it looked good on him, though, which was a look not a lot of men could pull off. And fucking lord, he was so well built. Broad shoulders, strong forearms, nicely shaped waist that begged to be hugged by your arms. Piltover didn't have men like similar to this kind, you were sure of that - he appeared to be gruff, but the mischievous smile told you otherwise. His posture and body screamed dominance, but his eyes whispered safety.

There was no doubt in your mind that the mysterious bartender was probably twice your age and that you definitely shouldn't be thirsting over him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't look away from him - the longer you watched him, the more deranged scenarios devoured your mind. Witch each piece of clothing disappearing, your mouth felt drier, the boiling hot blood traveling right between your thighs. It was impossible to look away from him. His presence ensured you wouldn't pay attention to anything else as you sat there, gravitating towards him like a moth to a lamp.

Each move he made was like cinema to you and each time his lips moved as he talked to the lady, butterflies started tingling in your belly. You wanted him to talk to you this way, was it a far cry to imagine you'd catch his attention? What were you thinking? He was a Trencher, you were a Piltie; two utterly different worlds. This guy probably wouldn't be interested in you, would he? Well, a girl can dream...

"Ezreal to Y/N. Are you okay?" - Ezreal bumped into your shoulder, making you finally look away from the bartender. Clearing your throat, trying not to appear as a flustered deer in the headlights, you looked at the spunky kid standing next to your table, seemingly getting your order. Her expression was unreadable and judging by her age and the bruise under her eye, she wasn't working here voluntarily. Who was she? "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. What's the best drink you have?" - You tried sounding at least a bit excited, but the kid just pointed to the menu and walked away. - "She seems friendly." "Probably got herself into some sort of trouble and got punished by helping that Vander guy, don't take it too personally." - Ezreal muttered, watching as you got up. - "Where are you going?" "I'll the bartender about the best drink… And about Vander." "And will you at least get a beer for me?" - Ez cried out as you disappeared into the crowd showing him thumbs, too busy staring at the mysterious man to look back at Ez.

If you weren’t mesmerized by the bartender, your shoulder wouldn’t bump into a very imposing woman who, at the time, played pool with her buddies. If you hadn’t bumped into her, she wouldn’t spill and break her pint on the ground. If her beer hadn’t been spilled, she wouldn’t turn around to take a good look at you. Upon the sound of shattering glass, the pub fell silent for a second, everyone turning their attention to the two of you. Before Ezreal got the time to get off his ass to get you outta there, the woman shoved you to the ground; so harshly that your head hit the wooden flooring. The bartender was forgotten as you grunted in pain, picking yourself off the ground; you didn’t have to bother, though. The woman gripped the hem of your jacket, making you tiptoe as she forcibly invaded your space - even though you didn’t consider yourself to be the smallest bean in the room, her physical build definitely overshone yours. She watched you like fucking prey, ready to kick or punch your teeth in.

“The fuck do you think you doin’, huh?” - The woman gritted through her teeth, biting down on a toothpick. - “You're not local, are you? Fucking Pilties, thinking you own everything 'round here, actin' like nothin' can happen to you. Guess what, princess.” “It was an accident. Put her down so we can talk this through. Sevika, c'mon.” - The friend she played against was trying to get you outta there. Even though it was a nice sentiment from the stranger, Sevika scoffed as her palms pulled you even closer.

Holy shit. Were you about to get your soul kicked out of you just two weeks after moving into Zaun? Had to be some sort of speed run record, you were positive.

“As if. Pilties gotta learn their lesson, just like we learned ours back on the bridge. Better if this pretty little thing learns it soon on.” “I’ll buy you another round, how 'bout that?” - You choked out with trouble, catching her palms in yours as you did your best to defuse the situation. Ezreal was standing just next to you now, ready to get into a fight if it would get to it. The boy, bless him, being a sweet summer child was still willing to fight for your dignity and honor. - “I’m sure we can talk about it.” “That’s all you, fucking Pilties - all talk and no walk. Zaun isn’t for people like you. You don’t belong here, sweetcheeks, you ruined our lives and now,…” - With each word, Sevika brought you closer, tightening the grip on your t-shirt. Just as you started to feel her breath on your cheeks, someone else stepped into the spectacle - someone's palm circled around her forearm, forcing her to put you back down.

It was him, the man you were mesmerized with. The bartender. The tender expression and feelings in his eyes were replaced with an unpleasant furrow directed towards Sevika. Now that he was closer, you realized he was even more handsome than you assumed. His head was cocked towards his shoulder, his brows knitted together, veins on his palm and forearm prominent due to the force he applied on Sevika's grip.

“'t’s enough.” - The man said quietly and slowly, the tension immediately defusing into thin air as your feet touched the ground. - “‘t was an accident, nothin’ more. Lass said she’ll buy you a new round, so I don’t see any problem 'ere. This is not how we welcome people 'round here.” "Old man, did you already forget..." - Sevika gasped for air, the muscles on her arm tensing as she got ready to pack a hefty punch to the man. The bartender, however, remained cool as a cucumber - simply stared at her, not flinching out of the way. "Of all the folk 'round, I'm the one who remembers everythin'. Also, you should remember it's unwise to threaten the guy who pours the drinks 'round here." "Let's get you some air, you." - Sevika's companion mutters, tugging her towards the door. - "Let's go for a walk, c'mon."

"Hey." - When Sevika was out of the door, the life in the pub started moving again - people got back to their gambling, arm wrestling, and talking, seemingly forgetting about anything even happening. The bartender was now turned to you, patting your shoulder gently while leading you towards the bar. - "You alrite?" "I'm whole, which is better than I anticipated. Sorry for causing trouble during your shift, though. Must be a lot as it is." "Huh?" - That smirk... His damned smirk made you forget about who you've been and what you were supposed to be doing in the Last Drop. - "Trouble? Sevika? Don't take it personally. I know that can be hard to do, but still. Local folk are usually much nicer."

"I've noticed." - You nodded, flushing simply because he was talking to you. Christ, you were down bad, almost starting to feel like Ezreal. - "Been living here for the past two weeks. You people are... Indifferent. But better than you being hostile." "Indifferent?" - The guy repeated after you, sending you a small, warm smile. - "That's a first. Never been called indifferent before. That a compliment?" "Depends on if you'd like to take it as such, I suppose." - His expression made you smile back at him, heart pounding in your chest. "Y'know what? I'll take it as one." - His chuckle almost sent you spiraling, making you smile at him dumbfoundedly. - "So, what can I do you for?"

"I would want a beer for that gentleman over there." - Pointing over at Ezreal, the boy just waved in your direction. - "And a drink for me." "Ordering 'a drink' doesn't narrow it enough I'm afraid, sweetheart." "What's your best drink, then?" - You wondered, enjoying the atmosphere and banter you had going on. "Do you like surprises?" "I can do without them." - You sighed in defeat. - "I can make an exception, though. One-time ocassoon, tho, don't take your chances." "Wouldn't dream of it."

While he mixed the drinks, you were keeping him company. Letting the banter flow, he started asking you why you moved to Zaun, whether you're suffering or enjoying yourself, and how you like the pub... Small talk every bartender makes to appease their customers, more or less. Even though it was this basic, you couldn't look away from him - where he moved, your eyes followed. When he smiled, you mimicked. Whenever he was closer than a foot, your heart skipped a beat. He smelled so nice, so earthy, like wood, jasmine and oranges.

"Oh, by the way." - You reminded yourself as he finished the drink, facing away from you to keep it as 'a surprise'. Uh-hm was all you got in response. - "I'm here to meet someone named Vander? Rings a bell?" "I'd assume so. What do ya need of that old bastard, sweetheart?" "I'm here to talk about possible future negotiations between Piltover and Zaun. The council wants to grant this region greater rights in exchange for peace." "You're a diplomat?" - The man stopped, bright pink cocktail umbrella hanging between his fingers. The atmosphere seemed to fade away while he processed the information, his smile disappearing.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here to make sure everything goes smoothly and help as much as I can. Vander isn't in any sort of danger. Sheriff Grayson referred to him as someone who'd be in a position to make demands for the Zaunites." "You're pretty young for a diplomat's what I meant to say, sweetheart. Don't take it the wrong way. One'd assume such a young thing would have other things on her mind." "You know him or not?" - You asked, amused by his explanation. "'s me. Vander, pleasure's on my side."

Oh shit. Oh fuck. So this was Vander. The former 'Hound of the Underground', as Grayson informed you. This beautiful man, this absolute spectacle... Was the guy you'd spend hours and hours with talking about political nonsense? This both excited and worried you. It was a curse in disguise. How were you supposed to even start talking to him? The moment you'd be alone, your mind would fill with very inappropriate fucking thoughts. "Oh, snap." "Haven't heard anything more Piltoverian in a long time. Well... How 'bout you?" "What about me?" "What's your name, sweetheart? Wouldn't mind calling you names, but when we get to business, I wouldn't wanna come across as immature... God forbid rude." - The way his tongue deliberately stretched 'business' between his lips made you swoon, gasping for air in hopes Vander wouldn't notice (he definitely noticed).

"Y/N, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. Pleasure's on my side." "Hey now, that's my line." - With a chuckle, Vander put down a cocktail in front of you. It was dark blue, frothy with crushed ice, decorated by a piece of orange and that pink cocktail umbrella you'd seen earlier. - "Look at the beauty." - Vander smiled, pushing it a bit closer. No idea what he was talking about (whether you or the cocktail), but your heart skipped a beat. Again. - "The best drink I can make. Hope it'll taste good. "How much?" "Hm?" - Vander asked, watching as you pulled out your wallet. "For the drinks. How much?" "Leave it, 's on the house." "No way, cowboy. How - much?" "Take it as compensation for Sevika's tantrum earlier, doll." - Fucking hell, this nickname almost gave you a heart attack. - "If you keep on flatterin' me, ya not payin' a single dime." "Unprofessional. Immature. Rude." - You gritted and passed a few Valors on the bar. - "Take the tip, at least." "'Aight. Can say no to that. If you'd want another drink or anythin' else, just wave at me. I'll be there in no time. Deal, sweetheart?" "What a smooth criminal you are, Vander. Thank you kindly." - As you took both drinks and walked back to your table, you couldn't see the smile freeze on Vander's face as you called him a 'smooth criminal'. Did you know? Had Greyson mentioned his impressive portfolio that still haunted him to that day? The Hound of the Underground. That's how people knew him, why they respected him.

"So, did we find the guy, or..." "Right there. The bartender. That's our guy." "Oh... Wow." - Ezreal leaned his elbow into the chair, eyeing Vander properly. - "Seems decent enough of a man. Expected someone older, though." "He's very nice and very polite." "Heh. Sure. Nice and polite." - Ezreal snickered, looking at you. You really had no fucking clue, did you? About how assertive you were, about how lovely the features of your face were. On the occasions, he and Jayce got you into a tight corner and you got flustered (which happened rarely) and you became a stuttering, annoyed mess, you were one of the most beautiful girls Ezreal had laid eyes on. And no, he wasn't saying it out of chivalry or because you two were best friends - it was because you were best that he pulled his head out of his ass for once and behaved the best he could. Back when you got the letter? Ezreal meant each word.

Collaborating with Vander actually wasn't as bad as you worried it'd be. With each meeting, you'd swoon harder and harder but managed to pull your head out of your ass to focus on the responsibilities at hand. In the beginning, Vander did his best to inform you about how things are and go in Zaun so you'd be accommodated better. Usually, he'd either invite you before he'd open the pub or reserve you a spot at the bar, where you'd talk about points that started coming up over time - like Enforcer oppression, increasing drug usage, and inadequate means for children to reach at least basic education. His points and observations were reasonable and understandable.

When he wouldn't be talking about business with you, as he settled on calling it, your mind would be consumed with him as he rambled about everything and nothing. Sometimes, you wouldn't even listen to him, you'd simply sip on your drink and let his deep voice intoxicate your brain. His smell, God almighty, his fucking smell. Over time, you've become mesmerized with the details. Vander throwing the tea towel over his broad shoulder, polishing the bar, the muscles on his back dancing in unison. How his fingers ruffled his hair. His smile when he greeted patrons and regulars. How he bit on his lower lip when he thought of a response. How he smoothed his beard when you said something out of pocket... So many details. You loved watching him like a stage play, especially when he served other guests. Did he know? He must've known - he'd send you a knowing grin each time your fingers brushed over the document you've been working on. Vander even went as far as figuring out which nickname you liked the most. Seeing as you shrugged and stuttered each time he'd call you a doll, it became his most used word.

Was he this attentive to all the other female guests? You couldn't tell. You liked watching him work, yes, but you weren't listening in on their conversation. Was it a formality, due to occupation, a game or did he mean it when he occasionally flirted with you? Some compliments Vander came up with left you speechless. He was the man to notice subtle wardrobe changes and make-up experimentations, mainly because you dressed differently than 90% of the local population. He'd be the first to comment on phrases 'so Piltoverian it hurt'. When it got late enough at the Last Drop and you'd be tipsy enough, Vander got daring enough to compliment your smile, saying it always 'lit up his entire day'. This man knew how to run his fucking mouth, sending you into spirals each time he'd whip out a compliment.

What he was hesitant about, however, was touching you - in moments when he stopped paying attention, his hand would slip on your shoulder blades as he watched you writing into the document. You never commented on it, you loved it when he touched you - it sent a heat wave through your entire body, making your breath hitch in your throat and push your thighs close together. As soon as he saw you looking at his palm, it would be gone from your back, leaving you craving more.

Benzo became one of your best friends in the Undercity, you had to admit. He had his oddities, but he'd welcome you inside his shop whenever you dropped for a visit. Ekko, the young boy you've met earlier, was introduced to you as his ward. The boy grew to adore you - you'd bring him sweets when you visited Piltover and tell him about how it looks and works up there. Benzo explained that his ward is very good with inventions, a scientist by heart - you'd promised Ekko you'd show him Jayce's workshop sometime in the future. Each time he'd be in Last Drop, whenever you came to have something to eat, a drink, or work with Vander, Benzo'd wave at you over the entire pub and save you a spot on the bar. Even though his business surely had little to nothing to do with legality, you grew fond of him.

That night, you've waited until Vander would close the pub. The place slowly depopulated while Vander flickered most of the lighting, drowning it in darkness. The only remaining light was above your head, shining right into the Blue Lagoon you'd ordered earlier. "And who'd busted your bubble?" - Vander asked quietly, watching as you played around with the cocktail umbrella. No matter what drink you ordered, he ensured you'd always have a cocktail umbrella stuck in. - "Even put some oranges in it, you've seemed to enjoy it the last time." "Just tired, I think, been finishing the document so I can turn it in. Grammar and formatting are a pain in the ass." "Sorry to hear that, doll." - The big guy huffed, sitting on the neighboring stool while patting your shoulder. Joining in, he poured himself a beer. Again, your breath hitched as you enjoyed every second of his body touching yours. - "What was wrong with the last draft? Thought it looked decent 'nough?" "Overlooked some paragraphs and spacing. Council would return it to me the moment they'd notice." "Well, 't least you tried." "Hm." - You sighed, putting your head on the bar.

"Hey, you." - Vander chuckled, his head cocked to the side as he tried keeping eye contact with you. - "Can you smile?" "Why would I do that? I'm suffering." "C'mon, pretty girl. Smile." - He'd whisper, gently caressing your back. The caress made you breathe in shakily, smiling as he asked. - "See? The nite is suddenly much better." "You're such a comedian. Why do I take the bait each time?" "Maybe you like smilin' at someone handsome as me?" - Vander opposed, making you giggle. He was the handsome man you'd met, that much was true.

It wasn't just about being attracted to him at this point, though. There was more than level-surface attraction and crackling chemistry - you liked him. Seriously liked him. As you lay away in your flat, you'd play with your blanket and think about how things could be in a perfect world - Vander would close the inn and come home shortly after midnight, kissing you on the forehead after he'd take off his jacket. That would most certainly wake you up, so you'd join him in the kitchen for a bit before leading him to bed. You usually had to stop yourself, forcefully, from letting the daydream carry on - you'd only imagine stripping him of his clothes when you got desperate enough, jerking off before sleep. It needed to be let out. Vander had to know how you felt about him. To either decline your offer or agree to try pushing the boundaries a bit. You've been tipsy enough to conclude that confrontation was a great fucking idea - you've had enough of watching other women goggling their eyes at him, pushing their breasts together as they'd order. It was bothering to look at his well-trained smile (the smile you've learned to love) as he answered them, winking their way. You liked the guy, you loved spending time with him... And he seemed to be interested as well. To what degree, you had no idea about it, but he surely liked having you around.

"Or maybe..." - It took all of your courage to turn at him, putting your palm on his upper thigh. Vander's fingers stopped caressing the glass, squinted his eyes, and tried deciphering what you've been up to. Your touch felt wonderful and, for the love of God, you smelled so good. "What has gotten into you, doll, hm?" - The man whispered, gently moving strands of your hair out of your face, smiling warmly. Your eyes were open wide, filled with little sparkles as you stared at his face. "I want to kiss you, Vander." - With those words, his motions stopped altogether.

Of course, he thought about kissing you. Multiple times - each time you were sitting at the bar and sent him a smile, to be precise. It would be easy to simply lean over, smooth your cheek, and steal all your thunder. In fact, you couldn't have an idea what you were doing to him, intoxicating his brain with the sweetest scenarios and possibilities. It would be the easiest way of shutting you up whenever Vander got you flustered; he enjoyed when you turned into a stuttering, annoyed cute little mess, though. It was endearing watching you try to get yourself off the sinking boat while digging yourself a deep grave. Vander also thought about much more than just kissing you - he'd seen you naked so many times (inside his head), he'd swear he'd recognize your body amongst other women, even with the lights off. Your strange turns of phrases often made his tummy tingle with butterflies as he laughed, explaining to you that you sounded too Piltoverian. Your expression and widened eyes goggling at him made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside... You've managed to make the Hound of the Underground soften. Fucking God almighty, your outfits made Vander's heart flutter - it was a mix of everything; sometimes you'd be wearing a fluffy white blouse paired with a brown tar-tar vest and derby trousers, other times you'd appear in a bright-colored dress and paired with, again, a tight vest. Even though you always looked out of place, Vander loved that about you. His eyes never searched for you too long, not to mention you looked like an absolute goddess. The derby trousers did nothing for your buttcheeks. When serving, he'd have to keep himself away from you so he wouldn't slap them. How would you sound if he'd made you squeak? Or if you'd be a whining, meowling mess as he'd hover over you, losing his senses to you? How would his name sound when screamed at the top of your lungs?

No matter how hard Vander had it for you (literally and figuratively), there wasn't a world when it would work for both of you. He'd been a Zaunite gangster back in the day, recently reformed into a full-time father and pub owner. Ah, when talking about fatherhood - you didn't even know he's looking after four fucking kids. You didn't have a clue about Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor. How could you? Such a pretty young thing didn't deserve a life like this - bound to one place without the alternative to leave. Vander couldn't leave Zaun. But you could. Each time Vander realized how intelligent you truly were, it would knock the air outta his lungs - if there was anyone with a bright future, it got to be you. You had the entire Runeterra laying at your feed, ready for you to explore every nook and cranny. You had places to be, people to meet, work to do... No way he'd let you throw that away for someone like himself. Compared to you, he'd been significantly older, slower and already set in his tracks - you had a whole life ahead of you.

One kiss couldn't ruin anything, could it? You've been tipsy, ogling each other for the entire night, saying shit you shouldn't really say. He wasn't afraid of rejection - Vander was perceptive enough to recognize bedroom eyes on a woman from a mile away. He was afraid of rejecting you. Now that he knew you, it was impossible to imagine Last Drop without having you around. Benzo was fond of you, Ekko loved you (Benzo admitted that the little boy might be crushing on you a teeny-tiny bit) and most of the locals started treating you as an equal. You... You couldn't disappear out of his life.

He'd hesitated for too long. The grip on his thigh started to weaken as you pulled away, flustered beyond any reason - you were turning away, awkwardly coughing into your sleeve. Everything inside his body froze before he could stop it, pushing your palm back where it was - on his thigh, squeezing it gently. As you turned to face him, he leaped forward, kissing you. It made your head spin, that's how good of a kiss it was. Things you hadn't enough courage to admit out loud, all the desire and tension resulted in teeth clattering, tongues dancing, and lips crashing again... And again... And again. You've kissed like nothing else mattered, slipping off the stools - his knee parted your legs while his palms roamed his sides and lower back, spreading them further apart as he pressed you onto the bar, palms sliding along your curved back. If Vander hadn't the willpower to snap out, you'd likely end up bent over the pool table or the tappers. Thankfully, when he felt your fingers tugging his shirt out of his pants, he stepped away, catching your palm in his.

"I... 'm sorry, doll, I shouldn't have done that, I dunno what's gotten into me." - Vander whispered apologetically, awkwardly picking up the stool you'd knocked to the ground during the kiss. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I asked for it." "Doll, there's everythin' to be sorry 'bout." "What do you mean?" - As he registered the vulnerability in your voice, his eyes snapped to you, still leaning your back into the bar. God, you looked amazing with your lips swollen from the kiss. There wasn't time to admire, you, however -this was a fine line Vander found himself on. One wrong word and you could slip past his fingers, never to be seen again.

"You... You shouldn't even be here this late, sweetheart." "Are you trying to say you don't want me here? That none of this is... Real? Was it a game for you?" - The moment you started doubting this, Vander's finger snapped at you as he shook his head. "That's not what I'm sayin'. You should be in your bed, fallin' asleep next to someone your age, maybe that blonde boy'f yours. Seems to have the hots for you, poor kid. Instead, you're here, spendin' your time with someone like me." "Someone like you?" "I could be your father, Y/N." - Vander hissed. Wow. You couldn't recall the last time he'd use your first name - he had to be worked up real bad. "You'd have to start really early, then." - You chuckled, continuing before he caught another wind. - "You're getting yourself too worked up over nothing. It's... Just a kiss, nothing more - I'll still be your regular. I loved it." - Even though the last sentence was a mere whisper, it made Vander straighten up. The explosion of a guttural warmth inside his chest was insane, almost setting him on fire. Even though it wasn't any concrete confession, one step would lead to another...

"'t felt good tonite, will feel like shit tomorrow morning, doll, you'll see." - Sighing, Vander stepped closer to you, leaning into the bar while taking one of your palms to his, playing with your fingers. - "Whatcha thinkin', doll? A Piltie like you with a Tencher like me? C'mon now, what good would that bring?" - Taking a breath, Vander pushed a stand of your hand behind your ear. "How about you let me decide what I'd like to do and how I feel about kissing you? That okay?" - Sighing, you leaned your forehead into his shoulder and gently hugged his waist with your palms. - "I'll let you know the next time I drop by."

"Okay, lemme say it differently - what would such a pretty little pet like you even do with an old geezer like me? You're not just someone, you've even studied at the Academy - the Undercity ain't somethin' you should be aimin' for, Y/N. When I look at you, I see the future. And a damn bright one at that." - His fingers were ghosting along your jaw, his heart thumping steadily. You knew the tone and look in his eyes - like a kid staring at a toy they wouldn't be able to get in a million years. - "And when you change the world, me and Benzo'll tell everyone about ya - 'Y/N? That's our girl, one of the Zaunites; the one who'd been kind enough to kiss an old fool like me'." "To which I'd say I wished you'd kiss me ever since I've met. You're just... Like a fire and I'm a moth, constantly gravitating towards you. When you're not around, it's like my breathing gets heavier, I'm worrying about where you are, what you're doing, and if you're okay... And when I see you, this warmth spreads through my chest. There's not a day when I wouldn't wanna see you and let you poke at my accent or turns of phrases. Vander, I... I... I should go." - With that, you pushed Vander off and picked up your belongings, putting a few Valors on the bars as you usually did. If you continue running your mouth, you'll start unveiling things you did your best to keep hidden away from Vander. For example, that you loved him.

If you weren't so nervous, you wouldn't miss the mesmerized look Vander gave you, breathlessly staring at you. He knew what you've been trying to say - he was on the same boat. He was just a man in his best years trying to get by, helping his community and people. It was so fucking hard to believe a girl like you liked him for what he was. If you'd say it out loud, he'd believe you. He'd even say it back. Three words - such a short phrase would become his favorite. If you had enough courage to say it, he'd repeat it over and over. Instead, he watched as you packed your things, holding everything together with a last-ditch effort. - "If I keep on going, Vander, I'd probably say things neither of us want to hear. If a kiss made the situation this messy, we wouldn't withstand what's on my mind. I... I'll see you around, I promise."

God. You were wrong. So fucking wrong. You're almost out of the door when you hear Vander calling out your name, making you turn around. He'd been mustering up the strength to say it, but before he could... The courage dissipated as you smiled at him. - "Hm?" The way he stared at you dried your mouth and your knees weakened. If you've ever seen bedroom eyes on anyone, this was it. His eyes darkened, his breath short as he tried to come up with something... Anything. Lust was a double-edged sword, that much you realized. Vander would get on his knees to hear whatever stupid shit you had on your mind if there was a slight possibility you felt the same - if that'd be the case, you'd end up bent over the bar. Drunk fucking, that would be the worst thing you could do. If you'd get down to it, you wanted Vander to be sober. You wanted to be sure it was just him touching you, whispering sweet nothings, moaning at appropriate times; not alcohol. You didn't want it to be remorse either. The moment would be right if Vander hadn't started overthinking and overcomplicating shit. "I'll go now, Vander. Remember... I won't even regret kissing you."

You didn't have the balls to go for a beer for the two following weeks. You avoided The Last Drop as if it were a plague epicenter, not even looking its way when you walked through the Lanes. Benzo caught up on the shift, asking if everything was alright. Since Vander seemingly didn't bother with informing Benzo about what happened, you hadn't either; when you popped by his pawn ship to drop off some sweets for Ekko, Benzo even got the audacity to tell you that: 'Vander misses you, asks for you every nite, girl. Whatever the old bastard had done can't be that bad, can it?' Did Vander even do anything wrong? He hadn't outright rejected you, had he? It almost seemed he'd admit there's more to it than just a kiss. Emotions, perhaps? Well, you've been on a streak of childish behavior and you planned to continue.

No matter how long you worked during the night, Vander plagued your mind. You've missed him, the way he smiled at you, gently caressed you with his looks, and how delicate his tone was when he spoke with you. It was strange to work in silence since you've gotten used to the vivacity of the Last Drop. Your flat suddenly felt like a prison - too small, too dark, and too quiet. Even when Ezreal came over to visit you and sleepover, it didn't brighten up the mood. The boy wasn't stupid when it came to crushes and lovesickness - as soon as he heard you sigh, he'd been onto your ass, trying to lure details outta you. It wasn't a bad idea, actually - you needed your friends to help you solve the conundrum of 'Vander'.

"And... You left after that?" - Ezreal asked, genuinely shocked. You've called for an emergency meeting at Jayce's - all three of you were splattered all over Jayce's sofa, sipping on a beer, eating take-out. "What else was I supposed to do?" "So, you've fallen in love with this amazing Trencher..." - Jayce mumbled through the noodles in his mouth, sitting up. - "And he kissed you like anyone before?" "Yeah, it was... Wow. We've knocked over a few stools, even, but we were both drunk." - You reminded, sighing. "Have you seen how he looks at you?" - Ezreal asked you, having you cock your head towards him dumbfoundedly. - "Every time we're there for a drink, the guy doesn't look at anyone but you. Like there's no other person in the pub, just you."

"Have you heard a word from what I've told you?" "You ran away after he pointed out a few excellent points instead of telling him what's on your mind... And then left him conscience-stricken for two weeks. Without dropping by to tell him you're just confused." - Jayce reiterated. It wasn't like that, was it? You didn't run away without telling - Vander surely knew. Why didn't he comment or answer it in any way? It wasn't just your fault - there were two to blame. "I'm... I wasn't confused." "Don't take this personally, but we've never seen you fall in love with anyone. You fooled around at the Academy - who didn't? But it looks like when it comes to real feelings... You're not too good at conveying them. Lemme guess - you started talking, said something incredibly cheesy, and then rambled, didn't you?" - Ezreal asked, smoothing your shoulder. How did he know? God, these guys knew you better than you could ever know yourself. - "In response, Vander started rambling about the future - about how it couldn't be good for you and stuff. Even though it might've come across as dismissive, Y/N, that man thought about a future by your side. Also, we can't see every thought that goes inside that brain of yours, so it can be confusing to navigate at times. You love him, then? And want to fu..." - Ezreal nibbled on, making you unnerved and flustered. Was he just about to ask you if you wanted to fuck Vander? That casually, like it's nothing? "Yes, Ezreal, yes! I can't think of anything but him, I can't eat, can't sleep..." - You exclaimed, standing up to take a long breath. The duo gave you a run for your money, you had to admit. - "All I want is him. But I don't know how to do it or what to say. That's why we're here."

"Then I don't see a problem here. Do you, Ezreal?" "None, Jayce." "We're on the same page, then." - Jayce smiled, clinking his bottle to Ezreal's before taking a good swing. - "God, these noodles are so good." "If you two don't talk, I swear on Heimerdinger's inventions..." "Vander, from what I've gathered, is an upfront, honest guy..." - Jayce started, having Ezreal nod in confirmation. "... Then it's obvious what you have to do. Just tell him. Which part? I don't know. Just go for it." "That's the best piece of advice you got for me - 'just tell him'? Isn't that what I attempted last time?" "Oh, Y/N, girl." - Ezreal howled, pushing you back to the sofa between Jayce and him, and handing you back your beer. - "This time, you're gonna go straight to the point. No cheesiness, no romance - it'll be a love confession, but you see what I mean, right? Let me phrase it delicately... You'll tell him all about those dirty scenarios inside your head. We guys love hearing stuff like that, it boosts our confidence." "For once, I second everything Ezreal said. You got this, Y/N, look at yourself. Ezreal is mostly right when sensing crushes - if he says Vander's got it bad for you, I'd trust him."

Ezreal didn't leave you on your own, God bless this sweet summer child - he'd made sure you'd really go talking to Vander, even helped you with picking out the outfit. He'd put together something insanely simple, yet elegant - a white lacey dress, a suiting black vest with golden detailing to match your Wellington boots. When enriched with adequate, very subtle golden accessories, and the right hairstyle... "God, Ezreal. When did you plan on letting me know you're a fashionista?" - You wondered, turning around to see every inch of you. You had these pieces for years and never thought enough to piece them together. Your fashion sense wasn't bad, per se, but faded in comparison to Ezreal's. "I've been making fashion statements for some time now, one'd assume you noticed since we hang out all the time." - The boy muttered, sitting on your bed. "I look so good." - Still checking yourself out, you leaned towards the mirror to look at how the golden necklace sits on your neck. "You always did. I just pushed it a step further, that's all." - Making you stand up, Ezreal caught your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. - "What's the plan? Run it by me one last time."

"I'll walk in the Last Drop, looking like a million Valors." "Duh." "Tell Vander I'd like to talk to him... Alone." "Yeah?" "And when we're alone, I'll tell him what I wanna do to him... Which will be so incredibly disgraceful and awkward..." "It'll be disgraceful and awkward if you don't pull yourself together. Be confident, smirk, touch him, smooth his shoulder, bite your lip, wiggle your eyebrows - just don't turn into a flustered mess. Imagine you're in a debating competition if that helps. Show him how serious you are, don't leave a single question unanswered." - Coach Ezreal instructed you, having you nod with fiery passion. While not known for his intelligence prowess, Ezreal was a great leader and an amazing empath. He'd known you much better than you knew yourself, helping you cross bridges you'd deemed impossible. Now, he was doing it again.

"Alright, seems to me you're in the right zone and everything. My job here is done." - The boy grinned, fixing a few strands of hair behind your ear. - "I gotta catch a date for myself." "Who's the poor soul? Do I know 'em?" - You wondered, the Undercity accent rubbing its way in. No wonder, you've been living in Zaun for at least three months by that point. Ezreal didn't point it out, just grinned while picking up his stuff lying around. "Linda from the study department." "Wow!" - You exclaimed, locking your flat. You'd walk Ez out on your way to the Last Drop. - "Why do you sound so down, then? Weren't you pinning against Linda for months?" "Eh... I mean, yeah... The problem is I asked her out at a party, super-drunk, and everything. Don't even remember what I fooled her into believing. Remember that faculty party you didn't come with me because you were too busy ogling at Vander?" "Hey, I'm not taking accountability for that. Jayce was your babysitter for the night." "He, for one, was busy ogling some guy from Heimer's office and didn't make it in time to inform Linda it's not a great idea." - Ezreal grinned, watching as you gasped for air. Ogling a guy from Heimer's office? Damn.

"How come I hadn't heard about this 'till now?" "You were too busy putting that draft together. Even sobbed about it when I slept over last week. Didn't think telling you about Jayce's romantic endeavors would help much." "And... Who's the guy? Do we know him? What's Jayce's type?" - Eyebrows wiggling, you pressed on, making Ezreal chuckle. "No, don't know him, I saw him at the party for the first time. How'd I describe him... Frail and foreign for sure. Don't take it wrong, he's... Strangely handsome, that one. Think it's the accent doing it for our poor old Jayce." "Fuck me." - You snorted, opening the front door. - "Our science bro has it down bad for other scientists. Twist of the century." "I liked Viktor." - Ez mumbled while leading you towards the main parade. - "He's snarky and most likely a genius. Zaunite by heart, strangely perceptive, weirdly confident in the best way... You'd love him." "You think Jayce would ask him on his own?" "Eh, no, not really. I'll start working on setting them up soon." "What would we do without our romance and fashion guru, Mr. Lymere?" - Looking him in the eyes, you smiled while Ezreal caught your hands in his, nodding at you.

"Now, forget all about Talis and his non-existent game... I mean, the guy can flirt, that's for sure, but..." "Not the point, Ez." "Right." - Ezreal nodded some more, clearing his throat. - "When you come tomorrow evening for the play, all I'm going to hear about is how this hunky, handsome guy blew your back out, 'kay?" "Ez!" - It was a squeal as you started to laugh, stepping aside, breaking the moment. - "You gotta stop saying that. I'm not good with... Saying this stuff out loud, you know that." "Good luck, lovely." - The boy leaned in, kissed your cheek, and sent you one of his typical smiles before turning on his heels and leaving. God, you loved Ezreal.

As Coach Ezreal coaxed you into doing, you did your best to walk into the Last Drop like a million Valors (not to mention the intense break you took leaned into the pub's wall, trying to get your shit together). As per usual, the place was lively - people haggling around, playing cards, jukebox playing a nice tune while they drank. Since it was the weekend, Vander wasn't behind the bar alone; Vera and Jakob were his backup for the night. You'd admired how Vander and his part-timers work in unison. Their responsibilities were strictly given, so each of them had their own little universe to keep in check - Vander dealt with the orders, Vera mixed cocktails and prepared snacks and Jakob ensured there were always enough dishes. "Look who we got here! Hey, Y/N!" - Benzo's voice exclaimed so loudly it was heard all over the pub - some locals acknowledged you with a nod or wave, not staring for too long. Benzo, however, was seemingly happy to have his drinking buddy back in business. As you made your way towards the bar, you'd let the guy hug you clumsily before stepping aside.

The bartender hadn't said a word to acknowledge your presence. Hadn't even looked your way, it seemed. Was he hurt, just like Ezreal expected? Was he pissed to see you walk in so casually? Why didn't he reach out, then? You'd bet your money that he knew where you lived - one could never keep a secret while living in the Lanes. It took all your willpower to snap your eyes into Vander's face, waiting for him to do anything, say something so you'd know what you're on. Funnily enough, Vander didn't plan on making it easier for you. At first, you were worried that he'd truly become indifferent. Devil's always in the detail, you reminded yourself, searching for signs of what's going on inside his head. When you started noticing, your heart fluttered in your chest, hot blood rushed into your cheeks. His eyes lingered on your lips, the gulp he'd desperately tried to suppress, the grip tightening around the glasses he polished. He'd held onto them to forcefully his knuckles turned white.

"It's so good to see you, both of you." - With a smile, you turned towards the bar. Vander automatically pulled out your favorite coater (he'd hide it away from other guests, this one was yours specifically), leaning his hands into the desk like a let-down parent. "What can I get you?" - His mumble was quiet, devoid of any emotion. No nicknames, no jokes, no flirting, huh? He'd really have to be pissed off, then. "I'm here on business, actually." - Sending him a sweet smile didn't help either? Damn. - "Could I steal you for a minute or two? Won't be keeping you long and then I'm out of your hair, promise." "Somethin' goin' down up there?" - Benzo asked with worries in his tone. "Nothing I can't take off, Benzo. Just need Vander's expert opinion, that's all. He'll be back before you know it. Shall we?" - With a clap of hands, you sent Vander yet another warm smile. The bartender raised his eyebrows, sighed, and put his tea towel on the bar. Picking up his sandwich, he'd informed Vera about being gone for fifteen minutes (for his break) at tops before vaguely gesturing for you to follow him. Fifteen minutes was all you got, huh? Fuck.

You'd expect him to lead you to his office on the upper floor - Vander didn't deem you worthy enough to sit on his plushy chairs, because he'd open the back pantry for you, opting you to sit on one of the barrels. "Well, start talkin'. We ain't have the whole evenin' - is it about the readin' or somethin'?" - Without an ounce of care, he'd peeled the napkin off his sandwich, chewing on it. "How... Have you been?" "How have I... Thought you wanna talk business, young lady." - Vander reiterated mockingly, looking away from you; his eyes had been stuck on your lacy dress, drowning in the sight of your breasts pushed together to form a delightful cleavage - it wasn't showing too much, but it definitely showed more than usual. Your breasts looked so... He'd been this close to reaching towards you, undoing the vest so he could squeeze them and nuzzle his head to your chest. Fuck, you looked so absurdly alluring and tantalizing Vander couldn't stand to look at you. He was mad at you just an hour ago - he couldn't give in that easily. He'd spent the last two weeks being absolutely miserable - your seat remained empty night after night, your coater hidden behind the tappers. Even though he'd known you weren't coming, he'd always ushered customers from sitting on your stool - his mind often going back to your carefree smile, your elbow supporting your head as you watched every move Vander made, reminding him of the cute expression on your face. Even the kids caught onto his mood swings - Vi laid into him regarding what, to quote her, 'Fucking busted his bubble?'

It took you a lot of courage to pick yourself off the barrel, stepping closer to him. Did you look seductive? You didn't feel like it at fucking all. Vander freezing like a deer in the headlights hinted that you were on the right track.

"I'm here to finish the conversation we started last week." "Not this again..." - Vander countered and started picking himself up to leave - it was a surprise when you pushed him back on his ass, keeping one hand on his shoulder, soothing his jaw with your other one. "I don't think I made myself clear enough." "Oh, trust me, darlin', you've said plenty..." "Yeah? Then you're gonna listen to it all again, I guess. Poor you." - The sandwich was long forgotten, lying on one of the shelves as you cocked your head to the side, sending Vander the calmest, sweetest smile you could muster. Holy shit, you realized, Ezreal's advice worked. Vander couldn't look away from you as you leaned your knee between his, planting your thumb on his lower lip to enthuse you'd love to kiss him again. Feeling the softness of his mouth made you lick your lips.

"I hoped you'd be smarter than this, sweetheart." - Vander whispered, finally giving in to your touch - you could feel his fingers creeping up your calves, gently lifting your skirt up, traveling up to your thighs. - "I ain't good news for a young thing like you. You'll get bored soon 'nough, leavin' me behind. Won't even remember me a few years from now... Thought you not showin' up was a good sign." "Good sign?" "That you'd understood what I tried to say and decided it would be best not to fool around with someone like me." "I thought about this a lot over the last week - about you, me, and what I tried to do. I was drunk, we both were, and words didn't come across as I'd like 'em to." - Lifting his chin up, you started playing with his hair. - "No matter how much you hate hearing this, I'm really into you. I think I'm in love with you."

Everything stopped for a second - his grip on your thighs tightened as he brought you closer, staring at you with pure adoration. His expression didn't reflect all the love and happiness behind his eyes, but the fireworks going off told you more than you needed to know. He'd felt the same, to one degree or another. There wasn't any rush to say it back - when he opened his mouth to talk, your finger stopped him as you pressed it there. Cheekily, Vander planted a kiss on it, waiting for what you wanted to say. Rest assured, your words almost gave him a heart attack.

"Now - stop fucking telling me how I'll feel or what I'll do in a few years. I want to be in the now with you and you're making it pretty fucking difficult. How about you just forget about everything for one night and show me how you feel about me? I don't care if this isn't a good long-term decision or whatever you're about to say - you're what I want most now. And even if I'd become a real diplomat one day... Vander, we're smart. We can figure it out. Stay in the moment, here with me." - Stepping in, you could feel your thighs bump into his abdomen - still holding his head in your palm, you were standing directly above him. Fucking hell, he was even more handsome up close. You loved every small wrinkle and crevice of his skin, an almost invisible scar on his lower lip, prominent cheekbones, and hair so soft you wanted to simply tug on it. His fingers on your thighs started to move up and down, caressing your smooth skin - even that alone was enough to make you meowl softly.

"So, therefore, I propose we drop the act and focus on letting whatever this is blossom. Fuck, you have no idea about how many times I'd imagined kissing you, Vander, how I melt each time you smile or give me a cheesy compliment. No other man in my life makes my hands shake just by standing beside me. You have no idea how many times I've dreamt you'd be in my bed, taking my clothes off and eating me out... And all the things I'd like to do to you, shit." - You continued mumbling erratically, not really paying attention to what was leaving your mouth - Vander seemed mesmerized either way as he bent your knees carefully, lifting you up to sit his lap (given he was sitting on a barrel, that shit must've been uncomfortable as fuck). Hearing you curse for the first time was an out-of-world experience for him, especially when accompanied by quiet hisses and subtle moans. Every word leaving your lips was dipped in honey, making him gasp for air helplessly - if he'd like to, he was sure you'd be willing to undress right there and then. Your knees fit around his waist as if he was made for you, his hardening dick pressing onto your thigh the moment you wiggled a bit. Feeling him made you gulp and lick your lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, playing with his hair.

"I don't know what you're so scared of? I'm here, you're here... Let's just... See what happens." "Ain't this an abuse of power, miss diplomat?" - He whispered, making you giggle. "Would be if you didn't want to fuck me as desperately as I wanna fuck you." - You whispered, stealing a quick peck off his lips. This broke the dam, causing all the feelings and emotions to flood out. "You - have - no - idea - what - ya - doin' - to - me - doll." - After each word, Vander stole a kiss from your lips, his palms lifting your ass, making you rock on his waist, grinding on his dick with a raisin intensity. Each movement made you moan breathily, sending chills down your spine. and started grinding your groin against his, earning a breathy moan from you. - "Seein' you talk to men makes my blood boil 'cause I want to be the only one you give that pretty smile to. I wanna be the one wakin' up next to you, caressin' your skin, help you with showerin' your back, and see all the newest clothes and underwear you bring home... Mainly the latter, 'f course. I just... I just wanna be your man." "Then show me, baby." - You whispered quietly, pulling him for a proper kiss, grinding against his lap in a steady rhythm. Warmth was spreading through your tummy, making it tighten each time your clit grazed the fabric of his trousers.

"I'd love nothin' else, doll..." - The man hummed, holding your chin between his fingers. Dear lord almighty, you looked more sensual than any woman he'd met before you - you seemed to be intoxicated from his kisses and words, your face burning up as he dragged his finger along your cheek. Each time you rocked your hips over his cock, your entire body shivered, eyelids fluttering. Realizing it was him making you meowl, that he kissed you so passionately that your lips were swollen was the hottest turn-on he'd ever felt. - "But my break is almost over. No way I'd undress you in this damn pantry for our first time, you deserve somethin' much better. You free tonight?" "Hmhm? What do you have on mind?" "Come pick me up after I close down. I'll make us dinner. We'll see where the things go from there, yeah?" "Can't wait, handsome."

After Vander watched you leave the Last Drop with a shy smile, his eyes glued to your ass, he couldn't stop grinning. Five hours remaining until your randez-vouz... A whole fucking eternity. The tent in his pants was unquenchable, no matter how many hairy men Vander attempted to imagine. This tween behavior made Benzo grin - he didn't need to ask what you've been up to, he already knew. Watching Vander's blush and his constant throat clearing was enough of a show in itself. Business his ass; Benzo and Vera actually bet if you'd have sex right then and there or if you'd wait for a better moment. Vera was now 20 Valors richer.

"Could you take over the tappers for a minute?" - Vander asked, looking at the drink she was just finishing - you'd like it. Filled with pieces of chopped fruit, a very refreshing mix of spirits and lemonade. - "Gotta arrange somethin' real quick." "You got it, V." - Vera called over her shoulder, showing Vander a thumbs-up. Leaving his tea towel on the bar, Vander turned on his heels to walk into the basement - this was his kids' designed hangout spot when they didn't feel like exploring Lanes. And since Vi was under house arrest, they've been lounging around it all weekend.

"Oh, hey." - Claggor was first to acknowledge him - he and small Powder were playing tick-tack-toe while Mylo read in the corner, only sending him a nod. Vi was sitting on the couch with her palms under her head, staring at the ceiling. "What's up, old man?" - Vi muttered, sitting up. She had the most authority over the group, so she needed to be pressured the most - getting along with her meant getting along with the rest of the kids. At this point, Vi wasn't even mad, unlike a month back - now, she spent most of the time thinking about how to avoid Vander's attention next time, ticking off the few remaining days on her hands.

"I wanna make a deal with ya, kids." - Vander started, leaning his ass into the counter below him. Everyone was paying attention now, their head turned directly at him. The truth was - he needed the flat empty if he wanted to host a dinner for you and fuck senseless after... Which would be difficult with four fucking kids around. - "I'll let Vi off the hook sooner if you'd sleep here, need ya outta my hair. Just for tonight." "Why?" - Powder wondered, her enormous blue eyes ogling at Vander. It was time to blush, sweat, and truly clear his throat. All the kids stared at him before Mylo exclaimed 'Aaaaah', laughing at Vander's busted ass. "... Our old man got himself a date." - The boy explained - before he managed to utter another word, Vi gripped her palm around his shoulder. "That's all she needs to know." - The girl ended topically, grinning at Vander. - "That's it? No buts or ifs if we stay the night here? That's all you askin'? You'll just... Let me off the hook?" "Depends, have you learned your lesson?" "Of course I did." - The girl answered, emphasis on the word 'did'. Yeah, right, and Vander was the newest fucking councilor. The kids started nodding frantically, making the old man chuckle. - "We all did. Last month had been very educational for all four of us." "Then you're off the hook. Of course, in case of an emergency, just come ask for help - I'll be here for you..." - Vander informed swiftly, watching as Vi sat next to him with an angelic smile - from his experience, she was about to ask the stupidest fucking question he'd heard all day. "Is it the pretty one? That one sitting on the bar all the time and staring at you as if she'd never seen a man? She has it bad for you." "You're begging for another month of house arrest." "Hadn't even said anything!" - The girl laughed, taking Vander's answer as a yes.

Striking a deal with the kids was a double-edged sword - they might be grateful for now, but jokes and innuendos were coming Vander's way, for sure. He needed to embrace all parts of fatherhood - the good parts, like Powder's drawings on the fridge or Vi's occasional hugs as well as the bad parts, consisting, for example, of the kids consistently finding sex and relationships cringe and disgusting. "Can I ask a favor from ya?" - Vander stopped in the doorframe, looking at the kids. - "Would you clean up the mess you've made yesterday?" "Oh, yeah... The pancakes..." - Powder sighed, remembering all the dirty dishes and ingredients plastered all over the kitchen sink. That might've been her job. Vander (while being very grateful for the breakfast) asked the kids if a bomb had gone off in the kitchen. "No problem, big guy, you got it!" - Vi exclaimed, her eyes shining as she just found another angle for a stupid statement. - "Everything will be good as new for your big night, on my honor." "You're on some mighty thin ice here." - The old man mumbled, but couldn't hide the grin appearing on his face.

Waiting for the Last Drop to close was endless, you'd swear - you'd change into outfit after outfit, trying out different underwear sets and even switching your hairstyle three times. You'd decided on something more decadent and less showy - while the afternoon visit was to seduce Vander, now you wanted to be more you - while being less fashionista, your outfits were still cute. Even walking into the establishment was nerve-wracking - just as you slipped through the door, Vera was leaving for the night after cleaning the whole place up. Jakob was long gone after that point - his mom was sick, so he'd leave around ten, leaving the two to deal with the locals and patrons.

"Hey." - You waved, smiling at the guy shyly. Vander was just polishing the tappers - you loved how his hand moved steadily, showing all the veins on his forearm. "Hey, you. Lookin' cute." - The man didn't waste any time making you fluster as you put your bag on your stool - you'd packed a few spare things to change into. "How was the night?" - Without hesitation, you'd walk behind the bar and roll up your sleeves to sort the different glass types Vander had lying around. "C'mhere. Forgotten somethin', silly." - Without notifying you, the man hugged your hips and pulled you in for a kiss - no matter your wet hands. Giggling, you didn't hesitate to kiss him back, gently smoothing his chin.

"Missed ya here, sweetheart." "I'm here now... And I'm starving." "Let me finish up so I can cook you somethin' delicious, doll." - Gently slapping your ass (melting at your surprised squeal), the man started finishing the very last chores feverishly. "I'm here to help - after I finish the glasses, what's on the agenda?" "Nothin' for you. I'd like some help in the kitchen, though." "Got it. Well..." - Smiling at him, you'd slap his ass back. It was a homely gesture you enjoyed, honestly. Something about slapping ass and watching his eyes shine as he glared at you made your heart flutter - getting another kiss helped too.

Vander's flat was on the top floor of the Last Drop - it was spacious, but felt crowded at the same time, for an inexplicable reason. There was a lot of stuff. Even though it was tidy, you got a chaotic vibe from the place... That meant you wouldn't like it, however. The design was incongruous, as you'd expected from a bachelor's fault - the pieces of furniture didn't match at all (in case they did, it was only vague), and the decoration was lacking, but he'd everything he needed. The flat smelled nice, unlike the rest of Zaun - like wood, oranges, jasmine, and his musk... It smelled like him.

"Welcome to my little kingdom." "Mhm, I like it here... A lot. Feels quite like home." - Your words made him smile even more widely than before - walking to you, he gently held your head in his palms before lowering his, kissing you with a happy hum. It was a sweet, delicate romantic kiss; his lips gently brushed yours, his palms slowly traveling onto your shoulders, copying the curve of your back and settling on your ass, bringing you impossibly close. "Let's get cookin' before you make me lose my damn mind, doll." - With a last caress of your jaw, he'd walk into a spacious kitchen/dining room. The table was impressively large - enough to host at least seven people. That was where you noticed it for sure - a lonely crayon forgotten under the table and children's drawings on the pantry door. Observing them, you nodded to yourself, putting your bag onto one of the chairs.

"There are... Nice." - You muttered, pointing at them. His expression froze for a second before he joined you in observing the masterpieces. "Mhm. I like 'em a lot. Always make my day." "Who gave them to you?" - With the most innocent expression you could muster, you pressed on with the interrogation. Vander... Wasn't taken, was he? He'd tell you if he was, right? Where would be his wife and presumed children - would he just tell them to leave the flat until he deals with his booty call? Surely not.

"Well, yannow, I help around the community. A lot of kids out here, a lot of excited painters." "Uh-huh." - The confusion and suspicion in your voice was almost tangible. There was one theory you could test out. - "Could I use the bathroom real quick?" "Suit yourself, doll. The first door on the left. Call out if you need anythin'." "I'll be right back." - Kissing his shoulder to divert his attention a bit, you walked inside the small bathroom - it wasn't anything regal, but it fulfilled its purpose. Turning on the basin to cause distraction, you started searching for proof of feminine presence - make-up, perfume, comb... Anything. The only thing you found, however, was a pink hairband forgotten next to the shower. A girl's hairband, you realized - could he be a widower? That would be fine too, you'd even understand why he hadn't mentioned it until then. Well, in that case, it would be better not to pressure him - he'll tell you on his own.

"Everythin' alright?" - He'd ask as soon as he noticed you lurking around the kitchen. Letting your eyes drown in the sight of a homey, domestic Vander was a heavenly sight. He'd taken off his jacket and worked on cutting some vegetables. "Everything alright. What can I help with?" "The meat." Cooking together was fun. You'd open a bottle of wine, chatting as you prepared the meal - Vander asked about details he hadn't learned yet, and you asked about his past, favorite pastime, and hobbies. As per usual, he'd been an open book, answering everything right away and with honesty - this guy could be married, no way in a million years. When a comfortable silence settled between you, you just wait for the meal to be ready - you've decided to settle on a small, very old kitchen island while waiting for Vander to finish peeling and roasting the potatoes.

"Whatcha grinnin' at, you pretty little thing?" "Just watching the most beautiful man I've met, 's all." "Look at her." - Approaching you, the man was purring with happiness. As he approached the edge of the island, your legs opened themselves to hook around his waist, bringing him closer. - "The accent's catchin' 'n everythin'." "Did to impress the guy I like." "Hope he's handsome and treats you right." "You have no idea." - Holding him in place with your palm, you put the glass down and closed off the distance, kissing him slowly. Passion built up with each little movement - he'd hold you impossibly close, his hands roaming your body freely, even taking the vest you've been wearing. Hip lips traveled from your lips to your neck, kissing a small trail below the collar of your blouse as he worked on the buttons. If you weren't starving, you'd let him undress you right there, on the fucking kitchen island... Ruining the atmosphere, your stomach started growling. The moment was gone in an instant, having you both laugh quietly.

"I'm sorry." - You laughed as he hugged you. This time, you let your hands roam around his broad back and shoulders, scratching it with your fingers. "Nothin' to be sorry 'bout. I promised you dinner and I intend to keep the promise." "You bet. Couldn't wait for what you have in store." "... If you provide the desert, that is." - The tone of his voice mesmerized you, having you ogling at him. Fucking hell, he looked so hot - looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust, his thumb playing with your lower lip. Wiggling your hips around, you could feel what was the reason for this sudden change of mood. His dick was deliciously outlined, almost begging to be pulled out and sucked, hitting the back of your throat. "I can give you a little taste." - With an innocent smile, your palm slowly caressed his lower abdomen, slipping down between his legs. Even the thought of having his dick on your palm made you hot and bothered, let alone imagine him finally fucking you after all this time. Sure, you've had sex before, but you've been this down bad and horny for anyone. Imagining him naked made you shuttered, his warmth made goosebumps rise on your skin - as if he knew what pressure to apply, how to apply it, and for how long... Vander was perfect. Fucking perfect. Just when you brushed the tip, Vander's palm tugged on yours.

"Dinner first, doll." - Pushing himself between your legs, he couldn't resist pulling you for one last kiss. - "You'll have all night for showin' me what a good fuckin' girl you are." "Okay, baby." "Good. I ain't plannin' on lettin' you leave until the mornin'." - With a last kiss on your temple, Vander walked back to the stove to check on the food. It smelled delicious. So much so that your stomach grumbled again.

The dinner was delicious, you had to admit. The man knew his cooking and he wasn't shying away from showing you heaven by overstimulating the everliving shit out of your taste buds. Vander even brought a bottle of wine from Last Drop's exclusive displays to amp it up. Having a man working in gastronomy spoiling you rotten had its benefits, you must admit. The conversation was... Mundane. You'd suspect the rising tension would've made it harder to make small talk. Still, it didn't change much except the hunger behind Vander's eyes - he hadn't seen you or talked to you properly in the last two weeks, of course, he wanted to hear what you've been up to, how locals treated you and if there's anything he can do to help.

You've been the one to do the dishes, despite Vander's protests - he was ordered to sit down and relax for a bit; he'd been on a long shift and cooked for you, no way you wouldn't return the hospitality. Other than fucking him senseless, that was. "Lord almighty." - It was a mere whisper, almost too quiet for you to notice. While drying your hands, you'd turned your head to Vander to send him a smile - his expression made you freeze in one place. His voice was husky as he stared at you, looking you up and down as if he hadn't seen a prettier woman before. His elbow leaned to the back of his chair, his tongue slowly traveling on his lips as he enjoyed the view - your hair let down, blouse half unbuttoned, tar trousers perfectly hugging your curves. Domestic behavior was one of his weaknesses.

The stare sucked the air out of your lungs, the smile disappearing. He'd been staring at you as if he was preparing to devour you alive, like a wolf preparing for the last blow. You've never felt like prey... Not in a good way. Daring to take it a step further, you unbuttoned the vest, letting it slip off your shoulders. The man didn't tear his eyes off you - it was hard to even blink, let alone move. Carefully, your fingers push under the blouse, showing off more and more of your skin. As you teased to show him your breasts, his response was a playful scoff. Turning away from him, you slipped the piece of clothing over your head; the see-through fabric left little to the imagination anyway, but finally looking at the laces of your bra left Vander biting his lip.

"Enjoying the show, big guy?" "You have no idea, doll." "How about you show me, then?" "Seems you're havin' fun on your own, don't lemme slow you down." "Could use a spare pair of hands." "Keep goin' and I'll think 'bout it."

Stripping for someone's enjoyment was new for you, but it was... Fun. You'd suspect you'd feel dumb, maybe silly; seeing how he palmed his hardening dick over his pants while watching each move you made gave you confidence. So much of it, in fact, that you slowly slipped the pants off your hips, your boots following soon after. Vander's eyes were glued to how you palmed your breast, playing with the hems of your panties. "Still want to only watch?" "Do you realize how mesmerizing you look, darlin'?" - With that, your fingers finally slipped under the fabric - your other palm grabbed on the kitchen unit so you could ache your back, letting out a lewd moan. - "Keep goin', doll, show me how you like it."

Fulfilling the wish, your fingers drew delicate circles around you, gathering all the wetness leaking out of you. You hadn't been this wet for anyone before Vander. Soon, you stopped caring if he was even watching you - you started to slip your fingers in and out, playing with yourself just as you enjoyed it. It was when your breathing got heavier and your knees started giving out when he finally walked over to you. Immediately, your forehead found its way to his shoulder, your fingers grabbing his forearm forcefully enough to leave dents. Helping you with getting off, he carefully pushed the tiny lacy panties aside (Vander wanted to keep them intact mainly because he suspected this piece of clothing would bring him on his knees anytime you'd show it to him). His fingers were much thicker than yours, making you moan in sensation as he carefully pushed them inside you, curling them up ever so slightly.

"Keep goin' for me, pretty girl, I wanna hear you moan." "F-fuck, Vander." - As he requested, so you provided, panting heavily between meowls and lewd moans leaving your mouth. - "You can add one more and go faster, please." While doing as you asked, he also slipped one of the straps off your shoulder, letting your breast bounce out of the bra. Carefully nibbling on your nipple, he'd pushed his knee between your legs to support you. With each second, your moves started becoming erratic as you ground against his hand, trying to match his palm's thrusts. "Shit, I think... I'm about to..." - Throwing your head backward, his lips found yours in a rough, passionate kiss. "Let go for me, c'mon, good girl." - His husky voice in your ears defused the bomb building inside your abdomen, letting you sink into his fingers in one last stretch. The orgasm felt surreal - his smell intoxicated your brain, your ears started ringing from the blood rushing inside your veins and your mouth produced the most erotic sounds it ever has.

"Holy shit, that was nice." - You admitted, gripping his shirt to lower him down for a proper kiss. "I want to hear this more often, sweetheart." - Vander chuckled, licking his fingers clean while staring you in the eyes. This view had you biting on your lip, kissing him once more just to feel his and your tastes mixed. This alone made you smirk. - "Can't believe how lucky I am to have you here. I imagined this so many times..." "Let me take care of you, big guy." - Leaving all the clothes in a discarded mess on the kitchen floor, your palm tugged on his palm to lead him inside the bedroom.

It was a bit messy, surely seen better days, but it felt very homey - his bed was unmade, clothes that he discarded in a rush were thrown over the chair and a collection of various books and papers gathered on the table. You could notice various framed pictures hanging on the wall but didn't go as far as to check them out. The bed seemed sturdy, excessive wooden frame resting at the mint green wall. You liked it. Even before you asked the first question, his lips crushed to yours, forcing you to back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. While his hands started pulling his t-shirt off his body, you didn't waste any time unbuckling his belt, your lips kissing a wet trail on the skin he uncovered for you.

He'd been in better shape than you imagined - Vander wasn't the type to have his muscles flexing or rocking a six-pack, but he was slender with just the right amount of chubbiness sprinkled on top of it. Dad bod in its finest form, that's how Ezreal described it to you. You loved the curly hair on his chest; it wasn't too dense, just enough to look ridiculously hot. His happy trail below the belly button was very tasteful, making you moan breathily. Your fingers started to shake as you finally pushed his trousers down, putting your palms on his hips and taking a moment to simply adore him.

Vander was the most beautiful man you came across, there was doubt in your mind - you loved his fucking body. His palms were much larger in comparison to yours, also filled with small calluses due to his occupation, but the rest of his skin was smooth and warm. His stature was a sight to behold - broad shoulders, wide chest, and waist that simply begged to be puzzled between your thighs. Just by looking at the outline of his dick, you knew it was going to be a nice ride - its length was perfect for you, the only thing you were worrying about was how thick it appeared to be. "What's the frown for, doll?" - His voice broke you out of your thoughts, his thumb playing with your lower lip. "Never had someone so wide." - Your words made your pussy contract delightfully, already aching to feel him filling you to the brim. "I'm a handy guy, doll, I'm sure you can take it if I help you. But you gave me a promise, remember?" "Desert?" "Lay down for me, sweetheart, c'mon." - With a quick, skillful move, the bra slid off your shoulders, leaving you fully naked. And yet, you've never felt sexier as you laid down, letting him prop your back up with a pillow while getting on his knees. - "Look at the view, doll." -Vander murmured, pecking both your inner thighs. His smirk was screaming danger, but so fucking good-looking. You've been so aroused that the surrounding air felt cold on your core. - "Must be nicest I had in years. You're even wetter than before doll, God." - With a murmur, he'd kiss the sweet spot right above your clit, sliding his nose through your folds tantalizingly slow. - "You smell and taste so fucking good."

Then, he dived right in, taking you in his mouth with careful, slow, and precise movements - his tongue copied lazy circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves, and his palms and shoulders kept your legs spread wide open, no matter how many times you tried pushing them together. It could be felt he's skilled in eating out - even though he couldn't know what you liked, he started slow and looked at how you reacted, being perceptive enough to repeat the movements you seemed to enjoy and avoid those that made you frown. It didn't take him long to make you a whimpering, whiney mess - especially after his mouth dipped down to catch every bit of your arousal, licking you clean - his watery eyes were piercing through yours, watching as your breasts moved with each breath you took. When he pushed two fingers in once more, a long and needy moan filled his bedroom. That was when you broke off the eye contact and draped the sheets, concentrating on the heat slowly building in your abdomen, your toes curling against your will. His tempo was slow, playful... Vander was definitely taking his time with you.

"'s this what you imagined, doll? Havin' me on my knees, goin' insane over how you taste and sound?" - The man murmured into the skin on your thigh, sending light vibrations through your pussy as he chuckled upon listening to how you desperately tried putting a sensical sentence together. You failed miserably. As you stumbled on your words, his fingers sped up until you squirmed with pleasure, tightening the grip around his shoulders. - "With I could stay here forever, eatin' this pretty little cunt 'til my name's the only thing you remember. Such a pretty fuckin' little girl." "Vander, please, I need you." - With all the will remaining inside you, you managed to pick yourself up on your elbows, tugging on his hair. - "Please, baby, I need you so fucking much. Your tongue on me, your dick balls deep inside me, whatever you'd like... Just don't fucking stop." "Never, doll." - His mouth assaulted your sex with precision, devouring you like there was no tomorrow, even pushing his face further into you while his fingers worked wonders inside you. Your fingers tangled inside his hair, ensuring he wouldn't move an inch. The movements of his tongue became brutal the more your pelvis rode his face as you started chasing your release. He mumbled something, but you never got to know what it was - the vibrations were enough to send you over the edge, making your body tense up and thighs squeeze his head impossibly close to your clit as he continued sucking on it, riding you out of your high.

When your legs spread again, he gasped for air with a large smile, his beard glistening with your arousal. Fuck. Having him marked like that was turning you on. His fingers inside you didn't stop moving yet, enjoying the way your walls squeezed them. He enjoyed how you squirmed each time his thumb gently caressed your oversensitive bundle of nerves. "All good, doll?" "No one had... Jesus, hmpf... How... How are you so good at this?" "Just wanna see my girl happy, 's all. Love seein' your face like this." - Still working wonders between your legs, Vander picked himself off the floor to kiss you. Gently, he pressed in another finger, stretching you even more. But by Gods, it felt so good. - "We're there, baby girl."

Not breaking the kiss, his fingers slipped out of your slit, helping you to climb higher on the bed. Once again, you propped your pelvis up with a pillow, sinking your head into another. Vander caressed your cheek and kissed you before teasingly running his dick through your folds - you were still slippery enough thanks to the mix of his saliva and your arousal, so there wasn't a need for lubricating. His precum leaking out of the tip of his cock made it simpler. Still kissing you, he started teasing you cradling his pelvis back and forth with his dick aligned with your entrance, as if it was to slip any moment now; his other arm propped on the bedframe. "Ready, doll?" "Whenever you are." "Attagirl."

As soon as the tip of his cock slipped inside you, a hurtful hiss crossed your lips - his mouth was instantaneously back on yours, kissing you gently, the palm which was guiding his cock minutes later entangled with yours. Even though Vander did his best to loosen you up, he was still wide. The width made you gasp for air between kisses, each inch filling you like anything before. It didn't hurt, it was just a bit uncomfortable until you got used to the sensation. Your eyes sliding across his face and mouth wide open, you started enjoying the feeling of fullness, especially seeing the ecstatic, awed expression on his face. "Almost there, doll, almost there. You're takin' it so good." "It feels so good, baby. I love feelin' your dick inside me." - As you traced your fingers on his face, you could feel him throbbing upon your words. The sensation made you move against his body, letting the rest of the dick slip inside in one swift motion. - "Holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck." "You look so fuckin' mesmerizing, takin' my dick like that." - His pelvis started moving carefully, sloppily slipping in and out of you. The sounds were so erotic, so perfect, turning you on even more.

When you felt like you could take it, you started to meet his thrusts halfway, making you both groan in pleasure. Your knees circle around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you - as he did his best to make love to you, his thrusts were playful, slow, and careful, making sure you're getting the most out of it. Vander was also making sure you'll be ready for when he'll start mercilessly fucking you like there's no tomorrow. "Mhmh, you feel so fucking good, Vander." "Love it when you say my name like this." "Vander..." - You moaned, feeling as his pace started picking up, his thrusts becoming more precise. - "God, Vander, Vander, Vander." "You'll be the death of me, fuck."

Before you grasped it, the headboard started banging into the wall as the bed creaked under the brutal tempo Vander had set - you didn't attempt to shush your screams and moans as you dragged your nails down his back, aching your back until your breasts met his chest. Both of you were sweaty and aching in the best way possible, sloppily kissing anytime you could. "I won't last for much longer, doll." - His voice was hoarse as he stared at your tits bouncing around, every semblance of sense erased from his mind. All Vander knew was how perfect you felt tightening around him, that this pussy must've been hand-made for him and him only, and that your moans were the most musical sounds he'd heard until that day. "Cum for me, big guy." "Where... Shit." - Vander sat up, putting his forearm under your back to keep you in position. This new sensation made you squirm, digging your nails deep into his forearm. He'd been even wider from this angle, filling you up better than before. - "Where do you want me, doll?" "Anywhere you want, Vander."

This was Vander's last stretch. His name falling off your lips in such a lewd manner fried his circuits, having him bury his dick deep inside you with one last thrust. Out of breath, Vander collapsed on your chest, listening to your fast heartbeat. Your fingers started playing with his hair and caressing his sweaty back, feeling the warmth spreading deep within you. Everything felt perfect. "You know how you said... You loved me?" "... Also said you don't have to say it back, Vander." "What if I'd like to, doll?" "... Then I'd be the happiest girl in the Lanes." "I love you." - The man murmured, picking his head up to look you in your eyes. The words made you smile widely as you held his pace in your arms, giggling. His softening member was still inside you, but neither of you seemed to be in the rush to pull it out.

"That's the fucking talking, big guy." "It ain't, on my honor. You're the best girl I've ever met. If you won't mind, I'd love to make you mine." "Then repeat it..." "I love you, doll." "Again." "I love you." "... One more time." "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Vander." - Cracking a smile, you let the man kiss you, losing yourself in his warm bear hug and embrace. Moments after, he finally picked himself up, walking to the bathroom to bring you a warm towel. Letting you clean yourself up, he disappeared into the kitchen to make you tea and pick up all your clothes scattered over the floor.

The night, just as he promised, was endless - he'd taken you from more positions, caressing your body with the utmost care, as if you were a goddess he wished to worship. You did your best to project his behavior, but you've been too lost in it all - his lips, warm skin, arms wrapped around each time part of your body, his groans in your ear, his beard scratching your lips anytime you kissed... It was around seven in the morning when you finally picked yourself up, pushing his shirt over your head. "Want something from the kitchen, big guy?" "All I want is you back as soon as you can." "Bet your ass..." - Before you could finish the joke, someone barged into the room, making you scream in surprise. You were moaning Vander's name just a few minutes back - who the fuck was this?

Looking at the incoming person, you've known the girl. You've already seen her serving in Vander's - the same violet hair, deadpan on her face as she looked at Vander covering himself with his sheets. "What the..." - You asked, looking at her. The girl, seemingly, ignored you. "... She did it again. I need your help, old man." "What? Who did what? Who are you? Vander?" - You asked with confusion, looking from Vander to the girl and back. "Oh, hi." - Suddenly, the trouble was forgotten as she leaned her shoulder into the doorframe, smiling at you cockily. - "Fancy seeing you here. Looking good." "Hi?" "What did Powder do this time?" - Vander sighed, bringing Vi's attention back to him. To hide the embarrassment, Vander massaged his face with a long sigh.

"We wanted to prepare some breakfast for you guys, so naturally, the stove's on fire." - The girl explained, but didn't seem to be in a rush to stop the ongoing apocalypse in the kitchen - now that you concentrated on it, you could hear distressed squeals and multiple people arguing, pans clinking on the metal - you could also see the smoke rolling out of the kitchen. The flat smelled hellish, making your eyes swell in tears from the subtle itching. "Cover the pan with a pot lid - it'll put out the flames. I'll be right over." "Hope you'll swing by too. Powder can't wait to meet you." - The girl picked herself off the doorframe, winking at you before closing the door.

"What the fuck was that?" - You asked, looking at Vander with disbelief. Who was she? Was she his daughter? Who are the other kids? You had your suspicions, yes, but this freaked you out more than you expected. You expected one, two kids at best - according to the ruckus, there were more people than that, though. "Listen, if you want to leave now, doll, I understand... I..." "Are these your kids?" "Sorta?" "Sort of? How can you 'sort of' have kids? "Adopted 'em little nuisances after the riots last year. None of 'em had a home to go back to - felt responsible for 'em. Listen, as I said, no one's holdin' you here. You must be furious..." "Fucking confused is what I am. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" "Wasn't confident 'nough if I'll even be what ya want without knowing I have four kids on my back." The vulnerable expression on his face made you soften up. Four kids was a lot, yes - his actions, however, were honorable. Where would they end up if Vander didn't step up, giving them a home and a loving fatherly embrace? The longer you stared at Vander, the more motivated you were to step out of the door confidently, sharing this awkward morning with all five of them, and taking everything it could give you. You... Wanted to meet them. You wished to know every possible side of Vander and share all the good and the bad with him. You wanted everything he was offering - whether it was holding your hand, kissing you during his shifts in the pub, all the mindblowing sex, warmth in his eyes as he whispered 'I love you', his fingers tracing your skin as you laid opposite each other and talked between fucking, his warmth, his love... You wanted it all. And if he had kids, that was a part of this little everything you wanted so bad, no matter how worried it made you.

"Was this the reason why you freaked out so bad?" "Ain't it obvious, Y/N? I'm almost forty, with a pub and four kids on my neck. Someone as young shouldn't worry about whether they have 'nough to eat, clothes to wear, 'bout what trouble they got themselves into this time... This ain't a life for such a young little thing." "But it's your life. And I want you..." "That's precisely why you shouldn't be wantin' me, doll. C'mon." "Stop making my decisions for me, Vander. Did you plan on telling me about the kids?" "Not for a bit... I was worried it would drive you away. I'm a selfish bastard, haven't you noticed?" "Fucking far from it. The least you could do was to tell me about them. It would make things less embarrassing." "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you told me ahead of time, we could have our little rendezvous at my place - do you realize how awkward this is for me? For them also, I'm sure." "I'm sorry, Y/N... I didn't know how to bring it up..." "We better get going before Powder blows the kitchen up." "... You ain't gonna leave?" "Of course not. These kids are a part of your life, so I want to get to know them. Step by step. If let me stick around, I can be a good step-mum to them one day, maybe." "Are you serious?" - Vander asked, staring at you with his lips parted. "Dead serious." "I... Fucking love you, Y/N." "Right back at you, handsome. Move your ass before someone barges in to drag us into the kitchen."

___ Author's note: So, regarding Ezreal... I didn't want him to come across as a sappy romantic who's in love with the reader - he's more of a naïve playboy in my mind, constantly falling in love with whoever's in front of him, seeing different people every week. Ez definitely got the charm and rizz to pull something like that off. On the other hand, I think it could be a platonic love situation - they're both into each other (to one degree or another) - the reader doesn't date him, however, because she has standards, and Ezreal, as he admitted, would rather die than seeing someone like himself fooling around with her.

[menlove]

potential times they fucked ⁉️

LISGSHSHS well MOSTLY I'm just like dead certain they fucked in paris. not just 1961 but in 1966. because of john himself. there's this whole post on his short story in skywriting by word of mouth but tldr

skywriting by word of mouth classically chronicles a lot of john's sexual exploits via fictional characters to represent himself & his partners

one of them takes place in paris. the guy is away working on a play & his lover sends him a telegram asking to meet in paris. they meet up at the george v hotel & they fuck to god only knows by the beach boys. there's references to gay culture & sex (ie her name is a play on a drug popular among gay men & john writes about the man basically fondling her "potatoes" lmfao). this isn't their first time in paris & the man is hesitant abt the relationship bc of his status

IN REAL LIFE: john wasn't working on a play but he was filming "how I won the war" in 1966 a few weeks after the beatles' last tour. for whatever random reason (😐) in the break between filming in germany and filming in spain, john & paul met up in paris for the weekend. where they stayed at the george v hotel. and god only knows is Vital here. why? it's paul's favorite song (& don't even get me fucking started on this. he broke down crying when he performed it with brian wilson & it also inspired here, there, and everywhere which is both his AND john's favorite song he's done. which he wrote while waiting for john to wake up. but whatever). they'd been to paris twice before, like the lovers in the story. once famously in 1961 when john took paul to paris for his 21st birthday and they shared a single bed lmfao. and then in 1964 where they stayed at the george v for the first time (& john wrote if I fell. haha! cool!)

as for the 61 trip.... it's already gay but I don't have AS much to say about it re being certain they fucked but there is audio of john singing to paul about paris ("my cheri my pau pau" 😐) & in it he mentions paul's dick (& calls it small lmfaoooo) and just overall is being Extremely Suggestive

honorable mentions of potential times they fucked with WAY less credibility are india ("what WERE we getting up to?" and john proceeding to fake blow a microphone while paul fucking blushes and giggles. okay. it's in get back). and thennnnn there's this which is EXTREMELY threadbare I'm doing everyone a disservice w this but john made a collage for elton john for his birthday that includes a naked man that Suspiciously Looks Like Paul

lmfao that familiar mullet. also:

so is that paul? probably not. but I just think it's funny and I'm going to pretend it is and that they fucked in nature at LEAST once in the 70s

[anna-hawk]

I want you

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: You're at a surprise birthday party in your honor and Shane can't take his eyes off you.

Warnings/Tags: semi-public sex, slight uniform kink, birthday smut

WC: 3k // Explicit 🔞

Also on AO3

For @darlingshane I know that I'd told you that I'd be writing you some soft Sam Rossi smut this time, but I didn't have time, and then we had that conversation about Shane being prime thirst material. I played around with this scenario like a sequel to “Just the tip” for a couple of weeks, but I thought that it could be fun for a birthday party too and turned it into something for you. I wrote this today, mostly at work, and my brain has been in Shane thirst mode the whole day😝. I know how much you love him, so I hope you'll enjoy this little gift, even if it's not Sam. Again, happy birthday!!! 🧡🧡🧡

As Shane chatted with a small group of friends, his eyes flitted over to where you were standing on the other side of the room. You were surrounded by a throng of friends still laughing about your shocked face as you’d walked into your surprise birthday party earlier that evening. 

Shane’s shift had ended in time for him to make it to your best friend’s place and be there for that particular moment, but he was still wearing his deputy uniform. He’d brought a change of clothes, but between the moment of you getting to your friend’s house and everyone jumping from behind furniture to surprise you, followed by people running to you excitedly, Shane hadn’t bothered with it, preferring to watch you laughing and grinning happily. 

Still looking at you and barely listening to the conversation being held around him, he smiled to himself as he thought back to the moment he’d finally managed to reach you to be able to give out his own birthday wishes. You hadn’t seen each other at home today, with you having an early shift while he had a later one. He’d sent you a text, of course, but he’d needed to tell you face to face. 

“Happy birthday, Darlin’,” he’d rumbled, as he’d wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Mmh, thank you, Deputy,” you’d replied with a purr, taking hold of the lapels of his uniform shirt to pull him closer as he’d kissed you. 

He’d grinned against your lips, knowing how much you enjoyed seeing him in uniform. There had been a few catcalls when Shane had dipped you slightly, which had the both of you laughing as you straightened, and he took a step away from you, one hand at the small of your back. As the time had gone on, you’d slowly parted, following a conversation here or there, until you’d been at one end of the living room and he at the other.

Shane’s eyes roved over your body, the clothes you’d chosen for tonight highlighting all your assets in ways that had Shane’s hands twitching with the need to touch you. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time you’d had sex. Well, no, that was a lie. It had only been a few days ago, but what he wanted to do to you right now was more than just some slow, albeit satisfying morning sex with him lying behind you as he thrust inside you deeply. 

Since you were facing towards him, you instantly caught his eye as you lifted your eyes while still speaking with your friends. Your lips pulled up for him, but you didn’t stop in what you were saying, your words completely unintelligible to him over the gaggle of other conversations.

“I want you,” Shane mouthed, moving his lips slowly while staring right into your eyes.

He knew you’d gotten each word, since your eyes widened briefly before you blinked rapidly, and you visibly faltered in what you were saying, completely caught off guard. Shane smirked, keeping his laser focus on you as he watched you grinning and looking away, resuming your conversation while clearly flustered. Shane forced in a deep breath of air at the lust sparking through him at your reaction. His grin widened as you glanced back at him several times, biting over your lower lip with an amused, and definitely turned on expression. 

“What do you think, Shane?” 

Shane’s attention snapped back to the people he’d been talking to, realizing he’d completely tuned them out in his observation of you. 

“Sorry, what?” 

It was your best friend’s husband who’d asked the question, and Shane did his best to give him his attention again. As he answered, however, he still wasn’t able to keep his eyes away from you all the way. 

A moment later, there was a bit of a commotion as he saw your group stepping away from each other, all of you laughing and looking to the floor. You were grimacing through your laugh, one of your hands and the hem of your shirt covered in some liquid, while a glass of punch lay on the floor. Shane watched you hurry off towards a corridor lying to one side of the house, while laughing as you called to your friends that you were heading to the bathroom to get cleaned up over your shoulder. 

More arousal ran through his belly at the idea that popped into his head. The bathroom was all the way down that long corridor.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said to everyone in general thirty seconds after you'd vanished, not bothering to check whether anyone heard him or not as he followed after you. 

Quickly glancing around himself to make sure that he wasn't attracting any attention, Shane casually walked towards the bathroom, hurrying his steps only once he was out of sight. Once at the door, he grinned wolfishly and pulled down the handle, opening it to find you standing, shirtless, in front of the sink, washing out the stain on your shirt. 

“Hey, it's occu - oh, Shane, hey.” 

The tension of surprise at someone walking in on you like that evaporated as soon as you realized who was at the door. Shane walked inside and closed the door, before locking it while still facing you, his hand at his back to do so. 

“Shane?” You questioned with a small frown after hearing the telltale click of the lock.

Your confusion quickly made way for understanding, however, and Shane had no doubt that it was from how he was looking at you, since your eyes widened and your lips parted, the shirt hanging limply from your fingers. 

“Shane,” you repeated, this time with amusement and warning in your tone. 

Shane paid the warning part no mind as he advanced on you, his eyes traveling over your bare skin, the lacy bralette the only thing covering your chest. He chuckled when you took a step backwards, only to be caught between him and the sink. He lifted one of his hands to trail the fingers down your collarbone and chest in a featherlight caress. The fingertips stopped at the top of the bralette, and he stroked an index along the whole edge, from one breast to the other. 

“Shane,” you breathed, the shirt falling to the ground as you let go of it, your chest already rising and falling quickly, much to Shane's satisfaction. “We're not home.” 

Shane stared up at you from where he'd had his attention on your breasts, looking into your eyes from under his lashes. He smirked; your complaint sounded far too feeble to be given much consideration. His fingers went over the edge of the bralette and cupped the side of your breast lightly, the thumb flicking over your pebbling nipple, back and forth. Shane saw you close your eyes on a gasp, followed by a small whimper that was mostly held in by how you were biting your bottom lip. While he kept up his teasing, his other hand slid over your waist and to the center of your back, the touch as light as the one he'd bestowed on your chest. When he lightly tweaked your nipple between index and middle finger, you gripped the edges of the sink. 

“Shane, please,” you begged, panting as Shane undid your bralette with his other hand, making the material fold and fall down your arms, revealing your breasts to his gaze. 

“Please what?” he smiled, ducking his head until he caught the other nipple between his teeth and pulled on it lightly. “Hm?”

Your hand flew to your mouth to cover it and stop the long moan threatening to come out of you. 

“Shane… I - ah.”

Shane took the nub into his mouth and sucked on it hungrily, while throwing glances up at your face. You'd opened your eyes again, halfway at least, and we're staring down at him with a dazed expression from over your hand. Fuck, but he loved rendering you to the point of speechlessness. He put a hand on the sink behind you for balance and used the other one to open your pants and slide his hand inside. The hand you still had on the sink yourself flew to his shirt and gripped it tightly as he teased a finger over your damp folds. You bit into your hand as he started to move his hand back and forth, as much as he could within the confines of your pants. 

“Please what?” Shane reiterated, circling your clit with his pointer finger and grinning devilishly as he straightened to lean over your slumped form. His lips touched the back of your hand that was still over your mouth as he spoke. 

You lowered said hand and stared at him with your pupils fully blown. 

“Make me come,” you breathed.

“Mh, anything for the birthday girl,” Shane rumbled, his hard cock straining against his pants at your tone of voice. 

Pulling away from you as well as removing his hand from between your legs, Shane grabbed you by the hips and turned you around. You gasped and caught yourself over the sink, staring at Shane through the mirror in front of you. Your eyes grew wide as Shane tugged your pants and underwear down to the middle of your thighs and pushed you over the white porcelain until you were braced on it with your elbows. He could tell that you hadn’t expected him to fuck you, your expression full of apprehension for a moment before your eyes met his again and you settled. The emotions running through him at the utter trust you placed in him, even for something like that, made him release a harsh breath, his dick throbbing in his uniform. Making quick work of his pants himself, he pulled his boxers just low enough to take out his length and balls, the cool air on his raging erection making him shiver. Staring between your legs at your center, your flesh already glistening from your lust, Shane had the sudden desire to sink to his knees and lap all your juices up, slowly take you apart until you came on his tongue. He took in another deep breath, his knees already starting to give way on their own, his body knowing how much he loved making you writhe with his mouth. 

No time, however. 

Instead, Shane leaned over your back and pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades, before looking at you through the mirror and talking against your ear. 

“Seein’ you like that, already so ready for me, with your pretty lil pussy drippin’ for me… Wanna fuckin’ eat you all up, Darlin’.” He rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, gathering your wetness and making him feel how hot you were, while not even pushing inside yet. His balls tightened at the anticipation of the warmth and tightness he’d been experiencing after filling you. 

You closed your eyes, a full-body shiver going through you at his words. 

“Please,” you uttered, desperate and needy, and Shane wouldn’t have been able to wait any longer even if he’d wanted to. 

“Look at me.” It sounded like a command, but Shane only needed to see the pleasure filling your eyes at the same time he filled you. 

He pushed inside you slowly, savoring the way you squeezed around him, wet and hot heat enveloping him and making him groan deeply, while his eyes never looked away from your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together faintly, how your mouth parted on a long moan, only to be quieted by your hand, were things Shane would never get enough of watching. Leaning up and taking you with him with a hand placed between your breasts, Shane made you cant your hips in such a way that he had the perfect angle to thrust inside you. Which he did after pulling all the way out, the tip of his cock right outside your entrance, to slam back inside with a sharp snap of his hips. Your eyes went wide with the shock of pleasure it delivered, and Shane had to cover your hand over your mouth to help muffle your scream of bliss. Since Shane had his hand over your mouth, his hand larger than yours, thus more effective in keeping in your noises, you slipped your hand free and put both on the edge of the sink for some leverage against his thrusts. Shane wrapped his other hand around your throat, pulling your head slightly back against his shoulder, making your back arch and push your ass out even more. 

“Fuck, just look at you,” Shane growled against your hair, watching your reflection, and the bouncing of your breasts as he fucked you faster and faster, knowing that he couldn’t take his time like he wanted to. “Look at yourself,” he continued with more intent, while slipping the hand from your throat between your legs. “So fuckin’ pretty like that.”

Your eyes fell shut for the first time when Shane began rubbing over your slippery clit while still fucking you at a fast pace, your body trembling so hard with pleasure that Shane had to tighten his hold on you. 

“Yeah, that’s my girl. Come for me, baby. Gonna squeeze my dick so - fuck!” Shane snarled the last part in pleasure when your walls clamped down around him as your orgasm hit you, his hips stuttering briefly before he kept on filling you again and again. 

Little keening sounds, that were getting louder as your release reached its highest point, slipped through Shane’s palm and forced him to press his hand even harder over your mouth. To be honest, Shane wanted nothing more than to hear you scream, the others be damned, but he knew very well that you wouldn’t be able to face your friends again if they heard you. As soon as your orgasm began to subside, Shane let go of you to pull out and started stripping his cock with ruthless movements, your juices making his strokes oh so easy. 

“Wh - what are you doing?” you asked, panting harshly from your slumped position over the sink, watching Shane through the mirror. “Want you to come inside me.” 

Shane groaned and closed his eyes at the words, his dick spilling out more pre-come. 

“Fuck, really wanna do it, Darlin’, but we gotta head out soon, and you'd regret it, trust me,” Shane admitted in a rush. Despite how much he wanted to fill you up, he knew that you didn't have the time to fully clean up before someone came looking for you. 

Shane stared at you as you suddenly whirled around to face him, your beautiful face still carrying the signs of pleasure. Leaning in to kiss him briefly, Shane watched you fall to your knees and open your mouth, your tongue lolling out of it expectantly. 

“Gimme your load, Deputy Walsh,” you spurred on with a wanton gaze, letting your tongue graze the head of his cock. “All of it.”

Shane gritted his teeth and caught himself with his free hand on the sink behind your head as he stroked himself wildly over your upturned face. You always knew what to say to drive him wild, and playing with his title and submissiveness was always sure to get him there. As his balls drew up with his approaching release, Shane reached for your hair to get your head exactly where he wanted it. He locked his knees as he came hard, his hot come shooting all over your tongue and lips. You held there, gazing at him with utter satisfaction as you waited for him to be done before drawing your tongue back into your mouth and visibly swallowing. Shane exhaled a sharp breath as he watched you, his cock twitching a few more times at the sight you made. 

“C’mere,” he rasped, as he stooped to catch your forearm and pull you up to him. 

After kissing your temple, Shane retrieved the shirt and bralette, while you pulled up and fastened your pants. 

“At least the stain’s gone,” you said as you examined the shirt once you’d put the bralette back on, grimacing at the wet spot against your waist where the stain had been. 

Shane straightened his clothes as well, and you made sure to check if everything was in place before going for the door. You found your best friend in front of it, her fist lifted as if about to knock.

“Oh, hey, I was wondering what was going on.”

Shane felt you stilling behind him in shock, probably wondering if she'd heard anything. Your friend’s eyes went from Shane and back to you a few times, her expression searching, but Shane grinned at her charmingly and shrugged as he stepped out into the corridor.

“Uh, we… just tried to get the stain out,” you explained as you followed him, pointing at the shirt and where the stain had been. “And it worked.”

“Yeah… tried real hard,” Shane added, chuckling under his breath when your friend didn’t look at him. 

You shot him a warning glance, but Shane still saw the way you tried to hide your own grin as you realized that she hadn’t heard anything.

“Oh, good,” she smiled, before linking her arm through yours. “Come on, I came looking for you cause we’re about to bring the cake in.”

“Chocolate and cookie cake?” Shane wondered from behind the two women. 

“It better be,” you laughed, turning to face him with a wide smile. 

The guests had formed a large circle around the main table, people turning to you excitedly as they saw you coming back. It was just in time to see your friend’s husband bringing in a large cake, the small lights of the candles dancing with his every step. Everyone burst into song as he deposited the cake on the table, and you smiled shyly at the heartfelt attention. Shane smiled fondly from behind you, and curled an arm around your waist to pull you into his side and kiss your head. 

“Happy birthday, Darlin’.” 

“I got a taste of you and now my favorite cake. It sure is a happy birthday,” you said only loud enough for him to hear you, grinning at him with a note of mischief. 

Shane snorted loudly at your unexpected words, and pulled your face to his to kiss you. 

[dsireland86]

It's Folio Friday and My Birthday!

If you're the one who left the request/message in my inbox earlier in the week, I had a plan that day to work up something sweet and fluffy for you for your special day! Happy Birthday, friend! You share it with our favorite bassist as well 😊And, my favorite day of the week... Folio Friday! It's a 3 for 1 special today; A brand new Folio Fic, A Happy Birthday Message, And Folio Friday Honor.

Hope your day is wonderful! Happy Birthday!!!

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp 

He's never done this before. He's never had a need to. Past relationships have just been flings that never amounted to anything. But this, what Folio has with you, it's different. Completely different. The last few months with you have changed him, making him want to strive to be a better version of himself. You bring out the softer side of him and give him a reason to want to show it. Folio is head over heels in love with you, and today on your birthday, the very first birthday you're celebrating together, he's going to prove it.

"No, not that one. She hates pink and absolutely anything princess!" "Whoa, okay dude, chill," Nicholas mutters. "What kind of girl hates pink and princess stuff, anyway?"

Nicholas looks at Folio like he has two heads.

"The kind that isn't girly." "What's wrong with being a girly girl?"

Folio shrugs.

"I didn't say anything was wrong with it. I just said Y/N isn't one of them."

"Well," Ruffilo says, tossing the pink princess crown cake topper back on the shelf. "What does she like?"

He looks at Folio who stops to think for a moment, thinking of what it is that would make his girl really happy on her birthday. Then it hits him.

"Dude!" his eyes grow wide. "I know exactly what she'd like Come on." Folio rushes past Nicholas, betting feet out of the party store. "Finally," Nick groans, following his friend out the door.

Y/N gets out of the shower, wrapping the towel around her. Wiping the mirror to rid it of the moisture, she stares at herself. Another year older and she doesn't look any different, but man does she feel different. So much in her life has changed. New friends, new job, new house, and a new relationship. She smiles just thinking about him.

Folio fell into her lap months ago, by mere coincidence. They hit it off instantly, the connection between them being a first for both. Folio was the best thing to ever happen to her, and she never waisted a moment to make sure he knew it.

A subtle knock on the door and it opens, revealing the man who has stolen her heart. He looks delicious in his Harley hat, black t-shirt, jeans, and boots. His smile is infectious, bringing one to your lips.

"Happy birthday," Folio says, a small smirk lucking in the corner of his lips.

"Thank you," you bashfully reply, looking away from his intoxicating stare.

"You don't have any clothes under that towel," he observes, eyes etched on your body. "Yeah, no duh, Sherlock," you sarcastically reply, raising an eyebrow.

He moves in closer to you, pressing his body against yours, wrapping his arms around you. His soft kiss to your lips is enough to send your head spinning out of control, forcing you to suppress the impulses running through you.

"I have a surprise for you. But I need you to put some clothes on first." You chuckle, closing your eyes briefly. "I think that might be possible." "Good." He kisses you quickly again, patting your bottom before leaving the bathroom, leaving you to giggle and squeal to yourself like a teenager in love.

Folio helps you out of the car, a blindfold covering your eyes tightly. The smile that's been stuck to your lips since leaving the house has made his heart race, the anxiousness swelling up inside him making him shake a little.

"Nick, I'm scared," you giggle, gripping his hand tightly. "Why are you scared? Do you think I'm leading you out to the middle of nowhere to torture you and bury you alive?" You stop suddenly. "Sweetheart, I'm kidding."

Smacking his chest and hearing him laugh, you let him lead you to wherever it is he's planning, trusting him completely. "Alright, stop." "Nick, can I please take this stupid thing off now," you beg. "Yeah, yeah, okay," he mumbles, carefully removing the blindfold.

The light is bright, almost blinding. You squint trying to focus your yes and allow them to adjust. A national park sign stands before you, along with a visitors center building. You have no idea what is going on.

"Okay, I'm confused." Folio chuckles. "I figured. Come on," he says, kissing your forehead, and leading you up the hill.

You enter the building and you look around, trying to find any clue to lead you to an idea of where you are. The images you see are slowly registering with your brain the more you walk around. As the realization of where you are hits you, your eyes swell up with tears, forcing your hands to your face to hide your emotions.

"I'm really hoping those are happy tears, because if they're not, I'm going to feel like the worst boyfriend ever.” You silence Folio by pressing your lips to his and throwing your arms around his neck. He responds by wrapping his around your waist, hugging you tightly.

The Sequoia National Park visitors center is mostly empty, giving the two of you a little private time.

"I know it's not a lot, but I know how much you've been wanting to come here. You've talked about it a lot since we've been together, and I figured now would be a good time to bring you.

You stare at your boyfriend, absolutely starstruck at his thoughtfulness and kindness. It is one of the reasons you fell for him so easily.

"Nick, this is the best birthday gift ever!" "Really?" Folio gushes, a small smile breaking out over his face. "Really. I love it. And I love you," you reply, laying your hand on his cheek. "Thank you." Closing yours around his sweet face, you smother his smile with more of your kisses, which he gratefully accepts. Your words to him, the I love you, pierce his heart deeply, making his stomach flutter.

"You love me?" he replies, stunned. At first you think you've said the wrong thing to him. It's only been a few months. How could you possibly be in love with him enough to tell him that you love him. But looking at him right, so happy, you realize that it's not too soon. You are in love with him.

"Yeah, I do. I'm in love with you, Nick."

Slipping his hand behind your neck, he pulls you in and kisses you passionately, gently slipping his tongue in your mouth and tasting you. It makes you whimper as you cling to him, gripping the sides of his shirt in your hands.

When you part, Folio stares at you, but differently than a minute ago. His gaze is confident, strong, and on fire for you.It makes you weak, makes your heart race and the butterflies in your belly come alive. You're his now. And he's yours.

"I love you, too, Sweetheart. Happy birthday!"

[awinchestershell]

I’m not sure how it still manages to surprise me after all this time, the depths of the selfishness and cruelty of human greed. 

I remember the day One Direction was formed. I remember how nervous they all were, how young and excited and wide-eyed about the possibilities being tossed into their laps. They truly had no idea what was in front of them. 

They were so small, and they had such big dreams that barely fit inside them, and it was so beautiful watching them achieve them. 

I remember watching them become more and more jaded over time, that childish wonder being torn away as the reality around them became more apparent. I remember hundreds upon thousands of tweets and tumblr posts from worried fans about how exhausted they seemed, something in their eyes just not feeling right anymore. 

The day Zayn left the band the world seemed to stop. I couldn’t tell you how many young girls on my social media pages I saw wailing in what at the time seemed like the worst pain this band could ever put us through.

God, how wrong we were. 

It seemed so obvious, even at the time, that there was something more going on. It wasn’t like they were trying to hide it. 

Then Zayn wrote his book and spoke about how much he’d struggled in the band, and for the first time one of the boys had publicly acknowledged how hard it was to be One Direction. And he was still barely scratching the surface.

The band breaks up, or ‘goes on hiatus’, and again it feels like the worst thing they could do. How much harder of a hit can we take? What more is there to lose?

And yet again, it’s so obvious that there’s more going on then they’re saying. They all seem so worn out, downright miserable at times, yet they never stop the grind. They never take a day off. They never sleep. 

Slowly, they start to talk about the reality of being a child star. Of being sixteen years old and handed the world on a silver platter, money and fame and all the things that no one ever even touches in their wildest dreams, and they’re not even out of high school yet. 

They talk of being locked up in hotel rooms for days at a time with nothing to entertain them but the mini bar. Feeling trapped, being a prisoner to their own success. They talk of schedules so busy they shouldn’t be possible, never seeing their own families, cameras in their faces at the most vulnerable moments of their lives.

They begin to write what they really feel. We finally get a peek into their real thoughts instead of what some bighead in a suit is telling them to think.

They write of real love, feeling lonely, feeling sad, feeling scared, feeling on top of the world, toxic romances that you know are toxic but you stay anyway because you don’t want to be alone, happiness so overwhelming you lose your mind, grief, exploring, running free, coming home, friendship, drugs, sex, all the best and worst parts of being alive. 

They write what they feel, and what they know. They express themselves. 

They find their own paths. We worry, of course we worry. But it’s an honor and a joy watching them find themselves in their music.

We convince ourselves that they’ll come together one day. Not even for a tour, because they’ve changed too much and so have we, but for a charity show, or someone’s birthday, or an anniversary. 

And then TMZ takes a photo.

And now we know that Zayn leaving and the band breaking up meant nothing at all.

It’s a fascinating thing, really. How you can spend years of your life not really thinking of someone anymore and then they’re gone and suddenly they’re all you can think of. 

I never left. I’ve known these boys as long as they’ve known each other. But I’ve seen so many people in the last week see this news and have years of memories come rushing back to them. A whole lifetime of love and joy and community just gone.

It’s a brutal, miserable blow to the most innocent part of you. The part that believes in the goodness of humanity, in the pure joy of creation, being a part of something bigger than yourself. 

All of the jokes, the laughter, the music, the friendship. It’s all just gone.

And the worst part is it didn’t have to happen.

A completely, hilariously avoidable tragedy. 

He’s gone because humanity hates itself. Because we are greedy and cruel. Because a management company exploited those five young boys for money and power until they couldn’t anymore, making sure to torment them along the way. Because men with cameras have to leech off of every vulnerable moment celebrities have, using and abusing their suffering for a quick buck.

Because the anonymous, mindless drones on social media think that their opinion is the only one that deserves to be heard. And that they decide who deserves to live or die. That it’s appropriate to send someone death threats and tell them to burn in hell, and then post jokes and celebratory tweets about them after they’ve killed themself. 

Because TMZ thinks that taking a picture of a man’s dead body and leaking it to the press before his mother has even gotten the call that he’s dead is good journalism. 

This is why he’s gone. 

THis is why there will be another Liam Payne after him. This is why we will never, ever be okay. Because humanity sees a senseless, unnecessary tragedy, and they point and laugh. And they ask how they can make money off of it.

Because we are broken. Fractured down to our core. And there is no fixing us. Not anymore. 

The media took a sweet, funny, bright-eyed 16 year old boy and they sucked all the life out of him. They turned him into a soulless cash cow, they took him for all he had, and when he had nothing left to give they abandoned him. 

And now that he’s gone they’re turning his death into a circus. Instead of allowing him the dignity of dying in peace, surrounded by the love and privacy he deserves, they’ve robbed him of even that.

When a mother is left resorting to begging the internet to not post filth of her child’s dead father so he won’t have to grow up and see it one day, and a crowd of teenage girls are forced to raise their hands up to block cameras from filming a man as he collects the belongings of his dead son, we’re left wondering how we got here. 

Ask yourself just how much of your soul you have left, and if the answer is any at all, how much are you willing to sacrifice to continue playing a part in this nightmare? 

[hauntedwitch04]

Lucifer I

Nyx Acheron x reader

Words: about 5.0k words

Warnings: blood, death, murder, sad things in general, shitty biological family

Author's note: This is a request by a follower on Wattpad, that I personally loved and I wrote this during the night. It's not complited, the second part will be out soon, but it was getting to long. Hope you like it loves, your witch Becky

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"Say one more word and I swear I'll cut out your tongue." You say looking at the young prince of the night, who reciprocates by looking at you amused.

"Uncle Az, tell your hound dog to stay put." Nyx replies, as he rises from the chair in the meeting room we are in. For a moment you forget about him and end up looking around, and you wonder if little te knew this would happen to her in the future, if she would believe it. When Azriel found you, hiding in a cave not far from the Illyrian camp from which you had escaped, he was shocked at how long you had lasted alone in the woods. It had been weeks now since you had managed to escape what was left of my family, yet you still had not managed to wash away completely the blood of your sisters that had remained under your nails.

After your parents had died, my father in battle and my mother in childbirth, the chief of our tribe had decided to assign you to the only relatives left for you and your sisters namely your uncles, evil and mean people who had only money in mind and how to accumulate more and more of it, and because of this however small you were, you had to start working right away. Also living with you was our mother's mother, a bigoted and unintelligent woman bound by the stupid traditions of the barbaric people of which I am a part, who from early on you knew would present a threat to your wings. Not a day went by when she did not complain that you had not yet bled or find ways to make it happen, but you in response had studied every book and document you could about it and made sure to find every remedy you could to delay the arrival of what would spell the end of your last freedom. And the same you did with your sisters when they began to grow up, honoring the memory of your parents by asking them for help every night.

After spending years and years being a slave, on your twentieth birthday you woke up with red-stained blankets and immediately a new fear took its place in your body. You could already hear voices coming toward the room you shared with your sisters, and without a second thought you had jumped up waking the other two girls and telling them to take what you had prepared to run away. Within minutes you were already running through the woods, looking for a safe place to live for a while until you figured out how to do it. Over time you had also learned to hunt, and so you were not afraid to live in the woods; what you were afraid of was your family.

A little over an hour had passed when you heard voices coming from behind.

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you. You know we have to, it's time for you to become a real woman." Yelled your uncle in an obnoxious, sarcastic voice, and you only increased your pace, which soon turned again into a hopeless race dragging your sisters toward what you hoped would be salvation.

"Do you really think those wings make you somebody! You are nothing if a little slut trying to escape from a future that is already written! Hurry up and I promise I won't rip your wings off, just keep playing hide-and-seek and I'll take all the time I can to do what I want with you!" Yells your uncle again, before laughing out loud. "Do you think we haven't found your stupid plant books, to delay your bleeding, do you think we're that stupid? That alone could be enough of a death sentence for you, do you really want to make your situation worse!?" He continued, and you felt a cold chill run down your spine. For a moment you thought about turning yourself in, then the image of all those girls you had seen suffer or even die for what they had done to their wings came into your mind, and so you began to run even harder, until you found yourself in front of a cave. You had found it a while ago, trying to catch something in the woods, and it had seemed like a good hiding place. You told your sisters to go inside, while you went for a second to retrieve some weapons you had hidden in a hollow log two minutes away from there, intimating to them to keep quiet if they did not want to be discovered. Yet all was in vain.

One minute. Sixty seconds. Twenty blinks. One moment.

It only took a moment to kill your sisters. Your uncle found them, and because they tried to escape he killed them on the spot, stabbing them in the stomach.

You arrived at the moment when you saw the youngest among the three of you fall, the one who being the eldest daughter you had the pleasure of holding first, while the middle one was already on the ground lifeless. You saw in her eyes the life slip away, like sand running through your fingers.

"So you won't run away like your useless sister." Said your uncle, looking at her handiwork before turning away. "Where is he right now, anyway? He abandoned you, he doesn't even have the courage to face me, yet he has the courage to leave you here to die." He continued.

"Turn around asshole, and face your fate." Whispers your sister, dying, amid blood spit on the ground and moans of pain. "I hope his blade is as sharp as your tongue." She continues, before telling you with her lips that she loved you, and then letting the life that animated her flow out of her.

Your uncle turned and for a moment his face was crossed with pure and simple fear, coming the anger that animated your face. A few simple sword movements, and in a few seconds he was in front of you on his knees, praying to your goodness, which in his regard had left you years ago. Blood gushed from his lips like lava from a volcano as you watched life fade away behind his tar-black pupils.

"I hope you will suffer as much as you made us suffer, and that Mother will have a special punishment for you. You killed the only family I had left, and for that I will take from you what you took from me: life." You said, looking down into his eyes. He spat in your face in response.

"Do you think you are so much better than me? You too will take the life of another human being, even your hands will be stained with blood, you and I are not much different." He said, before spitting more blood at my feet. "Besides, do you really think they will not notice that I am not going back to the village? Do you really think they won't come looking for me and find you here with all these dead people? Do you think you'll get away with it? O deluded little bitch, they will kill you, and then there we will be in the same cage before Lucifer."

"See you in hell then." You whispered before finally cutting his neck and letting his blood create a pool at your feet.

For hours you felt like an automaton as you carried your uncle's body out of the cave and buried it not far from there. Once you had stowed away all the earth, you turned to where your sisters still lay and for the first time truly felt their death strike you with an axe blow to the chest, whereas before you were too busy still brooding over anger and revenge. In a few steps you found yourself on the ground, your hands grasping their bloody clothes as you clutched them to your chest, crying hot and bitter tears. You screamed in every language you knew against every deity you remembered, as you begged anyone to take you in their place and let them live their lives. You spent the whole night crying and screaming, so much so that by morning you had no voice left. Once the sun came up you realized what you looked like. Your arms were completely bloody, especially your hands, where blood had even gone under your fingernails. Long minutes passed before you conceived the fact that you had to bury your sisters as well. This time, however, was different. You found a beautiful clearing full of lavender flowers and laughed at the irony. You had always loved lavender very much, and your sisters always teased you about it, and now the place where they would find peace would be just that. You slowly dug two pits next to each other in the shade of a willow tree, and gently placed their bodies, wrapped in blankets, as tears continued to stream down your face. You looked one last time at their bodies, so small and helpless at that moment, before covering them with the earth. Once finished you lay there on top of them, waiting for the dead to come for you too, feeling guilty for their death and for killing a man, seeing the blood still staining your hands. You screamed, cried again as you had done the night before, then you heard a rustling in the plants, and like a vision your sisters appeared to you holding hands with your mother, surrounded by shadows. By now it had become night, but you did not even realize it too engrossed in crying.

Immediately you were frightened by the scene and jumped to your feet, then you calmed down and realized that you had not gone crazy, but there were really them in front of you. You ran toward them, and tried to hug each of them three times, failing, and falling all three times into the void. Immediately the tears came back to you.

"I thought I was dead. I thought I had atoned for my sins, and instead I'm still here. I don't deserve to live, please do something help me." You asked, kneeling in front of them, looking down, and at that moment you felt like a gust of wind settling on your shoulder, so you looked up and saw that your mother had placed her hand on his shoulder and was looking at you fondly.

"My child, do not think that our death is your fault. You, on the contrary, did everything you could do. You must keep fighting, you cannot let yourself go like this. You must live for us, too." She said, but you shook your head, not believing you could.

"I am not so strong mom, I allowed them to hurt them. I-I don't think I can go on alone anymore. I am not strong enough." You whisper, as you go back to slump on the ground.

"Don't even think that. You have come this far, you must live for us too. We will never abandon you, we will become your janitors." She said making a gesture to indicate the shadows that surrounded her and your sisters. As if they understood the topic of conversation they moved toward you, twisting like a snake along your arms, until they reached your ear and whispered something to you. You were not even surprised to understand them, no matter how surreal this situation was. You watched intently as those night-colored pythons came to life around you, until you looked up again and saw that your mother was now retreating with your sisters, back to where they had come from.

"Where are you going!? Don't leave me!" You screamed, getting up and running toward them, but the shadows held you, like worried hands holding someone dear.

"You can't follow us where we go love, now we have to go back where we came from, we have already been away too much according to the rules. Take care dear and remember we love you. Enjoy every second of your life, don't remember the past, create a new future." Those were your mother's last words to you as your sisters waved goodbye, also with tears in their eyes.

At that moment I became a shadowsinger.

And so you returned to being alone, in the middle of the night, surrounded by shreds of darkness that moved with a life of their own.

"My lady must go and wash the blood off her clothes, and she will attract wild animals." The shadows say in your ear, as they urge you to get up. You resist a little at first, to be guided by them, who like an invisible wet nurse took care of you, for the first few days where you still had to get used to the situation. A week later you were fully back to yourself, and nothing could stop you. You kept moving from one place to another so they would not find you until one morning you heard a rustling among the plants, but your shadows that time told you something different that struck you.

"Honey, this time the one chasing us is someone like you." They said, as you were setting a new trap to catch some small game.

"Like us, you mean another shadowsinger?" You asked confused, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to know.

"That's right honey." They replied, before going forward.

A few minutes passed before a man, an Illyrian, emerged from behind the plants, but you soon realized that you did not know him.

"Hello." He said first, smiling slightly as he put his hands forward to show you that he had no hidden weapons to hurt you. "I would just like to talk to you."

You looked at him wary, then you saw a shadow emerge from his back, exactly like those adorning your shoulders, and immediately you felt understood. You saw his shadows go to his ears, as if to report something to him, and immediately his eyes widened as his face changed, looking at you with sorry eyes and a sorrowful smile on his lips.

"You are also like me. "You affirmed as you approached, he without warning embraced you, holding your slender, exhausted body in his mighty arms.

"I'm sorry." He said in a choked voice as he gently stroked your back. "Who has passed away?" He asked, trying to understand how you had managed to get what for him was a curse.

"My mother and sisters. They failed to protect them. My mother I failed to save all those years ago, while the others I left alone, and my uncle killed them." You whispered, as you let go in his arms in a desperate cry.

"Then you really are the girl from the village they are looking for." He said as he looked into your eyes, and you saw tears forming in his, as if he also remembered at this moment a past and distant pain, still alive in him though. "They sent me to find you, saying that a crazy dangerous murderer, but I think they actually are." He continues laughing, before asking another question. "Where is your uncle?"

"I killed him." You said in a hard, impassive voice and then looked at him coldly, or at least tried to, but the fear you were feeling clearly shone through your eyes. "I will accept whatever punishment you want to give me, but please don't take me back there. I ran away because they wanted to clip my wings, and now I'm afraid of what they would have in store for me, and I suspect it's worse than death." You asked, as more tears ran down your face.

He shook his head, before taking off his jacket and laying it on your shoulders.

"My dear, you will come with me, I will never take you back to that shitty place." He said softly as he stroked your face, and for the first time you felt the scars adorning his palms, and you were shocked by the contrast between his soft voice and his rough skin.

"I am Azriel, the High Lord's chief spy, and you will come with me to Velaris, where I will teach you everything I know about the shadows we share. After all, I've always wanted a little sister, and I'm sure Cassian will be impressed with your skills as well." He said, as he pointed you to a place in the forest devoid of trees. "I have to warn you though, we're a little crazy as a family." He continued, but you froze.

"Wait, I have to do something first." You said before running one last time to that lavender field, to which you had gone every day to see your sisters.

"It's not goodbye, it's goodbye. I will be back soon, as soon as I can. I love you all. I will live for you." You confessed at their graves, amid sobs before returning to Azriel.

He looked at you with compassion and together you took off into the air, and only when you arrived in Velaris did you realize that your life had really changed, and that a new adventure was beginning.

"Hey baby all right?" You eventually hear Azriel's voice, concerned, as he leans over the table to take your hands. You are the only one with whom he shows physical affection, trusting only you, and of course Gwyn, whom you regard as a mother.

Over time your relationship has proven to be more like that between a father and a daughter than between a brother and a sister. He has from the very beginning taken care of you, and you of him at times when he needed it, you have always supported each other, and a bond flows between you that is stronger than just a blood bond. You look into his eyes and see his doubt gripping him, but it still does not invade your mind, leaving you space. Nyx also seems to have quieted down. You and he have never gotten along too well, ever since you first met. You have been part of the Inner circle for ten years now, but the two of you only met five years ago, since he was studying on the mainland before that.

He, from the beginning saw you as a rival, and even being a couple of years younger, felt that his place as a protected and beloved prince of the court was being undermined by you.

He never understood the real reason why his uncle took you with them, and that was also because you had never shared your story with anyone outside of Az and his mate, not wanting others to see you as weak.

"Yeah all right, I was thinking about how not to kill that asshole during the mission." You say, trying to sound convincing, and apparently succeeding because everyone is giggling, outside of Az and Nyx who don't look very convinced.

"Oh come on Lucifer, we both know that the better of the two is me." He tries to comment, but you can still read the uncertainty in his eyes not believing your words.

"In your dreams Acheron." You answer, trying to let the nickname pass.

The next day, at dawn you find yourself on a mission in the woods near where you had grown up. A feeling of fear covers your heart and mind ever since you set foot here. Like a flooding river, memories of your childhood wash over you. Rhysand didn't know this place was steeped in trauma for you, or he wouldn't have assigned it to you, but if you had told him, you would have proven yourself unequal to your role as his court's deputy spy chief, unable to separate work and private life.

"We need to go to an Illyrian camp nearby, apparently there has been some insubordination." Nyx tells you, not remembering that you were also at the meeting her father had to describe the mission. "Hey, you look pale, are you okay?" He asks worriedly, turning to look at you.

"Since when do you worry about me Acheron? Aren't you getting soft?" You say, stepping past him as with confident steps of someone who has been down that road a billion times before, you move like a snake, with elegance and fluidity, through the trees of the forest. Out of the corner of your eye you see the boy step into a trap, which has been there since you were a child, which an old hunter always puts in that hole.

"Be careful putting your foot there, there is a trap." You say atonically as you continue walking. He stops and looks carefully at where he was about to walk to see that indeed you were right.

"Well I'd say you're mellowing, too, honey. Is the cold-hearted witch thawing out?" He asks with amusement as you without stopping or turning around give him the middle finger.

"I love you too baby." He continues, in response to your gesture, and you shake your head in response as you can't suppress a silly little smile appearing on your face.

"How did you know there was a trap anyway, it was really very well hidden." Comments the prince of the night, as he takes great strides to catch up with you.

You pause for a second, thinking whether to tell him the truth or tell him to go to hell again. You don't know what is getting into you but this place makes your head spin, and you feel like a poor, lonely, helpless girl again. The shadows surround you like a shield since you arrived, as if they, too, sense the familiarity of that place. You look into his violet eyes, which in the little sunshine coming in through the tree foliage, take on a lavender-like hue, and again it feels as if a prick comes sharply into your stomach and knocks you to the ground.

You see in his expression concern and sincerity, and this sends your system into a tailspin, which, as if it were nothing, opens up a deep, private part of you to him.

"I grew up here, I know these woods well." You say not looking into his eyes, too caught up in your emotions that are running through you right now. The shadows close even tighter between you, almost creating a cocoon.

"I didn't know that." He replies.

"Nobody knows, nobody but Az and Gwyn." You counter.

"He found you here then." The boy affirms, while in the shadows he tries to look around.

"Yes, not far from here." And you almost can't hold between your lips <<and near here I buried my sisters, a little farther away instead is the cave where they died at the hands of my uncle, whom I killed and buried near there>>, but fortunately you manage to hold back.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you really knows what to say, until you decide to confess other things.

"Nyx, the village we are going to is the one I ran away from when I was 20 years old with my sisters. Everyone there hates me, but I don't even think they would recognize me, however, I wanted to tell you before you see doing something stupid and reckless for no reason. At least you know some context, it seemed right to tell you." You say as you resume walking, but he grabs one of your two wrists with his hand and stops you.

"How come you ran away?" He asks with a seriousness you think you've never seen in him before.

"They wanted to take away the only thing that made me free: my wings." You answer with equal seriousness as I see his jaw twitch in anger.

"Who wanted to do this to you? Your parents?" He asks as disgust is evident from his tone.

"No, it's a long story." You try to answer without giving too much information, but immediately you feel something, guilt, making its way inside you. "Maybe someday I will tell you, but this is neither the place nor the time to do so." You continue, before starting to move along the forest. Nyx does not counter and follows your steps silently, always, however, staying close to you and in silence, as if she has that at this moment, the slightest thing could destabilize you and that you need someone right now, who without your asking, should help you survive from drowning in your memories.

You arrive at the village shortly after, and for a moment you feel like you have traveled through time. Nothing has changed since you left, and that gives you the chills. Immediately people begin to look at you askance, and within seconds you find the village chief standing in front of you. He is still the same as when you were there, an elderly gentleman with poor eyesight and a big heart. He was the only one who supported your choice to keep your wings, but the council had overtaken him and there was nothing he could do about it, he had confessed to you once while your family was still waiting for you to bleed, but he was already deciding your future. He looks at you with squinted eyes, trying to focus on your figure.

"Hello, we are here about the small riot that happened here a few days ago. The High Lord sent us." Says Nyx casually, with a smile on his face. You had decided before you left not to say your identities right away, so as not to arouse hatred as soon as you arrived, but you obviously hadn't told Nyx about why, though now he knows.

"Oh certainly, this way guys." Says the elderly gentleman, smiling at us. "But you didn't have to go to all that trouble, it was just a bunch of stupid kids who decided to make some trouble. There was no need for the High Lord to send any of his people, but we really appreciate you coming." He continues, as we cross the main street of the village.

"High Lord Rhysand is keen to let it be known that he is always available to his subjects when needed." Nyx replies very diplomatically, as he has been taught. You stop and stare at him, as you walk along, and think that deep down all those girls falling at his feet are not wrong. He is one of the most handsome boys you have ever seen, if not the most handsome of them all, with those violet eyes and perpetually disheveled night-colored hair. He is smart, but at the same time reckless, funny and kind, in short the perfect boy everyone dreams of. Immediately you freeze, and blush when you realize what you're thinking. You hear the shadows laughing in your ear, hearing your thoughts, and you under your breath curse them. You look around and realize you've stopped in front of what used to be your little piece of heaven: the bookstore. It was a tiny, musty place, and full of dusty old shelves, and run by a sweet and loving little lady, whom you treated like children.

When you were little, you spent hours in there, so much so that eventually the lady hired you as an assistant, making sure that your aunt and uncle didn't force you to stop going to that place to go to work.

It was never very busy, but it had a small circle of trusted customers.

Now, however, it is a ruined place. The window glass is broken, and the now-worn sign has fallen down. The shelves have all fallen, one on top of the other like bodies of soldiers wounded in battle, piled on top of each other. A dusty mist fills the store, while on the ground one can still see marks left by flames, while nothing but ashes remain of the books.

Nyx seeing that you stopped, stops in turn, apologizing to the village chief, and coming to see if you were okay.

"Hey, are you okay Lucifer? If you want, you can wait in one spot, and I'd be back to you in five minutes, I swear I'd be quick and then we'd run right out of here and not look back. You don't have to do all this if you can't." The boy says sympathetically as he takes your hand in his. That gesture makes you turn toward him, and then look at the older gentleman who has also turned back, and he looks at you smiling.

"I felt like I knew that smile." He says, looking at you as he strokes your face with one hand. "It seems like a lifetime since you and your sisters left. I see that life has treated you well." He continues happily, and you feel a pang in your heart.

"Life apparently has only treated me well." You say while remaining vague, and immediately he seems to understand, and with a sweet gesture, typical of a grandfather toward his granddaughter, he kisses your forehead lovingly.

"I'm sorry little witch." He whispers, and you smile at the nickname, which he had given you when you were still playing at making potions out of mud in the camp.

Nyx meanwhile was looking at you more and more confused, but he does not ask you anything, realizing that this is not the time for his questions. The shadows move agitated, too caught up in all those emotions.

"What happened to the bookstore?" You ask worriedly. "Is the lady okay?"

"She passed away shortly after you left. Her family did not take care of the store and let vandals destroy it." Confessed the elderly gentleman, sorry.

You are about to respond, angry at the people who allowed part of your childhood to be set on fire, when you hear a voice from down the street that chills the blood in your veins, that of your aunt.

...to be continued...

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[niningtori]

see me | chapter three: just out of reach

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu's your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au

word count: 2.2k

notes: it's my favorite person's birthday, so of course i have to post. i love beomgyu so much, y'all. also, i really do plan on making a masterlist soon i SWEAR. i just haven't yet :,). see end of work for more notes :)

beomgyu tries every trick in the book, but nothing seems to help. he tries lessening the gap between you physically to see if it translates to emotionally, but you just brush off every encounter like he's some fucking kid tugging on the back of a grownup's shirt.

he puts on the clothes that he knows suit him best, the ones that drive all the girls crazy, but the most you ever do is compliment him with "i like your shirt, beomie!" and ruffle his silky hair just like you always have.

he even tries lowering his already baritone voice and whispering seductively from behind you, but all you do is ask him if there's something in his throat and giggle as his breath tickles your ear. it feels like he's putting on an entire monkey show for a brick wall, that's about how unresponsive you are to his advances. he almost wonders how you even got into your past relationships in the first place because you seem so oblivious it hurts.

"quick, what else can i do to get her to fall for me?" he texts his friends in a crisis. the trip is over tomorrow and he's made no material progress. he looks to them for the millionth time this week and by now they're all thinking the same thing: it's hopeless. still, the more pitying ones, kai and soobin, tiptoe around that thought while yeonjun and taehyun tell him in no uncertain terms that this entire endeavor is fruitless. it stings, if he's being honest, but in a way, he kind of knows they're right. he's becoming increasingly less subtle, but you seem to be unmoved by every action.

-

"why don't we go to a bar tonight?" yijun suggests in honor of your last night of vacation.

"i'm in," jia replies with a smile.

you heartily agree and decide to dress yourself up a little more than usual. your self confidence has taken yet another blow from yet another unfaithful partner, so the act of putting on makeup and a pretty outfit does wonders for your confidence, but beomgyu is more anxious than ever when he spots you in the outfit you've chosen for the bar. you're always pretty to him, as cliché and insincere as that may sound, but he knows you'll be turning even more heads than usual tonight. he imagines a man piquing your interest right in front of him and it makes his stomach churn. no way in hell is he gonna let that happen —

— is what he says, at least. but some random stranger piquing your interest is the least of his worries now that you're actually at the bar. never in his wildest dreams did he foresee what is actually happening before him right now, which is you being pulled away with a dazed look on your face by none other than doyoon himself.

"what the fuck is he doing here?" and it sounds so much like his own inner monologue he almost thinks it was he himself who said it, but he turns and sees jia with her signature scowl and knows it was actually her.

"that's what i wanna know," beomgyu mumbles.

"who is that?" yijun asks cluelessly.

"that's doyoon," jia answers with venom laced in her tone.

"oh shit, the doyoon?"

"the one and only," jia sneers. "fuck it, i'm going to get her!"

"baby, no," yijun reasons incredibly patiently. "you've gotta let her make decisions for herself. let her do what she needs to do."

"what she needs to do is get her ass back here."

"don't you trust her?" he asks with a frown.

"when it comes to doyoon? nope. not at all." beomgyu flinches at this. he'd been there and heard firsthand just how desperate you were to keep a connection with doyoon after your breakup. there were countless times when he overheard jia scolding you for texting him even after he essentially ripped your heart out, set it ablaze, and stomped on the ashes.

"you shouldn't have to beg somebody to love you, you know?" he remembers jia reasoning.

"i know that, it's just — i just really love him. i don't know who i am without him," you said between tears.

"that's exactly why you don't need him," jia replied softly.

he stopped listening after that. his heart broke with yours for the first — and certainly not the last — time.

beomgyu can't take it. honestly? you haven't even been gone for very long, but when he thinks of the fact that you're out talking to doyoon of all people, he can't help but take a large gulp of whatever liquor he can get his hands on. he's very obviously staring at you talking to doyoon, but you seem without a care in the world if the smile on your face is any indication as to how you're feeling. he can feel the fiery alcohol bubbling up in his stomach as it churns at the possibilities of what could be happening between you two. are you letting him back into your life? does that sentiment even apply when his mark seems to have never really left in the first place? he doesn't know. if he thinks about it carefully, maybe he never wants to know.

-

"how are you?" doyoon asks with the charming smile you used to love so much.

"i..." you hesitate to answer. if you're being honest, you're not doing too hot at the moment and haven't been in a very long time. doyoon seems to take your hesitation as an answer in and of itself.

"yeah, i'm not doing so well, either," he says with a ghost of a smile.

"really?" you ask, head whipping up towards him before you can reel yourself back in. doyoon was always doing well, and even when he wasn't, nobody would be able to tell.

"really."

"why not?" you can't help but ask.

"if i told you my career is at a dead end, would you laugh and tell me i deserve it?"

"... i don't know."

"thank you for not knowing instead of just saying you would," he laughs. "you know, you're a lot kinder than i ever deserved for you to be." you're taken aback by this. you can't believe he's referencing your past relationship in a positive way. after your one-sided breakup, you tried to keep in contact with him in every way possible until he straight up told you you were being pathetic. his words, not your own. what you're even more surprised at, however, is how much you don't care. your heart doesn't seem to clench at the mere sight of his face, let alone at his emotionally provocative words.

"you know, i have no right to say this, but i'm going to, anyway. i'm sorry for what i did to you. really, i am. and if you ever want to get a drink with me sometime, i'd really like to make it up to you."

"i can't believe you have the nerve to say that to me," you counter without missing a beat, shocking even yourself. it only takes you about a millisecond to realize how much you mean it, though. doyoon is floored, to say the very least, but he regains his composure smoothly, just like he always does.

"i figured, but i still thought i'd ask. i know you have someone now, too. i guess it's shameless of me to ask." you stare at him quizzically. could he be talking about donghyun? he can't be. there's no way he'd know about him.

"what do you mean?"

"oh wow, i'm surprised he hasn't told you yet."

"wait, what? who?" you're a little tipsy, so his circuitous way of talking is making your head spin.

"well, if you don't know, i'm sure you will soon," he smirks as he locks eyes with beomgyu, who is currently glaring daggers at him from across the bar.

"i'll let you go," he sighs. "it was nice talking to you, even if you secretly want me to fuck off and never speak to me again." you actually crack a smile at this.

"you know what? it was nice talking to you, too."

you needed this. you needed some tangible closure and you finally have it. as you walk back to your party, you feel lighter than you have in a long, long time. you're finally prepared to fully let go.

-

the night sky is alight with white stars and the salty air is cool against your bare legs. the sound of waves billowing back and forth lull you into a trance, but your reverie is broken by the sound of someone stumbling behind you.

"beomie?"

"hi," he greets a little too loudly while plopping down beside you unceremoniously. you can't help but giggle at how drunk he is. what a cute kid, you think.

"what are you doing out here so late? you should be sleeping it off by now," you tease, nudging his shoulders with yours. you almost notice him lean into your touch, but you don't quite catch it.

"just wanna think," he says.

"about what?"

"a lot of things," he shrugs. you hum in understanding.

"you know, we never got to finish our conversation the other day. what's been bugging you lately?"

he pauses for a moment.

"i'm kinda hung up on someone, honestly," he admits with a lopsided smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and you're genuinely stunned. he's never been particularly open about any girls he's been involved with, though there have been many based on what jia says. you'd be lying if you said you're not curious to know what kind of girl has the power to make the seemingly impenetrable beomgyu anxious, but you're mainly worried about how he's feeling.

"oh no, what happened?" you ask, sincerely concerned.

"nothing happened," he deadpans. "nothing ever happens. that's the problem." your brows knit in confusion.

"so you haven't made a move on her? why?" you can't fathom why beomgyu of all people would feel like this. he's never seemed to have an issue with getting whoever and whatever he wanted.

"i've tried, but i don't think she's interested in me in that way," he hints as nonchalantly as he can manage in his decidedly not-so-sober state. truthfully, he's not doing the best job at being discreet, either. but you don't notice a thing.

"i don't think that's true. i'm sure if you opened up to her she'd like you. you just have to be vulnerable and who knows? maybe she's interested but just doesn't know how to say it. she probably thinks you don't like her, honestly." his hazy eyes light up with hope. do you know you're the girl in question? are you both talking around the same point?

"you really think so?" he asks, heart racing. even through his drunkenness, he's putting the pieces together, albeit incorrectly.

"of course i do! i mean, you're a catch," you giggle and his heart flutters. "just be yourself and i'm sure you'll get somewhere with her. you can be so hard to read sometimes. maybe she just needs a little push?" the next second, your breath hitches as you feel warm lips latching onto yours. beomgyu is gripping your face with an intensity you've never known before. his lips are nice and warm, if a little chapped, while his eyes are scrunched shut with his long, dark eyelashes trembling in the moonlight. you gasp when he trails his hand down to the small of your back and he takes the opportunity to enter your mouth with his alcohol-laden tongue wrapping around yours. it's easy to melt into the feeling of pure heat with someone, especially when you're tipsy, so you do. you feel yourself melting further into his touch, but when he moans into the kiss, you finally register exactly who that someone is and push him off in a hurry.

"what the hell are you doing?!" you exclaim. you're panting now, face flushed and lips swollen, all thanks to him. he's absolutely fascinated by that fact. hypnotized, even.

"what do you mean?" he asks while blinking his big, watery eyes. he looks so innocent you almost can't believe he's the one who was snaking his tongue down your throat mere moments ago. oh. his tongue was down your throat mere moments ago. the thought itself has you sputtering out questions before your mind can quite catch up.

"w-what do you mean what do i mean? why'd you k-kiss me?"

"'cause i wanted to. 'cause i love you."

the world around you implodes and alarms blare in your ear. what the hell? you've only ever seen beomgyu as a good friend and maybe even a brother, but this? this was simply unprecedented. you would've never in a million years guessed that he harbored even a fraction of a non-platonic feeling for you. he must be drunk out of his fucking mind.

"i just love you so much," he slurs with his lisp in full effect. it's almost as if he can hear your thoughts and is intent on dispelling them.

you hesitate to reply and have the sorriest look on your face, so even in his current state he immediately understands that he misread the signs.

"beomie," you begin slowly and he winces. "i don't—"

"hey, i know. you don't have to tell me. i know," he says simply. "i was the one who misunderstood. you can forget this ever happened." he rises from your side and starts to walk away.

"beomie, wait!" you exclaim.

and, of course, he waits. you've always been able to gently twist his heartstrings in between your fingertips.

"yes?"

"i'm just.. i just don't want to lose you. you mean so much to me."

"you won't." and you never will. that's the problem.

you're at a loss for words, but he just smiles as if he already understands everything you can't seem to verbalize and it breaks your heart. why does it feel like he's the one babying you? with that, he turns away and resumes walking back to the house. you don't stop him this time. you don't have the guts to.

notes pt. 2: r u mad at me? i know i said this will probably be the final chapter, but there's so much more to say. i'm thinking there will probably be one or two more before i finally feel like the story has run its course. also, my pacing is so shit but i'm working on it <3 bear with me please! also, feedback is always appreciated! i'm a words of affirmation kind of gal.