#it’s so fucking funny like the entire group knows i’m the alcoholic but ALSO a CRIPPLE

[bibleofficial]

honestly ? obsessed w my tour guide. she’s so sweet & she makes me feel like i SHOULD be a tour guide or an assistant to showing people abroad - like i asked for a towel in italian & she said i sounded good & this is also after she recommended me to become a tour guide like 😭😭 yall ! guess i’ve a job !!!

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [ii]

"Blood sticks, sweat drips, break the lock if it don't fit, a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you signed up to help tara with her stupid plan. not whatever the hell one would call this.

warnings: implied sex, use of alcohol, puking, arguing loudly and wrongly, curse words(?)

word count: 5.2k

A/N: sorry to make you wait so long, but here's the second part. there will probably be a third, so fear not, the story doesn't end here. i originally thought i would be able to just end it off right here, but it’s going kind of really well and i think a third or maybe even a fourth part is more reasonable

===+++===

===+++===

For almost the entire walk to the frat house, Tara didn't actually say much. It surprised you too, the way she just glanced around the city that passed as you walked and fiddled with her nails. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but you were so used to Tara having something to say that it made you speak instead.

"Wow, for once, you're speechless," you commented as you passed under a streetlight. Tara shot you a glare, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Would it kill you to shut the hell up?"

“There we go, back to normal. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” she scoffed. “Mind your own business.”

"I'm just saying."

"Well don't say. Don't say."

===+++===

The party fucking sucked. It was quintessential college, with frat boys who attempted to yell over the loud music that rattled your eardrums. Coolers upon coolers of shitty, cheap beer sat against the far wall, and a crowd had gathered around them to pick off all the free alcohol they could. Maybe a year ago this would’ve been fun. Now you found yourself disenchanted with the ordeal.

Tara was off god knows where, doing god knows what, which you figured was the point of the arrangement anyway. You weren’t too concerned with tracking her down, especially if situation also presented itself as a pleasant bonus— not having to put up with her.

Chad had wandered out of the room when he saw you and Tara arrive together hand in hand, going deeper into the party without a word. He was usually the one you hung around with at these kinds of things, but he had been a sad little dog with his tail between his legs since you and Tara announced you were meant to be a few days before the party. It seemed some of your friends were still adjusting.

The immediate reaction after Tara said “soooo, we’re together,” was to laugh, like you two were doing a bit. It got less funny when they saw you both blankly staring back at them and then Tara grabbed your hand and held it up with a forced smile.

The whole group was going through a somewhat awkward seven stages of grief thing. Chad was avoiding you completely, Quinn was a bit annoyed you were off the market now after an egregious few months of hitting on you, and Ethan was the only one to be a bit normal, even though it was clear he too had a crush on Tara and was disappointed with the matter.

When Mindy had gotten over her disbelief, she dove right into an endless game of questions, only occasionally staved off by Anika. "So who confessed first?" had been one of the first ones, accompanied by a glint in her eye. Tara jumped in before you could even open your mouth, eager to answer.

"(Y/n) showed up on my porch, all sweaty and disgusting looking, just smelling so unbelievably bad it was overpowering-”

“I had been working out,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s why I was sweaty."

“Mhm, whatever. Anyways, apparently they were just being such an asshole because they were in love with me," Tara said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. "Right?"

You had to hide your glare behind your solo cup. "Mhm. I was just overflowing with it. I have so many things to say about you."

“All nice things,” Tara corrected.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Was it?”

“Uh huh.”

Mindy’s questions followed you everywhere she did. Who kissed who first? Who’s more cuddly? Have you guys slept together yet? They volleyed back and forth and you and Tara fought for the first word each time to pin it to the other with gleeful sadism. Of course, it was then flipped around once the next question came and you would huff in annoyance at the other for being an asshole.

It wasn’t as bad of an arrangement as you had dreaded. You only had to be couple-y when other people were watching you two interact, or when Sam would glare in suspicion. Hold hands a few times, smile, share a glance. Other than that, things stayed mostly the same. The group probably appreciated you both not acting head over heels for the other and you liked it because it meant you didn't have to pretend to like her.

Tara had a brazen way about her that made you roll your eyes. She never took no for an answer, had a teasing remark for anything, and always felt the need to be doing something. Other people seemed to find themselves charmed by it. Others, but not you. Never you.

The walk there had been about all she could take of your personality, and the moment after you two were seen together, she ditched you at the door and wandered off to the dance floor. After that you had lost track of her, and ended up splitting your time between the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front room, away from the crowd. Mindy found you there, tugging Anika along with her.

"Cut the bullshit," She said with an eye roll, sitting right down on the couch in front of you. Anika plopped down next to her. "There's no way in hell you got together with Tara."

You grinned, sipping your beer and partially using it to block your expression. "No, we're together. I really like her."

Mindy scoffed. "You're a terrible liar." Your cheeks warmed and you tilted your head to the side.

"We have to separate you two like warring chihuahuas every time we hang out together," Anika said. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in a study of your face. "You're not confessing your undying love."

"I did."

"You didn't!" Mindy said, and she threw up her arms.

"I did."

"You didn't," Anika snorted.

"I...," you looked at them both, "...are you guys going to snitch?"

"Snitch to who?" asked Mindy. Now they were both leaned in, like eager children around a campfire. You swallowed.

"Sam." Mindy blinked. Then she sat back.

"What the hell did Tara get you involved in?" she asked. As much as Sam was part of your group, it was known not to fuck with her, and that's exactly what Tara was making you do.

You frowned. If anyone was going to ruin the plan, it probably wouldn't be Mindy or Anika. "You can't tell Chad, but we're not actually together."

Anika raised her eyebrows and shot Mindy a glance. "That didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out." You shrugged.

"Well, we fooled Sam. Tara needs a fake partner so she can go to parties and see people and stuff. And, well, you know how Sam is about that stuff."

Mindy crossed her arms. "And you said sure?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I didn't really see why not. Plus, she was being super annoying about it. Showed up at my house. She was begging, almost."

"So, you what, took pity?" Anika asked, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes.

"Trust me, it's not because it's fun. She's way too annoying and she'd probably say the same thing about me."

Mindy frowned, looking out the doorway and into the booming party. "Chad wouldn't like it."

You sent her a worried look. "Please please please, don't tell Chad. I know he's upset by the whole thing, but Sam would literally kill me if she knew I was helping Tara run around town."

"I don't know...," she said. "I know Tara wants freedom, but this is kind of bullshit, (Y/n)."

"It won't be for long. She just wants to meet someone. When she does, it's over. Life goes back to normal."

"Do you guys have a target in mind, or something?" Anika asked, a bit amused.

"Not even a little a bit. It’s like, her second party ever,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s really dead set on a person yet.”

“Well… she better figure it out soon.”

“Mhm.” You looked out the same glass door and into the booming party outside. Through the jumping crowd, you could see in the distance Tara, who was dancing with her eyes shut and a smile spread wide across her cheeks. She looked happy like that.

You took a swig of your beer.

===+++===

The boom of a fist on your door shook the thin walls of your apartment, and you jolted awake to hear three more hit the wood.

“OPEN UP (Y/N), NOW!”

Immediately, a headache washed over you and you groaned. You tried to smush your head into the pillow to make it go away but there were the banging fists again, and you sat up, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“OPEN THE FUCK UP,” came the voice again, and you blinked. Oh shit. You knew that voice. You clambered to your feet and stumbled out your bedroom and down the hall in a dusty pair of shorts and shirt. “I’M NOT KIDDING! OPEN THE—”

You pulled the door open like a deer in headlights, seeing Sam seethe on the other side with her fist raised. Nostrils flared, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. She looked about ready to rip your head off.

“You,” she said, spitting the word. You flinched. “Where the fuck is Tara?!”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Had she not gone home the night before?? Things felt a little bit fuzzy still. You remembered grabbing another beer from Ethan and flopping down in an armchair, then another and another, and then maybe wandering home while the sun started to rise. Had you seriously lost track of the attempted murder victim on her first night out???

You blinked, already aware that your cheeks were a dusty pink. "I, uh... she, um..."

Her hands went to her hips, glaring at you expectantly. "Well?! Where the hell is my sister?!" When you were still staring like an idiot, she threw up her arms. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her! This is what I get"

You stared, feeling a lie (though probably a clunky one) come to your brain. "I think her phone must've died, but she just left."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but you weren't sure if it was in disbelief or even more rage. "What do you mean?"

"We, um," your eyes went to the floor, feeling her glare laser itself into you as you spoke. "We got super drunk last night at the party, and I brought her back here and we both fell asleep," you looked back up to see her giving your pyjamas a once over, nose wrinkled. You flushed. "No! No— we didn't do that. We just fell asleep."

Sam looked at you for a moment, then crossed her arms. "I waited all night for her, you know," she said.

You nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"It won't." Sam repeated. "When I don't hear from her for a whole night, you know what I assume happened, right? You know how that feels?"

You swallowed. "I do."

She sighed. "I'm really trying here. I know she doesn't want me worrying about her, and I know she wants freedom. So I'm trying, (Y/n). Don't make me regret it."

"I won't, Sam." It felt like a giant wedge in your throat, and you tried to smile at her but she continued to frown, and she turned around and walked off. The moment she was gone, you spun around and slammed the door. You dashed through your apartment, grabbing your phone off your nightstand and quickly pulling up her contact.

Little Shit (do not pick up). You pressed the button and put it up to your ear, wandering over to the nearby curtain and lifting it to look out onto the city. "Come on, come on," you pleaded aloud. "Fucking pick up, asshole."

After the third ring and a good prayer to god even though you weren't especially religious, it stopped ringing and you could hear her grumbling.

"Tara??" you rushed. "Tara, where are you?"

"Mmm," she groaned, "the hell do you want so early?"

You scoffed. "Tara it's almost noon." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Uh huh," you grunted. "Your sister just almost ripped my door off it's fucking hinges because she doesn't know where you are. And you know what, neither do I!" There was some shuffling from her end, and then what sounded like running footsteps.

"I went home with this girl last night, I just woke up," she rushed. "Sam is going to kill me!"

"She almost killed me!" You almost yelled into the phone. Now that the worry had subsided you were left with anger. "She almost killed me because you wandered off and didn't go home."

"It's not like I meant to fall asleep," she argued back, and you could hear some talking in the background in faint voices. "I must've slept through my alarm— wait, what did you tell Sam?"

"That your phone died, and you were on your way home."

"WHAT?! (Y/n), this girl's apartment is at least fifteen to twenty minutes away," Tara said into the phone.

"Well it's not like I knew that, now is it?" you shot back, scratching your arm, "considering I didn't know if you were even alive until you picked up."

"God, not you too. I'm fine, drama queen."

"Drama queen?"

"Yeah, drama queen," Tara repeated, and more noises flooded in. It sounded as if she was in the city now, walking, "you sound just like Sam. I picked you because I thought you knew I didn't need a babysitter."

"That's not being babysat, Tara. That's making sure you're not dead," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fine!" you shot back.

"Awesome."

You sighed into the speaker. "Pick up some flowers or something on your way back. Claim that's why you're late."

"Good idea, actually," Tara hummed.

"I know." And you hung up.

===+++===

You found yourself at an identical party the very next Friday night too, and the Friday after that, and after that too. The walls were just as stained. It smelled just as full of mold. This one didn't have a front room for you to barricade in, so you sat at the bar top instead, in the kitchen with your chin rested on the cool granite.

It had taken a whole night to get rid of the hangover from a few weeks before, and in doing so you had remembered why it was exactly that you didn't find these things too fun, anyways. You hadn't gotten anywhere near as drunk since. Mindy and Anika had decided on date night instead, and Chad and Ethan were off to watch a movie that originally you would've been invited to, had it not been for Tara.

It was painful, that Chad was ducking you. The irony wasn't lost, that the more time you spent with your fake girlfriend at parties and outings like a couple, the closer you got to actually repairing your relationship with him. You still would've rather gone to the movie, though.

You could actually see Tara, from where you sat. Through the bar window in the kitchen, she was on the dance floor, moving along with the rhythm of hard EDM as best she could. It was a giant mob of people, all clumped up and hopping around in excitement, and you didn't especially want to be out there.

As you watched, a guy came up behind Tara, tapping her on the shoulder and smiling down at her. You thought nothing of it, until you got a longer look at the guy's face. In the revolving, multicoloured lights that hung over the crowd, you recognised him in an instant, standing straight up and weaving your way through the party.

"You having fun, Carpenter?" He asked, with a douche-y smirk on his face as he said it. You rolled your eyes, coming up behind Tara and standing right behind her.

"I—" but you interrupted her.

"She is, Frankie," you shot, staring at him and crossing your arms. Tara whipped around to you with a glare.

"(Y/n), go away," she whispered loudly. But you stood your ground.

"Tara, literally anyone but him. I mean, anyone—"

"That's not your decision."

"Sam tased him in the balls last time. I mean, come on, you have to know he's a douche."

Frankie scoffed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"(Y/n) is just a—"

"—We're dating," you interrupted again. "So fuck off."

"No, we aren't," Tara shook her head. "Not really."

"Yes, we are," you nodded at Frankie. "Please leave. She's not sleeping with you tonight." He frowned, but started to walk off.

"That's not your decision, asshole!" Tara scowled and she reached out an arm to stop him. "Frankie, stay. You know what, I wasn't going to, but I will now."

"Frankie, leave. I mean it, you creep." You turned to her and glared. "Tara, listen to me, you—"

"No! Frankie, stay. Maybe I need the company," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. Frankie looked between you both, as did a few other people in the room who were starting to notice.

"They literally call him Date-Rape-Frankie, Tara. There's no way in hell you're sleeping with Date-Rape-Frankie. Frankie, leave."

"Frankie, no, stay. Well, what if I want to?"

"Then you're being stupid."

"Bold choice of words coming from you! You're not my mother."

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Tara. I'm using basic common sense. That guy is a creep and a perv," you pointed to him.

"Hey!" Frankie interjected, raising a hand to your shoulder.

"Fuck off!" you and Tara said in unison, dismissing him to glare right at each other.

"Well maybe I deserve the freedom to sleep with weirdos and whoever I want! I mean, who are you, the fucking sex-Nazi?"

"I don't have a problem with literally anyone else, Tara, but he's a weirdo!"

"Well then let me make that call! I'm not five. You don't need to baby me, I know he's a weirdo!" People were definitely staring now. You were both shouting, but a lot of it was drowned out by the EDM. It didn't stop others watching you point in each others faces and scowl.

"It's not babying you, Tara! It's basic caring! You have no clue about this shit, this is like your fourth party ever!"

"I've managed this far, haven't I?!"

"What, you want a cookie?!"

"Yeah, maybe I fucking do! I'm an adult, asshole! Let me do adult shit!"

"Wow, it's so adult and mature of you, to sleep with creeps and get hungover every Friday. How adult."

"Well, maybe it's not, but who gives a shit! I'm having fun for once! I'm being free without a fucking serial killer on my ass! I know you can't relate, but Christ, take the stick out from your ass!"

"Real nice," you shook your head. "This is what I get for helping you. Of fucking course." Before she could reply, you turned around and headed out the sliding glass door, into the fenced-in backyard. There was a pool back there, and you collapsed into a wrought iron pool chair, right near the edge.

People watched you warily, as you sat out there, but within minutes, the party was resumed. Even from outside, you could hear the thumping bass shake the windows gently as the glass moved in the panes.

There was a faint scent of petrichor from the small patch of grass out there, and the sky rumbled in the distance. It was peaceful out there, with small hanging fairy lights and the pool in front of you. You propped your legs up on the glass table and tried not to scream.

This was exactly what you should've expected, from Tara. Of course she would be selfish. Of course she would be brash. A part of you wasn't surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. You just sat there and tried to cool your breathing, watching the city lights in front of you.

You must've sat like that for an hour or two, just watching the city. It didn't feel like long enough. You might've even felt at peace, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Um...excuse me?" You craned your neck around, looking up in your chair to see a concerned guy looking down at you.

"Are you (Y/n)?" He asked, awkwardly scratching his neck. You nodded, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Do we know each other?"

"No! No, I was asked by Tara, I think was her name? She wanted me to get you. She's your girlfriend, right?"

The worry came back, and you stood up. "Why, what happened? Where is she?" Sam was really going to kill you.

"She's in the guest bathroom, I think she's sick."

===+++===

"Tara?"

"(Y/n)?" you heard a very uneasy voice on the other end.

"Can I come in?" you asked, and when there was no response, you let yourself inside. She was on the other end of the massive bathroom, leaned up against the bathtub with her head close to the toilet bowl.

Tara looked absolutely green, with her hair sweatily stuck to her forehead and eyes barely open. "Christ Tara, how much did you have to drink?" you asked in worry, coming to stand over her.

"Oh, just—" she gagged like she was about to puke and you bent down to grab her and tug her towards the toilet bowl. You spun back to the guy in the doorway, who stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Can you get me some crackers and Gatorade?" you asked him, sending a hopeful glance. He nodded and closed the door, and you turned back to Tara, who was bent over the toilet bowl.

You moved her gently and lifted the toilet seat up. "Are you okay?" you asked with a frown. You felt like an idiot the moment it left your mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look okay?" Tara mumbled.

"Well, no."

"Thass' good," she slurred. "I had too many," she hiccupped. You nodded.

"I'd say so. How much did you have Tara?"

She giggled. "This many." She held up four fingers with a giant, toothy grin and slumped with her arms encircling the toilet bowl.

"Since when?" you blinked.

"Since you got allllllllll pissy!" You sighed, hands going to her hair and pulling it back. She wrinkled her nose at you. "Why are you touching my hairrrrr?!"

"So you don't vomit all on it, idiot," you replied, shaking your head. Tara huffed.

"I'mnuh gonnuh puke."

And then Tara puked. Everywhere.

===+++===

You both sat there, that way, for about ten minutes. Tara vomited three times, during that span, and when she was done, you handed her the crackers and Gatorade and told her to do her worst.

She downed them in another fifteen minutes, sitting in the bathtub and eating while you sat leaned up against the bathroom wall, across from her, just in silence. The sounds of the party seemed to have died a little bit as the night droned on, and by now people would be wandering home or to someone else’s place.

While you waited, you shot Sam a text, letting her know you’d bring Tara home and that she was okay. Sam didn’t reply but she saw the message, and you figured that was good enough. When you checked the weather app, Tara finally spoke, coming to her senses a bit with more food in her system.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the package for the crackers in her hand. “Thanks.”

You shrugged, staring at the toilet in front of you. It probably reeked in there, but at this point you were nose blind. “For what?” You meant for that to be it, just a small little acknowledgment, but Tara shook her head.

“Thank you for that. For being here.”

She stared right at you when she said it, and you knew she meant it with conviction. You nodded. “I know we don’t always get along, but I had your back, back there.”

“You have my back?” she asked, smiling a little and grabbing her Gatorade from the edge of the tub.

“I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “You did, yeah.” Tara looked over at you, then tilted her head to the side. “I still don’t get why, though.”

“You were honest, for once.” It came from a surprising place, and you said it before you entirely knew you were speaking. You didn’t completely know what it meant either, until after you said it, but the words passed between you almost like a new understanding.

A few moments of silence came and went, before she spoke again. “I walk silently places at night in case I hear I’m being followed. By Ghostface. Same thing as when I’m home alone. I don’t do it as much anymore, but I still do it sometimes. Don’t tell Sam, please please please. She’ll make me go to therapy.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding gently. You leaned your head back up against the wall, craning it up to look at the ceiling.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked. You laughed, tracing the popcorn pattern of the roof with your eyes.

“I’m not the devil, Tara.”

“…Neither am I.”

“I know,” you said, and you reached your arm out for a cracker. She gave you one and you crunched down on it, while an especially large bass hit came from the speakers outside. “God, this music fucking sucks,” you groaned.

Tara nodded. “It’s really hard to dance to.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it didn’t seem like you were struggling earlier.”

Tara frowned, then tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s your favourite song?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Okay… you’re going to laugh, though.”

“Am I?” she grinned. You nodded.

“Do you know that one song, The Promise, by When In Rome? It’s from the 80s, it’s super cheesy?”

She stared off for a moment, in thought, then shook her head. “Don’t think so, how’s it go?”

You rolled your eyes, but began to quietly sing it in a tone that wavered in between spoken word and humming. It was terrible and you were tone deaf, but it was the song. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a straaanger. You know in the end,” your voice broke a little at the low note, and Tara giggled but you continued, “I’ll always be thereee.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. And then it skips a little bit and the chorus goes, ‘I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to beee.’”

She cut you off with her hand, laughing hysterically. You felt your cheeks flushed, and in any other time you would’ve been annoyed with her laughing at you. But this didn’t feel mean. You just smiled right back.

“That was good, actually,” she managed, between small laughs. “Why is it your favourite?”

“Um,” you shrugged, “my brother used to sing it to me, years ago when I was scared.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Tara said, leaning her head on the tile wall of the tub.

“I have six.”

She blinked, then sat up straight. “Since when?!”

“Always, Carpenter,” you shrugged. “Everyone knows.”

“Everyone who?”

“Chad, Mindy, Anika. Even Quinn.”

“I didn't know. How come you never talk about them?”

”I just don’t,” you frowned. Tonight was definitely not the night to get into that. Instead, you pivoted topics. “Why, what’s your favourite song? I showed you mine, now you’ve got to show me yours.”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure that’s not how that saying is used,” she laughed, “but fine. When I was crying as a baby, my mom sung me this song, called Baby, I Love You by The Ronettes.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

Tara shook her head. “Probably not, but they’re the same group that does that one song Be My Baby?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Apparently my mom had Baby, I Love You playing in the hospital, when I was born and everything. It’s kind of comforting. When I miss her, I play it.”

“How often is that?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, considering she’s a giant asshole.”

"That's always how it is."

"Mhm... and just so you know, I know Frankie was a creep. I wasn't actually going to do anything with him. Just flirt. Have fun."

"I know. I wasn't trying to babysit you, I just wanted to warn you. That creep has so many stories."

"I know. I just don't like being told what to do, sometimes. It's a whole thing. I'm working on it, seriously."

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything at all. You both sat in what you assumed was a prolonged silence, until you looked down finally to see Tara’s eyelids falling heavy.

You stood up with a sigh. “You should go home.” There was no reply, and you checked out the small window in the bathroom to still see it was pitch black out. It was definitely too late to send her home this sleepy, and after the incident a few weeks ago, there was no way Sam would let her stay at yours. “Tara,” you nudged her.

She groaned, rolling over in the tub and snuggling up. You rolled your eyes, then looked out the window one more time with an annoyed grumble.

===+++===

The longer you had to walk with her on your back, the more you regretted this. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, face pressed onto the back of your shoulder and knees held up by your hands. You couldn’t see her, but you knew her eyes were shut and she was super close to being actually asleep.

"We make a good team, you know," she mumbled into your shoulder. You knew she was being funny, but you were too tired to laugh as you trudged up the hill. Carrying a drunk girl home was not at all what you had anticipated of the night, and though it had been shitty at the beginning and shitty until almost the very end, you could definitely say it wasn't shitty right then.

When you arrived at her apartment complex, Tara was soundly asleep and Sam came out to meet you both, taking her sister from you and stumbling with her towards the door. In the distance, right over another hill, the sky was already beginning to lighten up a bit.

Right as both Carpenters reached the door, Tara stopped for a moment to turn back to you with a smile. "Thanks, babe," she said with a cheeky grin that was only half awake. You smiled back.

"You too, babe."

Sam rolled her eyes, pulling Tara through the door. It was a pleasant night, still with the same faint scent of rain oncoming. In your weird, newfound peace as you walked home yourself, you didn't see that Quinn was watching you from the upstairs window.

===+++===

so that was fun lmao. anyways there will be a part 3 but you and tara are kind of maybe friends now? now it's time for feelings 😈

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | THREE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 23.6K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff, ANGST, and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, some other members are featured, drinking alcohol, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, sweetheart, etc.), possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, cunnilingus, hickeys, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, creampie(s), jealousy, blackmail ♡ A/N - I’m soooo sorry this took me forever to write (it’s so many words ahhh 🫠) but hopefully this is worth the wait. The next part will be the finale of this series. This also isn't beta read so I apologize for mistakes ahhh. I love ya’ll, thank you for your patience friends, STREAM GOLDEN HOUR ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“You could at least try a little harder to pretend you want to be here with me, ____.”

Wooyoung’s antsy fingers pinch at the straw of his drink while he watches you thumb away at your phone. Going back and forth with your friends in the group chat about Jongho’s upcoming recital is the only thing calming your nerves this afternoon. When you had agreed to his ruse, you didn’t realize you were signing up for public humiliation. Those two words might be a bit dramatic, but sitting together in the dead center of the campus food court has you immensely anxious either way. This is entirely way too public…

You don’t mean to offend him with your embarrassment. It’s not like Wooyoung isn’t handsome; in fact, that might make things worse. It helps draw in too much unnecessary attention from other women, and it feels as though there might as well be a spotlight circling your table. Luckily, Yunho has a lecture through the next hour today, so you’re not too concerned on that front. Regardless, your first fake date with him is starting to be nothing short of awkward. 

“You can’t even look me in the eyes?” He inquires further.

“I’m sorry,” you find it within yourself to apologize, placing your phone face down on the table and sliding it away. To offset your anxiety, you put new effort into inspecting your food and preparing to finally eat it. Anything to just keep busy. “This is just a little out of my comfort zone.”

“Pretend I’m Mr. Jeong if that makes it easier,” he suggests, but his tone hangs on the edge of condescension. It’s not all that intentional, but he’s poking the bear. “I have access to the grade book all the same, you know.”

With narrowed eyes, you try to let his wisecrack roll off your shoulder, “That’s not a very funny joke.”

Continuing to avoid his eyes, Wooyoung watches you put all your attention into eating the meal he’s bought you so that you both can pretend to be on this lunch date. He was gracious enough to offer to pay for any meals you share moving forward, as long as it would make things easier on you while being a part of his plan. That’s what a real boyfriend would do anyway, right? Though, right now you’re not treating him like a boyfriend— you’re treating him like some kind of dirtbag with an open wallet. He can feel his own appetite slipping away slowly but surely.

“What are you both anyway, fuck buddies?” He asks a little too bluntly.

It might be a bit muffled, as your mouth is stuffed with food, but you still manage to retort, “That’s none of your business, actually.”

His increasing annoyance is evident by the deep exhale he tries (and fails) to suppress. Wooyoung doesn’t want things to be so tense, but you’re not exactly making it easy. He supposes you might gain some sympathy for him if he explains his troubles. You seem like a genuine person despite any contempt you might hold for him right now, so he figures you’ll be understanding. He needs to make conversation in some kind of way, anyway.

“How about I tell you a bit about my situation then?” He finally offers. You hum to let him know you’re listening, so he continues, “She and I were together for the last three years, but then she broke up with me a few months ago. And over something so stupid, really.”

“Go on,” you encourage, swallowing the bulk of food in your throat.

“Well, I need a master's degree to get the specific job I want… After telling her, one of her friends got in her ear about how me staying in school might hold her back after we graduate next year.” Wooyoung tries to sound indifferent to her friend’s heavy influence on her decisions, but the look behind his eyes, as he glances around to see if she’s in the area, says otherwise. It’s full of bitterness and hurt. “She wants to travel for a year before getting a job, and they told her I’d stress her out too much with a long-distance relationship. She took that to heart, for whatever reason.”

Would it be a lie if you said you didn’t support a tiny bit of actual pity towards Wooyoung? Probably. Knowing what you know now, you ponder more about the tight situation between you. He’s an intelligent guy, and you’re sure he knows exactly what Yunho is to you with the way you get touchy about his name even being mentioned. That’s why he’s using someone else’s happiness to retrieve his own once more. While that’s not exactly just, you’re aware that love makes people do crazy things. Moreover, you know you in particular can’t judge anyone after doing what you’ve done to achieve Yunho’s attention.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” is all you can reply, but it’s genuine.

Before you can process what’s happening, Wooyoung suddenly reaches across the table and links his fingers with your free hand in an act of endearment. Your cheeks prickle with heat, not from being charmed, but from more humiliation. This is embarrassing, suddenly having to do public displays of affection with someone you don’t even like in front of whoever is looking hard enough to notice.

“Don’t turn around, she’s here with a friend,” he mumbles, and then an affectionate smile tugs at his lips. It looks fairly genuine… He is much too good at looking charming on the drop of a dime. “Do you think it’d be too corny if we wore some matching outfits a couple times?”

You hesitate for the briefest second before squeezing his hand with false affection and leaning forward on your elbows to seem more interested.

Nobody is close enough to hear you reply, “Are you trying to win her back or get her to block you? Because I honestly can’t tell.”

“It’s just a little joke. Laugh a little, I beg,” Wooyoung pouts. 

He leads your connected hand to fondle his cheek, trying to inconspicuously guide you through the motions. If Wooyoung didn’t know any better, he would assume you’ve never been on a date in your life. His hopes were much higher than this, as you’re much too pretty to be this stiff when it comes to showing affection. It almost has him second-guessing whether he’s right about you and Yunho being involved more than just sexually. Much to his surprise, your hand finally relaxes against his face, and he revels in the way you even stroke his skin with your thumb. The timing couldn’t be more ideal, truly. He can sense the attention of his intended audience, and the corners of his mouth curl into a subtle smirk of approval. 

“That’s perfect. Keep going.” 

“Don’t push it, please.”

For the rest of that week, Wooyoung insisted on repeating these kinds of daily rendezvous. This request also accompanied another for walking each other to class when applicable. He knew he couldn’t always time it right for when she’d be present, but he had his workarounds. He was fairly knowledgeable about a few of her friends’ class schedules, and he made it a point to walk with you on paths that would often intersect with those who he knew would inform her of his behavior instead. Occasionally, he would ask you to show up to school a little more fetching than usual, with prettier clothes and makeup. Wooyoung also made a point of concealing her identity from you, for reasons unbeknownst to you. He failed to tell you any more details about her after your first date, and that included basics as simple as her name. Several possibilities were considered when you finally identified this as a problem. The rational explanation would be that he doesn’t want you approaching her on your own time and taking things into your own hands. A particular irrational explanation starts infiltrating your thoughts with the more days that pass by bearing no evidence of progress:

“I’m starting to believe this ex of yours doesn’t exist.”

Your snide remark about his secrecy started as a joke. 

“I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”

His terse reply didn’t necessarily extinguish the conspiracy behind your jest. After consistently being told not to look in certain directions for nearly two weeks, and no updates on her position, it became harder to believe his words. Despite everything, you do as you’re told and pray that his ex breaks through sooner rather than later.

I’m sorry.

It seems as though those two words haven’t stopped coming out of your mouth ever since you stepped foot in Yunho’s home this evening. 

It begins with apologizing profusely for asking to come over on such short notice. Your complex’s Wi-Fi went out due to the wintery mix storm slamming the town tonight. Wooyoung’s been trying to lay it on thick the last few days and make your presence more than known to his ex, anywhere and every way that he can. Consequently, with a lot of your free time being taken away by him, you found little time to put towards important assignments due at the end of this week. The lack of Wi-Fi is the absolute last thing you need to happen right now. 

Yunho doesn’t care about your abrupt presence at his door or even the way you track slush past his doorstep. He's more concerned about how you drove in the middle of a huge storm so late into the evening with no care for your safety. Over and over, you find new things to apologize for that make no sense to him. Another set of frazzled apologies comes from your mouth for keeping him up late after an hour or two passes. Yunho can’t help but genuinely laugh at this one.

“You do realize what day it is, right?” He inquires. The clueless look on your face makes him sit up, “It’s Saturday, ____. The day you typically come over and spend the night. I actually texted you about it earlier today, I didn’t know if you still wanted to or not since you were so busy last Saturday.”

This epiphany makes you immensely bashful and draws many more apologies out of you for your poor memory and lack of communication. How could I have lost time so badly that I forgot to reply to him about something we do so routinely? Under your stressful circumstances lately, your days are running together, and there’s just too much on your plate to appease everyone. Yunho visibly sees the shame blanket you from head to toe, and he hopes he didn’t come across as if he was upset with your behavior. In fact, he’s more concerned than anything.

Your lover can hear you type much faster after this brief exchange and he scoffs. Surely you don’t believe he’d willingly let you make haste of your work so you can disappear for another week or two… he groans internally when he realizes that’s exactly what you’re doing. He doesn’t understand why you’re so self-conscious and sheepish tonight, but he’s not going to press it. Instead, he rises from his spot on his couch and creeps over to where you’re seated at his table. His hands find the slopes of your shoulders and thumbs rub comforting circles into your muscles.

“You know you’re not going home tonight, right?” He questions after a moment of being nosey and peeking at your screen.

“And why not?”

The abrupt feeling of Yunho’s large palm skating up the skin of your throat before pushing your chin up to meet his gaze above you makes a chill run up your spine. His eyes are warm and concerned, yet stern.

“Because I said so,” he says point-blank.

Whether it be because of the terrible storm still slapping at his windows, or maybe even the fact that he hasn’t seen you outside of a classroom in quite some time, he knows this succinct answer suffices just as well those do. The subsequent pout on your lips to him is seen simply as an invitation to kiss them, and he does just that. You don’t even try to argue any further. It may not be your best work this semester, but it’s not too much longer after that when you finally submit everything due before its midnight deadline.

After briefly disappearing to his room to rummage through his dresser and change into something more comfortable, you eventually join him on the couch. Tonight’s position of choice has your head using his thighs as a pillow, cheek squished against his soft sweatpants as he spends endless minutes massaging the tense muscles of your back and shoulders with his fingers. He smells so good… that lavender and musk mix has you closing your eyes every handful of seconds just to breathe him in. Even if he can’t see your face, it’s obvious that you’re not paying attention to the movie he has on the TV, so he suggests that maybe you both should move to the bedroom so you can be more comfortable. You assure him that you’re more than comfortable right where you’re at, and that’s the truth.

Despite laying so peacefully with him, in what should be a moment of sedating intimacy, your mind is still reeling with things that need to be accomplished in the next few weeks. Every time you mentally check off something on your list, there are several more things added after, such as your three final exams, Yunho’s final paper, returning your textbook rentals, finally figuring out your ceremony dress, picking up your guests’ ceremony tickets–

“Are you going to attend my ceremony?” 

Yunho hears you mumble this randomly after a while of sitting in comfortable silence. You’re sure he doesn’t need a ticket as a teacher, but the thought of having to get them brings you back to earth and reminds you of his presence.

“That was the plan,” he confirms, but hesitantly adds, “Unless you don’t want me there. I don’t want to make things awkward.”

The way you’re acting lately has him questioning things like this, now that he thinks about it. You immediately dispel his apprehension with a displeased grunt.

“No, I… really need you there.”

Yunho’s hand falters slightly in its kneading. He’s grateful that you’re unable to see his face with how you’re lying because the apples of his cheeks are taut from the overjoyed smile threatening to break through his lips. It’s one thing to be admired or adored by someone, but it’s another thing to be needed. He doesn’t hear that word often, if at all, but hearing it come from your mouth makes it even more monumental to him. That’s something he could get used to. Yunho hums in understanding, wordlessly confirming that he’ll be present. Following along the topic of graduation, he decides to ask something present on his mind recently.

“Have you thought about what you want to do after graduation?” 

“Career-wise or celebration-wise?”

“Whichever… or both.”

You close your eyes to think. Nothing immediately comes to mind in terms of celebrating, but you’re sure your friends will be holding parties to attend. Putting that aside, you turn over and decide to open up a bit about your impending employment.

“I had a great internship last semester that I put my all into,” you divulge, “They wanted to bring me on full-time, so I asked if they could hold the position and wait for me to finish my degree this semester. Lucky me, they agreed.”

“Already set up for success right after you leave that stage… You’re amazing,” Yunho marvels. “I suppose I’m just as lucky too, huh? I get to watch you shine, front row.”

There’s a brief moment where you peer up and match his fond smile that’s already beaming right back down at you. When you reach up to caress his cheek, Yunho leans into your touch as if it’s second nature. The further you both dive into this relationship, it feels as though maybe you’ve finally found an additional frontline cheerleader.

“Mhm, something like that,” you tease. When he turns to kiss your palm in his form of congratulations, you sigh. Your hands have been tainted by someone else’s touch, and here he is blindly showing them genuine affection. Before you can help it, another apology comes out, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Yu.”

“Why do you keep apologizing tonight for things you can’t control?” The gentle, unsuspecting laugh he lets out makes the guilt sitting in your chest about Wooyoung just a little bit heavier. “It’s finals season, I know how it goes.”

When your hand returns to your chest, your gaze falls just the same. He’s right, albeit unknowingly. With those words, you can finally accept that you have no control over your current situation at all. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself that you’re guiding this blackmail ship forward, you’re just not. In any case, you still feel like you’re doing what’s best for Yunho's future. Tonight’s tornado of apologies have all been unconscious overcompensation. As much as you feel like you need to, you know you shouldn’t have to apologize for your shortcomings when they result from such unmanageable circumstances. You’re doing your best, even if your best isn’t enough just yet. 

Yunho can’t figure out what it is about tonight, but you seem like your head is a bit more in the clouds than usual. You’re here with him physically, but he can tell you’re somewhere else mentally. However, he acknowledges that he could be reading into things too much since it’s been a while since you both have spent time privately.

“Hey, stargazer, everything okay?” he finally asks in a soft voice, gently tugging on your cheek to bring you back to the present.

“Sorry—yeah, everything’s alright,” you reassure him. There’s something behind those soft eyes you’re giving him that makes him question your answer, but he keeps those concerns to himself and simply nods. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll make it up to you when this is all over with, I promise.”

You’re no longer talking about school with those words. He’ll probably never truly understand how much weight that sentence holds, but that’s okay. For the rest of your time with him tonight, you pretend that none of your problems exist outside his home. He deserves your unwavering attention tonight, at the very least. 

On the first day of the following week, Wooyoung requests your presence in front of some familiar dormitories. It’s been quite some time now since you’ve been on this side of campus, considering you moved into your current apartment around the end of your junior year. The nostalgic feeling you get when meandering your way to your meeting place doesn’t do much to alleviate the anxiety you regularly get every time Wooyoung brings you somewhere so populated.

“What are we doing here again?”

“I heard she’s swinging by here today to drop something off for a mutual friend,” he explains while his eyes still scope the area for her presence, as usual. 

You busy yourself with playing on your phone, keeping your head down and yourself hidden for as long as you can manage. This place, while technically not as densely populated as the dining space you frequent, has too many opportunities for lurking gazes. This particular set of dormitories sits on the side of campus that encompasses a good amount of academic halls and the largest campus library. There are plenty of teachers and students walking to classes or accessing the library, and even more lingering outside within the surrounding courtyard despite the frigid weather. Wooyoung had insisted on holding you by your waist for the time being as well, citing something about how “normal couples warm each other up”. You just want this to be over with as quickly as possible before too many people can see you both standing so close together. 

“Hey, ____,” Wooyoung hums after a while, catching your attention quickly.

“Hm?”

Before you can even fully look up from your phone, Wooyoung’s head dips down and seeks out your lips. Shock is an understatement; the feeling of your heart seizing in unison with your limbs makes you feel like you might as well be flatlining. This cannot be—

“Relax,” he whispers before deepening this kiss, interrupting your thought as his tongue enters your mouth. 

Reluctantly, you do as he says and try your best to relax while kissing him back. Over and over, you remind yourself this is supposed to be putting on a show in front of his ex. You try to allow yourself to fully slip into the role you have been forced to play. Your hands find purchase on his jacket, albeit uneasily. For someone who’s making your life so much more difficult, you can’t deny he’s at least a decent kisser. This moment feels like it lasts entirely too long, but eventually, Wooyoung pulls away and you watch his eyes dart around somewhere behind you. 

“She’s gone now,” he sighs, “Pretty sure she saw that though. Nice job.”

“Don’t ever do that without warning me beforehand again,” you scold him in a voice low enough for his ears to hear only. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, though he follows up with an apology. Even though it seems genuine, it does nothing to quell the immediate guilt that washes over you the moment you go to swipe saliva off of your lips with your thumb. The nauseous feeling stirring in your stomach over simply kissing someone else other than Yunho begins to build up and feel unbearable, “Can I go now? I’m supposed to meet with a teacher during their office hours soon.”

Despite the tremor of uneasiness in your voice, Wooyoung believes your lie without question. That uneasiness doesn’t depart your system for the remainder of the day even after removing his presence, and you decide to call it quits early instead of attending your final class. This feeling of guilt, almost as if you cheated while in a relationship, has you more saddened than frustrated tonight. To make things easier to deal with, you repeat the same phrase about you and Yunho in your head over and over.

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While you cook yourself dinner–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While working on your final paper–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

Yunho’s failure to text you back that evening before going to bed makes that fact easier to swallow. It’s the truth, so it shouldn’t be so hard to digest, right?

Yeosang does not expect much when he asks you out of the blue the next day to come and spend time with him after school. His roommate is gone for the week to visit family and he’s all by his lonesome. For the majority of the month, he’s become used to you declining in favor of completing overdue work. He’s not used to you being so behind on your work, and it doesn’t quite make sense to him when other times you say you’re even busier throughout the day. You look a bit more drained than usual when he Facetimes you that afternoon to suggest it, but he figures he wouldn’t be that upset to hear another no if you need the rest. 

The answer was yes, for the first time in a while. 

As luck would have it, the imaginary shackles on you had been released for the day, and having time to yourself for an entire weekday almost felt strange. Your personified migraine had texted you early in the morning informing you he’d be out of town for the day to attend some seminar that you didn’t care enough to remember the details of. Yeosang doesn’t do a good enough job concealing his shock the moment confirmation comes from your mouth, and you feign offense.

“I'm being punked, right?”

You scoff, “I don’t like the way you’re acting like this is bizarre, loser.”

You both know that’s a fairly accurate word considering your disappearances these last couple of weeks. His broad smile at your usual banter makes you feel cherished and missed, and it’s comforting for him to know you still have such a sense of humor even through your fatigue. He’s secretly been concerned for your well-being, but he didn’t want to seem meddlesome. Eventually, you go from two faces on a screen to you perched at his kitchen table. Yeosang insisted he cook you a nice homecooked meal when you mentioned to him in passing how much you miss eating his food. His back might be turned away, but he’s still actively engaging in discussion with you over the controversial love triangle taking place on the dating reality show he has you catching up on with him tonight. Toward the end of an episode, it takes you a few minutes of rambling to realize your best friend has grown silent while he cooks. Behind your back, he’s busy ruminating over thoughts of love triangles when he decides to finally uncork the bottle he’s been keeping closed in an attempt to have a peaceful evening.

“Can I ask you a question?” Yeosang calls out suddenly over the sound of oil popping in his pan.

Your eyes stay glued to the television, but you hum in consent, “What’s up?”

“Is it true that you’re dating Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung.

His name is a burden to you these days; the syllables of it only bring you discomfort. Hearing it mentioned on a day when you almost felt like you could get away from him draws a long beat of silence from you, though Yeosang doesn’t turn around to confront such silence. He allows you the time to answer however you’d like to if you would even provide one. Even though he was somewhat putting you on the spot with such a question, Yeosang is still your best friend at the end of the day. He’s not the kind of person to pressure you or give you a hard time about your private business, despite the times he rags on you in jest. 

The truthful answer is right on the tip of your tongue, begging to be shouted, but you don’t have the strength to say such a thing yet. Instead, you inquire, “Who did you hear that from?” 

You don’t mean to, but you sound a bit miffed when asking. Until this point, you had hoped your fake relationship with Wooyoung wasn’t too obvious to those who don’t pay close enough attention, but the feeling of failure is now pooling in the depths of your stomach. You should’ve known better. 

“When someone begins getting close to the TA who’s in charge of their grades, I guess it’s understandable that there would be some rumors… Some people in our class are saying you’re together now,” Yeosang explains, voice as calm as ever while he continues to push around the meat in the pan. “I overheard those speculations and I didn’t really believe any of it at all. Unlike them, I know you’re already seeing Mr. Jeong.”

Yeosang pauses to allow you a chance to say any words you wish to insert if anything. Being amongst speculations of wooing someone to raise your grades is the least of your worries, and you honestly couldn’t care less if people believed such silly things in the last semester of your college career. At this moment, you are much more concerned about Yunho catching light of such rumors, or really anything regarding you and Wooyoung in the same sentence reaching his ears. It didn’t seem that way when you were both in each other’s presence a few days ago talking about your future, and you’re sure that he would’ve confronted you about such things if he could. Still…

“I’m not dating Wooyoung, nor would I even think of doing that for my grades. You know me, Yeo.”

You’re sure Yeosang can feel your eyes gazing over at him now, boring anxious holes through his back. You know he can hear the uneasiness plaguing you, making your words waver.

“I understand, I do. It’s just…” Yeosang pauses once more to find the right words that don’t sound so accusatory, “Hongjoong told me he saw you both on each other on his way to class the other day. I figured I’d simply ask you about that before I come to any conclusions, that’s all.”

Several beats of silence pass before you feel like you’ve finally drowned deep in this ocean of stress you’ve been trying to keep afloat in.

“Yeosang, I’m in over my head and I can’t handle this anymore.”

Yeosang finally ceases his stirring and peers over at you the moment the last syllable leaves your lips. This is the first time you’ve both met each other’s eyes since he began cooking and his gaze is undeniably the most concerned you’ve seen him give you in years. He can’t help it when he can so clearly hear the hurt in your voice. He knows you’re a bit more reserved these days when talking about your relationship with your teacher, and he understands that it could be out of respect for his privacy. This moment doesn’t seem like a situation where that’s applicable anymore.

Navigating this situation all by yourself is draining. 

These last months in college are supposed to be nerve-wracking in an exciting way, finishing finals and prepping yourself to walk across the stage for your diploma. You’re supposed to be anxious about what to wear and how to do your makeup for your ceremony, about how you should smile when the ceremony’s photographer tells you where to look as you grab that fake symbolic roll of paper. Instead, you’ve been running yourself dry trying to appease a man who’s threatening to ruin one of the best things to happen to you thus far in life. You just want to be happy. Yeosang was right in warning you about playing with fire when pursuing Yunho, but it all still hurts so fucking badly.

“I want to help you ____, but you have to be honest with me,” he stresses, “I’m concerned about you. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

You’re uncomfortably silent for a moment, eyes glued to his while contemplating his words. At last, you decide to broach the subject of all your mental stress. If you trusted anyone to help you navigate this situation, it was going to be him. This was no longer something you could handle on your own. 

“I’m being blackmailed by Wooyoung.”

The words don’t even sound real coming out of your mouth when you finally betray the promise of silence you made to Wooyoung.

Yeosang’s brows draw together even closer in concern, “What?”

“Wooyoung found out that Yunho and I are together,” you confess further, words running out as quickly as you can think to say them, “And now he’s forcing me to date him to make his ex jealous. He wouldn’t stay quiet otherwise, and it’s all my fault, Yeosang. It’s all my fault.”

Your best friend pushes his pan away from the eye of the stove and makes haste over to where you’re sitting. He knows you better than you know yourself sometimes, already sensing you crumbling before you can realize that you’re finally breaking down. All of the pent-up stress over the last couple of weeks was finally taking its toll. 

“I thought it would be over quickly, but it doesn’t seem like we’re making any progress,” you sputter, putting your head in your hands and pressing your palms to your eyes. The last thing you want to do is cry over a man who doesn’t deserve your tears. “He won’t even tell me who she is. I can’t handle this anymore, I just can’t.”

Yeosang’s arms wrap around you to ground you before you can allow yourself to descend further into your breakdown. Very few times has he seen your foundation be shaken so badly by something. You’re one of the strongest people he knows, and it takes a lot to disintegrate the fortitude you hold. He knows he can help you build it back later, he’s your best friend for a reason. For right now, though, he’ll let you get everything out that you’ve been holding in and dealing with by yourself. He knows you probably had your reasons to keep such things inside and away from him.

“He kissed me yesterday and I felt so guilty for the rest of the day, like I betrayed Yunho,” you tell him, and before you realize it tears are finally brimming in your eyes.

“Be kind to yourself, ____,” Yeosang hums while he holds your face in his hands. “You didn’t do that because you wanted to, it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore, okay?”

Hearing those words for the first time since this all began allows a veil of peace to cover you and you nod, finally accepting your need for help. Yeosang promises you that he will do whatever he can to find out who Wooyoung has his sights set so heavy on without interfering enough to throw things out of kilter. His help could be the only chance you had at getting this charade to end faster, even if it meant riskily trying to nudge things along behind Wooyoung’s back. You were no longer satisfied with being patient, and you now realize you don’t have to settle for that anymore.

While you might’ve gained some peace that night, around 2 AM that morning, there is no peace to be found in the home of your lover.

Yunho’s been staring at his ceiling for the last hour, unable to sleep even though he knows he needs to be up in a handful of hours for work. He had tried to push this situation plaguing his thoughts out of his mind all day yesterday, but his brain does its worst on nights when he’s left to his own devices and his thoughts spiral. At least tonight it’s not for self-sabotaging reasons like he’s prone to. 

He allows himself to close his eyes and relive the moment when he saw you and his assistant kissing on his way to a multi-department meeting at the library. The moment he recalls the way your hands were clutching Wooyoung’s chest, he grimaces with unadulterated resentment. For the entirety of yesterday, he felt numb. He went through the day simply going through the motions, lacking any of his usual charisma and cordiality amongst most people he crossed paths with throughout the day. He was able to put on a mask for his students at the very least. How is one supposed to act when they see their girlfriend kissing another man? That’s when he has to remind himself:

She’s not my girlfriend.

At least, he doesn’t know if you are or not, since you haven’t said it out of your mouth yet. This is exactly the kind of bothersome bullshit he was so worried about weeks ago when he realized the severity of his feelings for you. He should’ve had the conversation with you earlier to see where your head was at, but he put it off for so long under the excuse of being afraid of scaring you off. He wonders if maybe you think he’s not serious about you enough since he’s never brought it up first. And sure, he knows you both aren’t technically together right now, but you could’ve at least let him know that you’re seeing more people than him, right? It hurts a little more that it’s also his assistant of all people.

He turns onto his side in a huff and buries himself deeper under his blanket. Yunho wishes he hadn’t fallen for you so hard. It’s hard enough to deal with his feelings as things are now, especially with the circumstances, but the introduction of competition might just drive him insane. She’s a grown woman and she’s allowed to do whatever she wants, he reminds himself reluctantly while closing his eyes once more, but again—a heads-up would’ve been nice. He doesn’t even know how to approach this situation moving forward. How is he supposed to look you in the eyes today during class?

The answer is that he doesn’t. 

If he can help it, he actively avoids those engaged eyes of yours while he goes on for an hour about pragmatics. He doesn’t even look over at your side of the room. It’s not until the mid-class break that he takes multiple swift glances over at you chatting with Yeosang about something that’s got you enthusiastic. That smile on your face while excitement physically pours out of you makes his eyes soften. He wonders if you’re discussing graduation, as it is coming up in some weeks now. Then, he remembers that he wanted to take you away or do something relaxing to celebrate since you seemed to not have existing plans. Would that sway you back over to his side, if he planned something nice and spoiled the surprise early? Before he can even finish that train of thought, he finds himself finally meeting your eyes while you briefly let yours wander around in the middle of a sentence. The sneaky flirtatious wink you send his way makes him clear his throat bashfully and adjust his tie.

Yunho spends the remainder of class discussing the final paper and offering to read any final drafts that people would like feedback on, as long as they’re submitted by a specific date. He knows he’s probably shooting himself in the foot by putting that kind of work on his plate so close to the deadline, but he genuinely wants people to do well on his final and he knows there are quite a few seniors in this particular class section. The least he can do is make sure those of you end your college careers with a satisfactory grade to finish off your transcripts. He did very well with his midterm evaluations as well, so he wants to do the same for his finals. 

When class ends, Yunho finally takes notice of how Wooyoung has been leaving as early as everyone else lately. He could’ve sworn Wooyoung used to stick around to ask him questions, and often times he even departed after Yunho had already departed. He also notices that you are nowhere to be found now even though Yeosang is still present, seemingly already having fled the room for one reason or another. He doesn’t want to think about if he’s been so oblivious to these kinds of things up until this point, but the thought of you and Wooyoung rushing to meet up after his classes sticks with him for the rest of the day.

Yunho can admit he’s a bit toxic sometimes. 

It happens in moments of weakness where he lets his selfishness outweigh anything else. He reasons to himself that this isn’t one of those situations as he stands in front of your apartment door late into the evening of that same day. He had called you and asked if he could come see you at your place, which rarely happens. While it caught you by surprise, and you were in the midst of work, you were still as welcoming as ever. He knows you’d never say no. He’d never admit it aloud, but he’s not solely here just to see you—he’s here to be a bit nosy. 

It’s freezing outside, so when you finally open the door he’s scrambling to get inside.

“That was fast,” you marvel. 

When you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug, your shivers and giggles are like white noise in his ears as his eyes sweep the room. He doesn’t notice anything out of place, nothing that would make it seem like anybody other than you had been present here anytime soon anyway. His cold hands slide up the slope of your back to cup the sides of your face, and he offers you a sweet closed-mouth smile before briefly pressing his lips to yours in greeting.

“Yeah, traffic was pretty non-existent,” he hums.

“I made soup since it’s so frosty,” you glance towards the kitchen as your hands go to unzip his jacket for him, “Are you hungry?”

“If you’re cooking, always.”

Tonight, Yunho takes things slow. 

From graciously eating your cooking to cuddling on your couch, he builds up the intimacy minute by minute. It’s something he’s been craving from you lately, that feeling of intimacy and domestication. He’s more than willing to indulge you when grow aroused by something as innocent as him mindlessly drawing shapes on your thighs with his fingers, slowly shifting them inside your pajama shorts when you whisper, “I want you to touch me.”

“I’m already touching you, baby.”

You push his hand just a smidge lower, whining, “You know what I mean.”

When things finally move to the bedroom, Yunho fucks you nice and slow, and it feels much more intimate than any of your previous times together. Slow, steady rolls of his hips into yours like he’s intent on showing you every ounce of love he holds for you in his body if he’s unable to say it outright himself. Nothing inherently strikes you as odd about the way his demeanor is different tonight. In fact, this kind of pure intimacy is something you’d been curious to experience from him. It almost makes you feel like you’re officially together. Sure, sex is naturally intimate, but this? This feels different. 

His hands go from holding yours beside your head so affectionately to passionately gripping and kneading the plush skin of your sides and thighs like they’re fresh dough. It’s like he’s trying to solidify that this is reality, that you’re truly here in his hands and not someone else's. Grip strong enough to dig deep into the tissue and make you moan, but gentle enough not to leave bruising marks. Truth be told, he’d rather leave marks of where he’s been in less covert places. That’s why his mouth subconsciously finds its way to your neck before you feel the gentle drag of his teeth on your skin. It’s too quick to even be considered a warning.

“Yu, wait–”

You begin to tell him he can’t leave hickeys in such open places, but Yunho quiets you by sucking your skin anyway. The first one is on the tender skin just under your jaw, right where he can feel the pulse of how fast your heart is beating with his tongue. The desperate whine you let out when he finally lets up with a quiet pop! of his lips off your skin encourages him to put another on the column of your throat. You’ll probably throw a fit later when you see how bad these are and complain about the trouble of covering them up, but he really couldn’t care less. 

When he finishes off the second hickey, he kisses his way up to your lips so sweetly as if he didn’t do something so obviously possessive. As if he didnt do something so mischievous which’ll draw questions from your friends and get you flustered trying to explain. These marks are warnings as much as they are bites of love. You throw your arms around his neck and arch your back, itching for more than what he’s offering. It doesn’t matter that it still feels euphoric, those long drags of his cock against your walls just to fill you up again—it’s too slow. The breathy laugh he lets out against your lips draws a pout from your own. 

“What’s wrong pretty girl, don’t I make you feel good?” Yunho asks in a whisper, deep chocolate eyes holding your gaze while he continues to roll his hips at his leisure. He doesn’t like that he needs a bit of reassurance right now, but he wants to hear it so badly. When you nod with fervor, it’s just not good enough for him, “Tell me, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“You’re everything I crave, Yu,” you oblige him breathlessly, hands scratching at the sensitive nape of his neck while you arch again. For the first time this evening, Yunho’s hips falter in their steady rhythm. He’s quite caught off guard by your choice of words; it’s as if you know exactly what he needs to hear more than he does himself. “Nobody could ever make me feel like you do.”

“Yeah? This pretty pussy needs me, huh?”

There’s that word that he now loves so much: need.

“More than you know,” you gasp when he pushes his hips into yours as deep as he can manage, obscenities bubbling from within your chest.

Even though you both have had sex many times since this all began, this part still feels fresh. The way he manages to reach new depths inside of you and stretch you out to his heart’s content feels fresh every single time. Yunho’s thrusts begin picking up some speed finally and whines claw at his throat.

“My sweet, needy baby… You’re the only one who gets this, ____,” he admits, voice trembly while he drags his lips against the sensitive skin of your jaw, kissing his previous artwork, “It’s all yours, okay?”

In a perfect world, he’d love to hear you say the same back to him, but he’s snapping his hips too roughly now to allow for words. The way you begin begging for him to give you more of himself makes up for it. Bitten-off moans tumble from your lips as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, and it makes his cock throb and ache for release. The way you’re chanting his name has his eyes fluttering up in bliss. There’s no doubt in his mind that you want him, mentally and carnally, but the real question is if he’s not enough to satisfy that want. Yunho doesn’t have time to let his mind wander off into that kind of insecure territory. His brain becomes fuzzy as he becomes eager to feel you cum stuffed full of his cock, and then see his own paint your sweaty skin. Those familiar heavy pants he lets out against your lips make you simper.

“Getting close?”

“So close,” he nods, hissing when he feels you clench at his answer, “H-hah, oh fuck.”

“Wanna cum inside?” You offer this so shyly against his lips that he nearly doesn’t hear you talking altogether. When he offers you an absentminded ‘huh’ in response, you giggle and move to speak directly in his ear, “Want you to cum inside.”

Something behind Yunho’s eyes changes when you pull back—those blown-out pupils of his with little hearts swimming in them zero in on yours with a look you can’t quite put your tongue on. You cross your ankles behind his back to emphasize your words, to show him you’re serious.

“Really want me to fill you up, pretty?” he rasps. When you bite your bottom lip and nod, he offers you a lopsided grin, “Use those fingers and catch up, then.”

You don’t need to be told twice, one hand moving from being around his neck down to your clit to rub quick circles that’ll push you over the edge together. He’s never cum in you ever since you both started having sex, but he’s feeling overwhelmingly possessive today and it might just subside if he sees his cum leaking from your cunt onto your sheets. It’s now the only thought screaming at him in that fucked-out head of his. Your mouths connecting in a messy, sensuous kiss is the final push he needs.

Yunho’s fingers wind deep into your sheets with as much strength as he can muster while he buries himself inside you, pelvis to pelvis, pushing you deeper into your mattress. The throb of his cock and the broken moan he lets out while he finally cums trigger your own orgasm. The moment you lock your legs around him to keep him in place, your walls flutter and squeeze his cock to help milk him dry. He makes a note somewhere in the lusty haze of his mind that he just has to get you both to cum at the same time like this again at another point in time because the way you’re practically squeezing every last drop from him while you fall apart is nearly making him whimper repentance for how sinful it feels. When your legs let up on their grip, he gives you a few shallow thrusts before finally pulling out. Focusing on catching your breath is hard when he’s gazing so heavily at the mess he’s made of you. 

“Don’t stare...” Yunho doesn’t even realize he’s been fascinated with watching the way his seed spills from your heat until you poorly block it with a self-conscious hand. Only then does he finally look up and find you flustered, the pout on your face growing more prominent by the second, “It’s embarrassing...”

“God, you’re so fine,” he coos. The jolt your body produces when he takes his fingers and pushes what’s been wasted back into your sensitive hole makes him laugh. “Even prettier like this too. Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty baby.”

Yunho hadn’t originally planned on sleeping over—it is a weekday after all, and he has work tomorrow morning. After showering, though, his willpower is tested. He loses nearly all his self-discipline to leave like a responsible man when you use this irresistible voice the moment he steps foot back into the room, humming honeyed words while holding his briefs behind your back to keep him from getting dressed.

“Can’t you just wake up early to swing by your house and get ready?” You eventually pout up at him when he looks as if he might change his mind. With the way your gaze is focused on his attentive eyes, you can’t see the way his cock is already twitching back to life again at your pleading eyes, the same ones you use on your knees between his thighs. He’s so thankful for that. “This is why I said you should leave some outfits over here just in case.”

“I know, I know. I should listen to you more. Can I please have my underwear back now?”

“Are you gonna stay? Please?”

He chuckles before finally conceding, “I can’t say no when you ask me so nicely, can I?” 

You nearly fall apart at the way he pulls your face up by your cheeks with firm fingers before planting a kiss of surrender on your lips. Yunho doesn’t even remember why he’s over your house anymore, now only focused on getting his underwear back from your hands before you can see him getting hard all over again. He has enough sense to know that a second round will surely be much longer than the previous one, and you both need to sleep soon if he wants to wake up early enough. Lucky for him, you’re much too tired from a full day to stay up too much longer anyway.

It’s 8 AM when Yunho’s phone starts chiming with an annoying tone he set specifically to force his awakening. That grating sound is also your punishment for persuading him to spend the night. He’s slow to turn it off specifically for that reason, and a lazy smile stretches across his face when he hears you groan. Success.

“You’re so annoying,” you murmur. You instinctively search for your phone on your nightstand to glance at how early your lover has you suffering, then slowly slide yourself out of bed to go blindly search for a bottle of water. 

Yunho screws his eyes shut and open a few times to regain his vision before flipping over and patiently awaiting your arrival. He gave himself a fairly decent buffer on the off chance you decide to stay awake and eat breakfast with him. At least, that was the plan until something happened that immediately changed his brain chemistry. Yunho’s eyes swivel towards your phone when it vibrates a couple of times on the nightstand. It really wouldn’t have been a problem had he not seen and recognized the name on the screen. Against his better judgment, he picks it up gently. He sees two older notifications from the prior night and the two new ones now piquing his interest. 

[Wooyoung: Don’t forget lunch tomorrow]

[Wooyoung: Usual place]

...

[Wooyoung: Good morning]

[Wooyoung: If you get on campus by 10 let's do breakfast instead, they’ll be there. lmk]

His eyes constrict to slits almost instantaneously. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me… 

He doesn’t care that it's petty, he swipes each of the message notifications and deletes them with a pool of satisfaction boiling in the deepest pit of his stomach. You were too busy with him last night to notice his other messages anyway. If he could delete those messages permanently, he would. Realistically, there was no way he could keep you from eventually meeting up again with Wooyoung, but maybe distracting you enough to be late could be worth being a bit late to his own obligations. He’s extra needy on purpose this morning, immediately seeking out your attention the moment you groggily slip back into bed after chugging water. Feeling his warm hands grope your butt just makes you groan in that special kind of annoyance that naturally comes with waking earlier than need-be. When his fingers travel to fiddle with the elastic of your panties, an indirect request of sorts, you muster enough energy to nudge him weakly.

“S’too early, Yu,” you pout without even opening your eyes and bury your cheek deeper into your pillow.

“I know, I know. I have to leave soon,” he acknowledges. Still, his hand dances its way into the fabric. He watches you shudder when his middle finger pushes against your clit experimentally. His brow lifts when you open your legs. He licks his lips eagerly before murmuring, “You don’t even have to do anything, I’ll take good care of you. Go ahead and rest, okay?”

The hum you let out, signaling him to do as he pleases, has him gently working your panties down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He spends all the time he can, all the way until the last few minutes before he has to leave, with his face buried between your tired thighs. Always a starved man when it comes to your greedy cunt, the one that he confirmed last night needs him oh so much, he french-kisses his way into a sore tongue and a stiff jaw. 

“Mhm, that’s it,” he talks directly to your heat, holding open your lips with his thumbs while watching the way slick, cum, and spit seep out to sully your sheets, “Gimme another one.”

Sleepy whines and garbled whimpers of his name have him rutting his hips against your bed. He would touch himself if he could, but his hands are too busy massaging your tense thighs in rhythm with his aching tongue lapping at your clit. The friction isn’t enough. He supposes his poor underwear will just have to suffer from precum leaking out his deprived cock, drenching the fabric the more he gets aroused. Each orgasm he’s able to pull from you drains your body of its energy more and more until you’re a meek puddle of fatigue splayed out on your mattress.

Yunho doesn’t remember what number orgasm his mouth finally parts from your core, but at some point, he finally reminds himself that he’s a man with responsibilities who still has to go home and change into his work clothes. He also needs to take care of this painful hard-on quickly when he gets somewhere private. Self-admittedly, this all was as rewarding to himself in fulfilling it as it was to you receiving. Seeing you absolutely spent and on the verge of (hopefully) deep sleep puts a shameless smile on his face. 

He’s still a gentleman above anything else, taking the extra time to clean your skin and the mess he’s made of your cunt with a wet cloth before lovingly redressing you in your undies. He doesn’t even know if you can hear him after a certain point, but he still tucks you back in and whispers sweet nothings that he’ll overthink about later when he’s in his office after remembering why he was here in the first place. He even apologizes for ruining your sheets, again. The timid, fleeting kiss he leaves on your temple is followed by him carelessly saying, “Love you.”

The moment those two words tumble from his lips his eyes grow wide, and he waits with bated breath to see if you are even the slightest bit awake to hear his blunder. When you show no signs of stirring, Yunho releases all air caged within his chest and decides it’s best to leave quickly before he can make a fool of himself any further. You don’t hear from him for the rest of the day.

-

“I see… so she does exist,” you mutter sarcastically.

At the end of the week, following your shared linguistics lecture, you and your best friend convene at a table deep in the back of the library. Yeosang had spent a good amount of his time in the last few days covertly asking questions about Wooyoung to random acquaintances in hopes of getting bits of useful information about him or his ex. He was finally able to give you her name and class year, but he came up short otherwise.

“I wasn’t able to get any of her socials, I didn’t want to seem like I was pursuing her. However, I do have another idea,” he says, hands motioning for you to hear him out after he sees your spirits drop, “I was told she’s in Hongjoong’s capstone class and–”

“Oh brother,” you groan and sink further into your seat. 

If Yeosang’s words days ago were anything to go by, Hongjoong was already convinced you were dating Wooyoung, so asking him for his ex-girlfriend’s number is surely just going to cause prying questions. You’re fully convinced that he probably won’t even consider giving it to you because he might think it’ll lead to drama. 

“I know. Just hear me out,” Yeosang leans forward and lowers his voice, “I honestly don’t think it would be hard to get him to tell you. If you can come up with a plausible reason why you would need to reach out, I think he wouldn’t hesitate too much.”

“Which would be?”

“Well, I don’t know anything about her other than that she’s in a sorority. You can figure something out from that, right?”

You couldn’t deny that this was definitely a useful piece of information. Yeosang watches you purse your lips while you toss around some of the logistics in your head before nodding with some renewed optimism.

“Which app do you think I should start on?”

“I’m sure the majority of our sororities have IG pages to promote their activities. That’s probably your best bet,” he recommends, “I can help you search in between finals prep–”

“You’ve done enough, I can definitely handle that part,” you interject with a reassuring smile, “Thank you for even getting this info. I appreciate it, Yeo.”

While things definitely looked more positive from this conversation, there was an odd feeling lingering in your stomach over the next few days. From his time at your home through the weekend, Yunho’s communication and presence were lacking a bit more than usual. While it made things easier for you to see Wooyoung when requested without fear, it didn’t make things any less disappointing. Knowing he’s still there for you even through all of this mess was the only thing keeping you afloat, so it’s troubling when that disappears out of nowhere. Nevertheless, the end of the semester was creeping up faster than even you realized, so it makes sense that his schedule is being affected. Moreover, his job is what you’re doing this all for anyway, right? Even without his presence, you’d silently root for him in the shadows if it meant that December ended with you both together. 

In the meantime, you push these feelings to the back of your mind and give yourself a break from being so worrisome. With this charade moving deeper into its timeline, it’s time-sensitive and imperative to ask for his ex’s phone number from Hongjoong in an effort to contact her. Wooyoung might be intent on keeping you from meeting her, but he’s severely underestimated the fire in your belly when it comes to getting what you want. You’ve played along with his shenanigans long enough.

Hongjoong’s brows furrow while he shoves a few of the fries in his mouth from a meal you asked to treat him to this particular Monday afternoon.

“I should’ve known you wanted to see me for ulterior motives,” he takes a swigger of his soda with pursed lips, “Buttering me up with free food for my connections, huh?”

“I didn’t remember until just now, I promise,” you lie, trying to remain composed. You’re not exactly the best at lying to your close friends and this time is no different. “If I knew about anyone else having her number I would’ve asked them. I wouldn’t lie to you, Joong.”

His eyes examine your body language keenly before scoffing, “I’m still caught up on how you didn’t tell me that your mystery man was Wooyoung all this time. That was a lie by omission.”

“I am not dating Wooyoung, I already told you this.”

“Then why do you suddenly want his ex’s number?”

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and offer him an easygoing smile that you had practiced a plethora of times before even leaving to meet him.

“I’m reaching out on behalf of a mutual friend about possibly being commissioned to make the graduation stoles for their sorority. That’s all.”

Yes, through hours of snooping and finally finding her Instagram, you discovered that she is a die-hard sorority girl for one of the smaller sororities on your campus. You had almost talked yourself into simply contacting her there, but as luck would have it, her messages were turned off for strangers that she doesn’t follow back. There was no doubt in your mind that she would never follow you back if you tried that route.

“You sure you’re not trying to stir the pot?” Hongjoong inquires playfully, eyeing you with an elvish grin. You groan in annoyance. “I’m all for a little mess sometimes, but I don’t like being the gateway.”

“Come on Joong, it’s nothing like that at all. I didn’t think you would be so difficult to ask about this… You’re supposed to be my rock—”

Your heart is threatening to break out of your chest when he holds up his free hand to quiet you with a roll of his eyes. Then, with his other hand, he finally scrolls through his phone to find said information.

“I’ve heard enough, please stop being so dramatic,” he sighs. His thumb stops swiping as soon as he sees what he’s looking for in his class’ group chat, and he hands you the phone reluctantly. “Under no circumstances do you tell her who gave this to you.”

“You know I love you the most, right? Even more than Yeosang!” You smile and he matches it sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you liar. I love you too.”

While Yunho’s impromptu visit might have subdued his anxiety briefly, he knew it wouldn’t be a permanent fix. He spent some time away from you under the excuse of helping other people prepare more for the final paper deadline approaching, but that only made things worse. The longing he feels these days is stronger when he realizes you could be spending the valuable time he’s avoiding you by seeing Wooyoung instead. It’s embarrassing really, being so envious of someone younger than him. He shouldn’t be letting some university student get under his skin so easily, but there’s too much he’s given of himself to you to just be calm and collected about things. 

These things swirl about in his head while he’s seated alone at the bar’s counter, patiently waiting for his friends to finish playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who pays the tab tonight. It was fairly evident that it had been a rough start to the month for Yunho from his mood, so his best friends were intent on treating him tonight. Today and the next were the university-designated study days for finals. Seonghwa personally coaxed him out of hiding by stopping by his home and offering to drive. He knows Yunho has a hard time saying no when confronted directly. As karma would have it, it was looking to be an expensive night for Seonghwa unfortunately, marked by the heavy groan Yunho can hear come from behind him when the two finish.

When he finally joins Yunho at the counter, he searches through his wallet for his credit card while asking, “Which beer do you want?” 

“I need something stronger tonight,” Yunho states before flagging the bartender down himself.

Nowadays, he’s more favorable to something light and bubbly like beer because it’s easy on his body and the buzz is manageable over a longer period of time. He can’t remember the last time he drank pure liquor… It had to have been New Year’s Eve or some other holiday that’s usually burdened by alcohol. Yunho’s not remarkably sensitive to liquor and he’s by no means a lightweight, but tonight he’s truly done a number on himself. Three Long Island Iced Teas and a few extra shots of rum have him loose and on stage in front of many eyes doing what he does best: singing. Singing karaoke duets with Seonghwa always makes him feel like a college student again, bringing him back to the days of their music classes.

When the next hour comes around and several more shots enter his system, the second phase of his inebriation hits: heartache and depression. Distractions are wonderful until they’re not, and his throat hurts from doing too much falsetto. He keeps thinking about how he’s supposed to show you this side of himself eventually, serenading you like a cheesy romcom just to hear your pretty giggles telling him that he actually sounds like an angel, and those thoughts make him sad. On top of that, his social battery is depleted entirely and now all he can think about is going home. Distancing himself for the last several days is finally coming to an end, as you’re the only person he can think of to call since he doesn’t want to ruin his friends’ time by asking Seonghwa to take him back home. While booking an Uber ride would’ve been the smarter idea, Yunho’s too lovesick to pass up on a moment to hear your voice right now.

So, while Seonghwa is busy using the bathroom and San is distracted by an attractive woman who’s gone out of her way to challenge him to a game of pool, his hazy eyes manage to find your contact card in his favorites before calling you. You take a bit longer to answer than usual, but the moment he hears that familiarly sweet ‘hello there, handsome~’ come across his speaker, he physically melts into a heap on the counter. You can overhear the loud music coming through the speaker clear as day and figure he must be at the bar tonight with other teachers since they’re all essentially off tomorrow. Calling you of all people while with his friends is risky, but you understand why he’s being so reckless the moment he opens his mouth.

“I need to see you, please,” Yunho drawls, his free palm pressed to his forehead to ground himself, “Drank too much, wanna go home.”

“Where are you, Yu?”

Yunho’s heart feels like it’s ready to take flight at the way you ask this with no hesitation and how he can hear you already shuffling to grab clothes. Maybe your feelings are as strong as his afterall.

“At that dumb bar near campus. Hwa drove me,” he sighs, and you can practically hear the drunken pout stuck on his lips. “I’ll just send my location… Can you come, baby? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll come take you home. Sit tight, I’m leaving now.”

When you do finally arrive, Yunho lets his friends know that he ordered an Uber to go home, and successfully convinces Seonghwa not to walk with him outside even though his steps feel leadened. 

“Go back to karaoke,” he waves him off with an anxious smile, “I’ll let y’know when I get home.”

Parking so close to the entrance might’ve been a bit daring on your part, but you expected Yunho to have some trouble walking too far with too much distance. To offset the risk, you’re donning a black face mask with the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, and you figure that should conceal any particulars about you enough for any lurking eyes. Yunho’s surely more operational than he sounded over the phone, and even though his feet are slow on his way over, he slides in easily enough and even buckles himself in. From there, you focus on leaving the area before either of his friends gets curious enough to look outside.

The drive is comfortably silent. You keep the music low and drive a bit slower than usual to make sure he doesn’t feel too dizzy during the trip. Yes, you care for the man dearly, but the last thing you need is his vomit in your passenger seat. With his head resting idly on the cool glass of your window, he tries to relax his mind and settle the stuttering of his heart. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to be around you right now.

“Overdid it tonight, huh?” You ask him after a while to make sure he’s still conscious. 

“I don’t ever drink this much,” he replies with his eyes still closed, “M’so sorry for bothering you so late.”

“You didn’t bother me at all. Go ahead and relax, we’re almost home.”

His call was perfect timing actually, as you were just wrapping up exam prep for the day. Usually, you don’t take study days seriously, but with this being your last semester you figure giving your all includes taking advantage of the academic liberties that are offered by your university in exchange for not having to go to class. He was on your mind tonight as he always is, and even though the moment is unconventional, you appreciate him finally calling you at all. That’s all you can think about for the remainder of the drive to his home.

This is so embarrassing, he mopes internally. Yunho feels extremely vulnerable with every lug of his feet up his steps to his door. He’s not sure he ever wanted you to see him in such a state either—liquored up and liable to say anything lingering in his chest without inhibition—but it’s too late to worry about those things now. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yunho sighs upon entering his abode, shrugging off his coat and kicking his shoes off to a place he probably won’t remember tomorrow. 

His throat is dry and itching for something else, anything other than liquor. You know better than anyone that he needs to be drinking water right now and flushing his system as well. Closing his front door, you follow suit with your shoes and jacket.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” you assure him with a smile, “I’ll go get you some water.”

However, before you can slip past him, Yunho’s warm hands gently clasp around your cheeks. Your back hits the door as his sticky liquored lips squish against yours in an affectionate kiss. Much to his dismay, after only a few seconds of gratification you manage to pull back enough to talk.

“Water first, kissing later. Okay?” You chide with a giggle. 

Yunho makes a whiny noise in the back of his throat in place of a ‘no’ before stealing your lips once more. This time, his arms fall to wrap around your torso. There’s something desperate about the way his arms squeeze the air out of you as if he loosens them even in the slightest bit you might slip right from his grasp. That’s how he’s felt for some time recently like you’re slipping away right into someone else’s arms. Somewhere deep down in his intoxicated subconscious, he’s able to acknowledge the feeling of his heart slamming against his chest from pent-up anxiety of seeing you again, touching you again… and maybe lack of oxygen. Yeah, perhaps that’s what this intense feeling is building in his chest is, a blatant lack of oxygen. Breathing is just not something present in Yunho’s impaired mind. 

You, you, you, you, you!

All he wants to do is think about how he loves you more than you know.

He feels like he’s suffocating, but his brain won’t let his limbs move to breathe, lost in the thoughts and desperation of just needing to be connected to you. Just then, when he feels like he’s about to nearly pass out, you find the strength within yourself to push him from you hastily. The way you gasp for air lets him know that he was inadvertently suffocating you as well. His arms finally release their intense grip and a flurry of apologies tumble from his lips.

“M’so sorry,” he offers one last time, words running together, “I just missed you so much.”

Yunho’s head falls and rests in the crook of your neck while embarrassment floods his cheeks. 

“It’s okay, really. I missed you too,” you tell him, lungs settling while you card your fingers through his hair soothingly. He’s so fragile at this moment and seeing this side of him makes your heart melt. You could never be mad at something like a little stolen oxygen. “Let’s get you settled in first though, okay?”

“Please le’me stay like this for a couple minutes…”

He’s a bit dizzy, and your fingers lovingly massaging his scalp are making his heart feel ready to burst out of his chest. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than you, or that technically he’s an authoritative figure in your life. You’re always so soft with him, so attentive to his needs, and tender in your touch. You even came and picked him up while he was a mess, with no hesitation. For some reason, in Yunho’s inebriated mind, he’s so sure that a positive answer to this next question will finally solidify your loyalty and how you truly feel about him. 

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

There’s a moment of silence where you’re unusually still, and Yunho can practically hear your answer before you even open your mouth. Mentally, you’re battling with yourself because of premade morning plans with Wooyoung interfering with his request. Normally, you’d never decline to spend some extra time with him, but you’re not sure if blowing off Wooyoung last minute will have some consequences. Yunho’s the most important thing to you, but which choice proves that the most? 

“I have some important obligations in the morning, Yu,” you mumble a moment later, unable to outright say no. It’s hard, but you figure the best way to show him his importance to you is to put his career first, ahead of your feelings. 

In the crook of your neck you can feel him inhale, and for a second, he’s so still that you could’ve believed that he’d passed out. You’re just about to call his name when you feel him begin to tremble and snivel, and alarm bells begin blaring in your head. Lifting his head with your hands gently, you gaze up at him in panic.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You comfort him softly, thumbs on either side of his face wiping away fat tears that begin spilling down his rosy cheeks. “I’ll stay, I will. I’m so sorry baby.”

“I can’t do this anymore, ____.”

You’re no longer worried about the warm tears spilling onto your fingers as you are the immediate tightness in your chest at such simple words. Simple, but hurtful. The last time you heard that kind of sentence, it was followed by a breakup. The pang in your chest at the realization that this is what’s probably happening makes you feel sick. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t blame him if your behavior over the last few weeks ended up being the final straw for him, and if leaving him alone drunk was the cherry on top. Your diminished communication and sudden lack of availability with obligations you could not explain… and who knows what he’s heard about your increasing closeness with his TA, if anything. You ponder if maybe that’s why he has been acting differently recently, how perhaps the rumors had finally gotten back to him. It’s hard to meet his eyes while you try to prepare yourself for words you figured you hear eventually but still never built your confidence up enough for.

“Look at me, please,” he requests. It takes a moment, but you find it in yourself to do as asked. The way Yunho’s glazed-over eyes only hold dejection when you meet them lets you know something is seriously wrong. You’ve hurt him, you just know it. You’re not sure what to expect, but it surely isn’t him following up with, “I love you so much, it’s beginning to hurt, ____.”

Yunho didn’t expect this genuine divulgence that he had finally found within himself to reveal to be met with annoyance of all things. The way your brows crease and the corners of your mouth downturn throw him for a loop.

“I know you’re drunk but you really shouldn’t say a serious word like that so easily,” you chastise him in a soft voice. 

The gentleness of your tone doesn’t change the fact that you mean that statement wholeheartedly; he’s never used that word with you when sober, so why now? You don’t want to be made a fool of when these drunken words get taken back when he’s in his right mind tomorrow. Being drunk doesn’t excuse playing around with your feelings like that.

“I mean it. I do love you, so much. Not gonna pretend to be so casual about things anymore,” he retorts. While his voice still has that intoxicated twang in it, it’s now alarmingly firm.

That sudden tone and the way his face remains determined to make you understand him make your heart stutter. In the context of romance, ‘love’ is a word you haven’t heard from someone in a long time. To be fair, it’s a word you haven’t offered to anyone you’ve dated in a long time either. How long has it been since you met someone worthy of a word that powerful… You’re at a loss for words. The increasing tightness in your chest with the more you take in the situation won’t let up, and you wonder if he can feel your anxiety through the trembling of your hands still caressing his wet cheeks. 

Yunho doesn’t mind that you don’t say it back, he may be intoxicated but he still knows he’s coming on very strong right now. Instead, he adds, “You don’t have to say it back, but I can’t handle not knowing what I am to you anymore. I can’t tell how you really see me.”

The way your face immediately only offers confusion at that final statement is involuntary—his complete obliviousness to how you feel about him, about everything you’ve done till this point, is just baffling. Despite any impending consequences of being involved with your teacher, you’ve given this man so much of your time, your adoration, your body—what is there to question? When you finally take your hands back and place them on your temples, Yunho senses your frustration. He begins to feel bad when he realizes too much liquid courage may have made him go a bit too far.

“Yunho, I thought it was pretty obvious that I want to be with you. I’m just waiting for graduation to say it officially,” you explain. “I– We’ve been dating for 3 months, for Christ’s sake.”

You try to remind yourself that he’s intoxicated and that maybe you should treat this situation with a bit more grace. The next question he throws out completely shatters that mindset.

“Then why did you kiss him?”

The immediate mortification you feel at that string of words hits you like a sledgehammer, and the silence that consumes the room following this question is deafening. Yunho’s eyes hold your shameful stare before you finally become physically uncomfortable, and you avert your gaze sheepishly. Yes, you had considered he might catch you in the act sooner or later, but did it have to be the stupid unwanted kiss of all things? This is not something you had readied yourself enough to be confronted about. It’s something you wish you could’ve taken to the grave if possible.

The lack of an immediate reply to such a simple question has him pressing his palms to his eyes because he feels himself needing to cry again. He’d do anything to turn off those leaky faucets behind his eyes for good right now if he could. Crying over someone he had no business falling for in the first place is exasperating because he knew better. He’s sure he’d be able to compose himself more than this if he wasn’t so drunk as well, but it’s too late for those kinds of thoughts now. Everything is out in the open, all the way down to the intensity of his feelings for you, and there’s no turning back.

“It’s not what you think, Yunho,” you finally offer after taking some seconds to sort out your thoughts. The thing is, there is no other viable option at this point: it’s either tell him the truth or lie and break his heart further. You would never consider doing the latter. “I want to explain, but this isn’t the best time—”

“You can be honest, I promise I can handle it,” Yunho interjects. He runs his hands through his messy hair, trying to mellow himself out and prove that statement, but his insecurities start to get the best of him. Words begin spilling out of his mouth without much thought, “Is it because we can’t go out like normal couples? Am I not giving you enough attention? I know it’s tough right now but—”

“No, no, of course not! None of that matters to me in the slightest.” 

“What is it about him, then? If it’s something I can fix or do better, I will. I promise,” he tells you earnestly, but his face already looks defeated. He still can’t even say his name. Seeing him so distraught and broken like this over your actions is like a stiff punch in the gut. The last thing you ever wanted to do was make Yunho feel like he’s not enough.

Instead of answering, you ask him, “Do you trust me?” 

As much as he should be inclined to say no with everything he’s seen, or the way you won’t give him straight answers, he just can’t say no.

“Of course I do.”

“Then I’d really love for us to have this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” you insist, hands seeking out his for comfort and reassurance, “Please, Yunho.”

“And what happens if I wake up alone again?”

There it is. The hint of pessimism screaming at him in the back of his mind slipped through. He remembers the last time you left with no word and how it sent him irrationally spiraling. He just needs that final bit of reassurance.

“I’d never do that to you again, okay? I love you too much to hurt you like that. I promise.”

Yunho's left mute at this reply, damp lashes blinking repeatedly as his brain struggles to compute that you just said three very pivotal words he’s never heard from anyone else he’s ever dated. After not immediately reciprocating his sentiments earlier, he didn’t really ever expect them to come from your mouth anytime soon. 

“You…love–”

It happens way too fast, the wave of nausea that consumes him with how overwhelmed he begins to feel. Pulling his fingers away from yours, he clasps a clammy hand over his mouth and stumbles off toward his hallway bathroom in haste. This, of course, is not the ideal response you’d like to get back after fully confessing your feelings to a man. You try not to take it to heart and finally go to grab some water for him while he’s emptying his stomach in the bathroom.

The night comes to a close not too long later with you both burrowed in the blankets of Yunho’s bed, and he falls asleep against your chest faster than your brain will allow you to join. How lucky he is to have alcohol easily lull him to sleep after such a mess, you muse. You suppose this is as good of a time as ever to sort your thoughts and words for your explanation tomorrow. That and the possible consequences following you finally revealing the truth. While Yunho might seem mild-mannered and easygoing on a day-to-day basis, you are now aware of just how sensitive he is as a person inside. He feels with his whole heart, and he keeps certain things locked inside of him. You want him to feel comfortable enough to share those things with you as a partner. You want him to trust you wholly with his entire heart, but you suppose that begins with being entirely honest with him first. He’s more than enough, and you want him to believe that. Before you can let your mind wander too deep into the territory of that subject, your eyes finally feel unbearably heavy, and you fall asleep with your fingers curled around his own a little more securely than usual.

One thing Yunho prides himself in is not being prone to heavy hangovers, and this morning is no different. From his first couple years in college, he had learned that lots of water, sleeping in, and a good meal was the cheat code to his body’s ability to survive a night of binge drinking. This was partially thanks to his first roommate who was a Nutrition Major, because if he couldn’t discourage him from drinking he could at least aid him in recovering from it. Aside from you forcing him to drink a few water bottles before he could sleep, throwing up the prior night and purging most of it helped a lot as well, of course.

You’re not in bed when he stirs awake, but he can hear miscellaneous noise coming from another part of his home and smell the third element of his cheat code in progress. When he finally ambles out of his room and into his kitchen after chugging the bottle of water left on his nightstand, he finds you cooking something with what little groceries he has stocked in his fridge. The sound of him pulling out a chair at his table tears your attention away from the stove.

“Good morning,” you hum. He seems fully coherent, which makes things much easier on you. “How’s your stomach?”

Yunho rubs his bleary eyes with the back of his hand while yawning, “Much better… What time is it?”

“Around eleven, I think.”

“I thought you had something to do?”

“I canceled,” you tell him, “You’re more important.”

Earlier, while Yunho was still passed out, you found some time to slip away and call Wooyoung to raincheck. You’re not entirely sure if he believed the performance you put on about coming down with something last minute, but it didn’t matter. The least he can do is give you a day off of this charade. You move the food you’ve been working on off of the stove’s eye and turn off the heat before snatching up his mug of coffee and joining him at the table. 

You look different this morning, the way your eyes lack any of their usual whimsy or humor, and how you sit yourself to his left with body language more reserved than normal. Your stress is palpable, and that doesn’t help settle the sad feeling beginning to manifest in his stomach when he realizes the conversation that’s about to begin. Nonetheless, he decides to prepare himself for the worst.

“I promised you an explanation,” you sigh, “So let’s talk.”

Messily relaying this story to Yeosang first helped you a lot with finding the confidence to make things more concise if a moment like this were ever to happen. You were able to tell Yunho the full extent of Wooyoung’s actions without getting as emotional as the last time. Even though you were trying to be truthful, you ultimately decided not to tell him about trying to connect with Wooyoung’s ex behind the scenes, as you didn’t want to give him any false hope if things happened to fall through. When you finish spilling anything left lingering in your guts about the entire situation, there’s an unbearable silence that settles over the whole room. Yunho’s eyes are trained on his coffee, finger circling the rim of his mug while he lets his mind run wild. The guilty feeling that washes over you feels heavier and heavier with every passing second of him not replying.

“I’m really sorry,” you finally break the silence with a final apology. “It’s my fault for being so pushy in your office that day. This wouldn’t have happened if I had just taken no for an answer.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, ____,” Yunho tails your sentence quickly. The tension in your chest finally dissolves when he speaks, and hearing his caring voice is really all you can ask for right now. He reaches a gentle hand over the table to cover yours for some well-needed comfort, before offering you a soft, sober smile, “I don’t want you beating yourself up for decisions we made together. I’m a grown man who makes my own choices, don’t forget that.”

When Yunho dares to ask how far Wooyoung has made you go for him physically, you assure him the worst has only been that kiss. 

“I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t fucking suck,” he groans, brows furrowing at the thought of being so stuck between a rock and a hard place, “I would remove him from class if I could. Seeing his face is going to piss me off even more than before.”

“I understand. The semester ends in a couple of weeks though… I know it might be a lot to ask for from you to deal with, but it won’t be too much longer,” you offer resignedly, though it’s not much of a consolation. Optimism is the only thing you have worth giving him at this point. You’re only optimistic yourself while banking on his ex wanting to meet with you. When he goes from frustratedly rubbing his eyes to running a hand through his hair, you feel the need to add, “I’d understand if you don’t want to deal with that though.” Yunho turns to you, his expression one of sheer incredulity.

“You really believe I would willingly let someone like him end our relationship?” The teasing lilt in his voice is refreshing to hear, even if it is a serious question underneath. He reaches his hand over and holds your chin while assuring you, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, okay?”

“That sounds more like a threat than a promise,” you chuckle.

“Maybe he should take it that way, then.”

For the remainder of the week, Yunho tries to bear through the new knowledge that Wooyoung is somewhere on campus turning you into a puppet for his own gain. It hits harder on the days when he texts you in an effort to check in on things but is met with radio silence. He was made aware that Wooyoung preferred you off of your phone when with him, but goddamn was it annoying. For your sake, he tries to keep these kinds of grievances to himself. He knows he needs to be supportive if he can help it. During this time frame, you also secretly began your effort to contact Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend. Getting left on read with your first message was to be expected. It took her a full day before she entertained you by replying back, even if it was a little snippy. Regardless, her replying at all was a step in the right direction. She opened the door and you planned to slip your way in as best you could. Between Yeosang asking for updates, his ex contacting you sporadically throughout the days, and Yunho checking in occasionally to make sure his assistant isn’t causing you problems that he’s more than happy to fix, you decide it’s best to keep your phone face down and away from Wooyoung when you’re together this week. Even if you want to keep up with your friends to pass the time, it’s just too risky.

“You haven’t told him anything, correct?” 

Wooyoung asks this out of the blue when you both convene for breakfast on Friday. You find it funny how neither of them can say each other’s name, but you suppose Wooyoung is a bit more cautious these days to keep you from getting an attitude. You’re much too tired to even entertain such a question, but you don’t want to cause any suspicion by choosing not to answer.

You yawn after muttering, “No, why?”

“He looks at me differently these days,” he muses, pushing his fork into the plush of his lips, “It’s giving me bad vibes.”

“He has a lot on his plate with finals that you can’t help him with. I’m sure the stress is overwhelming. Cut him some slack.”

Picturing Yunho trying to give Wooyoung the evil eye when they cross paths everyday has you turning your head away, suppressing a smile to keep from laughing at the end of your sentence.

“You know better than I do,” he acknowledges with a nod and leaves the conversation at that.

Yunho begins losing a bit more of his resolve that same day when he catches Wooyoung rushing to meet you out the door after class, calling out your name right in front of his face. He doesn’t particularly care for the carefree tone of his voice, and he feels like doing something so openly is too cocky for his liking. His fingernails rake at the material of his slacks irritably from behind his podium as he opens his mouth.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho calls out before he can consult his better judgment. 

When his assistant spins to face him, Yunho finds himself at a loss for words. He didn’t really think this part through. His eyes flicker to you, who’s waiting patiently by the door for your puppetmaster to join you, then back to Wooyoung. That’s when he makes the executive decision to steal him away from you for the next hour or so. He deserves that satisfaction at least. 

“I wanted to discuss some things about my schedule regarding final papers next week, and then submitting final grades,” Yunho exhales while clasping his hands together. 

He throws in a free and easy smile to twist the knife because his assistant loses all joy in his face at his words. The brief glance you exchange with your teacher as Wooyoung reluctantly ambles back to his station holds a world of emotions, conveying everything words cannot. The gratification he receives from simply seeing you nod and smile while departing alone for the day gives him everything he needs to complete his day with renewed composure.

Mondays generally suck for Yunho, but this final one of the semester is absolutely atrocious.

Today, he’s had the worst technical difficulties in both of his morning lectures with no valuable help from the University’s IT department. One of his biggest pet peeves is not being taken seriously when he’s working, especially as a younger teacher, and it seems that they put his issues on the back burner all morning since he’s not one of the elderly professors. Regardless, he made things work even through the giggles of some students. It’s his final class before exam week begins, the least he can do is end his spiel of encouragement towards the final paper deadline on a good note.

If things had ended there, then he would’ve had a decent rest of his day. Spilling hot coffee all over his white button-up that he rarely ever even wears puts a permanent grimace on his face for the remainder of the morning. He tries his best to dab it out with water when he gets a free moment during his lunch break, but he’s one hundred percent sure he made the liquid spread much worse. Coupled with him not even being able to put his tie back on properly in an attempt to fashion it in a way that hides the stain, he’s exactly three seconds away from deciding to go home for the rest of the day. 

He decides to work through lunch in his office instead so he can end the day early once he’s finished. At least this way nobody could see how much of a mess he is today. But, after a while of Yunho holing up in his office and hiding from the rest of the world as long as he can manage, his phone vibrates with an unexpected call from San. He presses the answer option reluctantly and puts it on speaker.

Before he can even say hello, San’s voice is already excitedly asking, “You on lunch?”

“Something like that,” he chuckles weakly, and San can hear the clicks of his mouse in the background. When he hears San ‘tsk!’ in disapproval of him working, he sighs, “You know me, work’s never done. Shouldn’t you be teaching a class right now?”

“Bathroom breaks are important for everybody.”

“And you decided to call me during yours why?”

“Listen, I know you told me not to make any unannounced visits to your classroom but,” San pauses to laugh at the foolishness of what he’s about to say. “But, it seems that your student has done this to me today instead. I suppose that means today is fair game, right?”

Yunho’s hands pause their movements as he filters through his mind what exactly his friend might be referring to. When he finally recalls that line from their conversation on the day his friends briefly met you, his face pales. San adds that you seem to be dressed oh-so-pretty today and Yunho’s brows crease, not only in irritation at him talking so liberally about you but in confusion. Yunho’s prolonged silence at what should be insignificant information is duly noted in San’s mind. 

Truth be told, San did not call Yunho just for shits and giggles. A few days ago, during a shared lunch break, Seonghwa had come to him secretly about Yunho’s recent behaviors:

“You can’t be serious Seonghwa,” San laughs wholeheartedly at his friend’s implications. “Yunho is a bit desperate these days, but he’s not that desperate.” 

“You can’t say I’m being delusional.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that it probably isn’t what it seems like.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes so far back that it almost hurts, “Enlighten me on why he’s being so secretive when I ask then.”

“You asked him about her directly?”

“Not exactly… but I asked him about dating someone,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair and sighs, “He told me nothing. Barely even got a peep about where he met the woman. A Tinder match has got him so quiet? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“And you think it’s his student because of what exactly?”

“I didn’t say anything at the time but I saw a glimpse of his phone a month or so ago,” Seonghwa snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the details, “That night we went to that fancy lounge uptown, remember?”

“And?”

“When he was using the bathroom, he left his phone face up on the couch. I didn’t mean to pay too much attention to it, but it lit up with a text and I recognized the name.”

San pushes the food around in his Tupperware with pursed lips while he tries to rationalize this revelation. Seonghwa does have a point… Why in the world would you have been texting him at 10 PM? San’s a pretty laid-back teacher himself, but none of his students have his personal number. All teachers do things differently though, he knows this. Still…

San lowers his voice to ask, “What did the message say?”

“I didn’t see that part,” his friend continues, the disappointment in his voice making San snicker, “He came back too quickly. I mentioned it in passing though, and he said they text occasionally about her schoolwork.”

Seonghwa uses his fingers to put air quotations around that last word; as if he’d ever believe a student is texting their teacher close to midnight about “schoolwork”. He’s slightly offended that Yunho thinks he’s that much of a fool.

“That’s not that implausible—”

“I’m calling bullshit. She’s at the very least got a crush on him and he’s playing into it,” Seonghwa states plainly. 

San resumes eating his lukewarm leftovers, humming, “I really don’t think he would risk getting fired over hooking up with his student. We barely even see him flirt with people outside of work… Anything beyond that just isn’t him. You know this.”

The conversation didn’t last much longer than that, and San had effectively convinced Seonghwa to simply mind his business at the time. He ponders for a second if he should have a serious talk with Yunho about the repercussions that could come to him if Seonghwa’s speculations were true, as he obviously doesn’t want to see one of his best friends lose their job. San may joke around a lot about these kinds of things, and he’s overly flirtatious with a numerous amount of people that may or may not include younger women, but he knows he’d never cross the line and put his job in jeopardy like that. 

It’s always been complicated. Yunho is an exceptionally loyal person and a hopeless romantic, but very few people get to see that side of him. San has seen plenty of women attempt to pursue him with both good and bad intentions, and Yunho has difficulty deciphering sometimes. That being said, when his friend is head over heels for someone, there is nothing he won’t do. There have been plenty of times when Yunho has done some stupid things because of stupid impulses when it comes to women he falls hard for. Don’t get him started about when he had to talk him out of getting a tattoo just because a girl he fell for told him she preferred “bad boys” when turning him down. He feels with all of his heart, and that’s honestly something San admires about his friend. 

He supposes while he has him on the phone, he should push the boundaries to see how he replies. 

“She’s been outside of my class for nearly half an hour,” San continues in a nonchalant voice, stoking the fire, “I was wondering if I should invite her to join in on the lecture, maybe chat—”

Unfortunately for San, Yunho’s already having a bad enough day, and he doesn’t need his friend joking about trying to pick up his woman. 

“Do not bother her,” Yunho interrupts him in a voice with a steely edge that makes the instruction come out slightly more bitter than he intends it to. He immediately regrets letting that kind of emotion slip through and becomes bashful, quickly sputtering a playful jab at his friend instead, “Getting a girl’s attention without buying her a drink first? That would be an amazing feat from you anyway.”

“Getting a girl’s attention at all recently would be an amazing feat for you too,” San quips back with a laugh, but he makes a mental note of this peculiar reaction. It surely doesn’t help extinguish Seonghwa’s conspiracies planted in his head. “Anyway, my class ends in half an hour, so I’m sure she’s just waiting for a friend to come out.”

At that suggestion, a thought crosses Yunho’s mind that makes his stomach churn. 

“San, tell me something. Do you have a student named Wooyoung Jung in your class?”

“I do indeed, how did you know?”

I’ve got to be losing my mind… 

That’s the only explanation Yunho can come up with as to why he’s speed-walking from his building in the middle of campus to the one that hosts San’s class a handful of minutes away. It’s brisk out, evident by the sharp chill of early December running down his back with every quick stride, but it’s a perfect excuse for why his cheeks are so red. He’s not flustered, he’s just cold… of course.

The moment he spots you rocking back and forth on your feet in front of San’s lecture hall, patiently thumbing away at your phone, his chest aches. You’re dolled up today just like San alluded to, wearing a pretty dress that he’s never even seen you in before. Coupled with some makeup and your hair done charmingly, he gets flashbacks to when you both went on your very first dinner together. This doesn’t fare well with Yunho’s mood.

The tap he does on your shoulder startles you enough to elicit a squeal, and that shock doesn’t change even when you realize it’s Yunho beckoning for your attention. 

“I– What are you doing here?”

When Yunho’s brows furrow in offense at your question, you wince. You don’t mean to sound like the last thing you want to do is see him right now, but this is not the best time for him to be showing himself. The last thing you need is for him and Wooyoung to cross paths outside of the classroom with you directly in the middle. Nevertheless, you don’t even get an answer to that query. The moment your arm is snatched and your feet drag while your captor hauls you away from your waiting spot, you internally scold yourself about how you’re probably the easiest kidnapping victim ever. To be fair, he’s a lot stronger than he looks.

“Wait, I have a date with Wooyoung–” 

“I do not care,” he snaps back.

He doesn’t bother responding to any more of your attempts of chiding him, eyes too busy following the signs that guide him to where the nearest restroom is. When he stumbles upon an unoccupied handicapped restroom, he sighs in relief and pulls you in before closing and locking the door. 

“What is wrong with you?” You sputter in a dumbfounded, hushed voice. 

Yunho’s face is splotchy, and he’s visibly agitated while his eyes dodge between your outfit and your face, “Why do you look like that?”

What a silly question, truly. 

In his mind, the problem lies within who you’re looking so beautiful for, and not the fact that you look beautiful at all. Yunho rarely gets to see you as it is, but this prick’s got you dressing up for him? Surely this isn’t necessary, because you’re beautiful enough to make anyone jealous as you already are. In his eyes, anyway.

“I just told you I have a date and I needed to look nicer,” you argue. Before he can muster up another pointless question, you fold your arms across your chest, “Right now is really not the time to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m annoyed.”

“Then why are we here, Yunho?” His eyes finally shy away from yours when you motion to your surroundings. He hates it when you use his first name like this because he knows that often accompanies the tone of displeasure. The last thing he wants to do is upset you. You sigh, “Can’t you hold out just a little longer?”

“Dressing up so pretty for him doesn’t help me feel any better.”

“Making a scene about it doesn’t necessarily help anything either, does it?”

You’d snicker at the shameful silence that follows that statement if the situation wasn’t so genuinely distressing to him. He’s genuinely upset, you get it. You’d never admit it out loud, but a piece of you likes seeing him like this: wound-up, needy, and protective. The roles were reversed not too long ago about Wooyoung particularly, so seeing him show that same yearning and agitation when the tables are turned, even if it’s in terrible circumstances, makes you feel validated. Still, you do what you can to ease his mind for now.

“You’re too handsome to be this envious, love,” you murmur sweet nothings. He remains silent, letting those words swirl around in his head while you reach out to fiddle with the kink in his tie until it’s fixed. His lip juts out when you chuckle at the stain sullying his shirt underneath. Your eyes gaze up at his fondly before you add, “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m yours and yours only before you start believing it?” 

Yunho soaks in every syllable of that soothing voice of yours while his eyes settle on your glossy lips when they talk. Anything not to look at those eyes that could surely make him get on his knees and apologize profusely for causing a scene. He’s so predictable sometimes, you muse. You’re sure a kiss or two to help settle his jealousy before you have to leave won’t hurt anyway.

Just as you predicted, he can’t help himself, and the feeling of his impatient hands grabbing at your waist and his lips slotting over yours ignites this fire inside the pit of your stomach. Your butt hits against the counter of the bathroom sink and your hands try to find purchase on his blazer.

“Reminders never hurt, right?” he breaks briefly to mumble before slipping his tongue into your mouth. You indulge him, falling victim to that sinful mouth of his as you always do.

And, sure, maybe kissing you should be enough to quell such intense feelings inside of him, but it’s just not. The thought that Wooyoung also has the ability to kiss you whenever he wants to enhance whatever convoluted plan he has going on makes it almost insignificant. Instead, his hands haphazardly drift under the hem of your dress, because he’s the only one allowed to touch you like this. He hopes so, anyway. 

His warm fingers drag up the soft skin of your inner thighs with no hesitation, and your hands grapple onto his blazer tightly when he reaches the apex to stop briefly at your clothed cunt. Yunho swallows the surprised yelp you let out into his mouth when he begins to rub up and down, pressing on your clit through the cotton and feeling how damp you already are just from kissing him. God, it never gets old, the way he turns you on so easily. You shudder when he tugs your panties to the side and drags his lips in wet kisses from your lips to your ear.

“I’m gonna be late, Yu…” you complain, voice airy and whiny when his thumb rubs at your clit.

“I’m really sorry,” he murmurs while kissing the shell of your ear, “I’m just really pissed off today. You understand, right, angel?”

He punctuates that statement by finally slipping two fingers into your sopping cunt.

Yunho’s a mess. 

He stares at himself in the mirror behind you while his fingers busy themselves with pushing in and out of your cunt. How did he get to such a point, experiencing so many intense emotions over someone he never should’ve fallen in love with in good conscience? How did he end up in this bathroom with his fingers evoking such sloppy noises from between your legs? He stares at how flushed he is in the cheeks with your glittery lipgloss smeared all over his lips and beyond. This is beyond silly…

Yunho swears he’s not actually such a jealous person, he swears, but the current circumstances are doing a number on his mental health. He deliberately curls his fingers up against that plushy spot he loves to find within you and watches tremors travel through your back. Aside from some tiny gasps and whimpers that are barely audible unless you’re close enough to hear them, you’ve learned your lesson on being quiet in these situations, and you keep your lips pressed together tightly. The way your knees are buckling and your hands are clutching onto him for dear life—yes, this is just what he needs. He’s never felt such an intense need to see someone cum in his life.

“Do you want more?” Yunho suddenly breathes against your ear, pressing a loving kiss on your warm skin before pulling back to look you in the eyes, “I’ll do whatever you want me to, even if you just want me to stop.”

As God is his witness, he means every word. He’ll get down on his knees and suck an orgasm from you if you want him to. He’ll hold you against the wall and fuck any word other than his name out of your head if you want him to. To be honest, deep down he just wants to see if you’d blow off your date with this nuisance—even for just a few minutes—to let him satisfy you. Those shiny eyes of yours innocently blinking at his inquiry could make him melt on the spot. You don’t know how much time has passed since you got dragged in here, or how much time there is left of Wooyoung’s class, but your hands move faster than your brain when considering these things as a problem. 

His fingers slip out of your core and into his mouth the moment your hands drop to fumble with his belt hurriedly. There are no words spoken, and the only sounds filling the quiet air of the bathroom are Yunho’s belt buckle coming undone and clattering against the floor tiles once his pants are shoved down. He pushes down his underwear and quickly fists his cock while you turn to bend over the sink. It doesn’t take much to get him hard because seeing you so wet and ready for him to stretch you out with no care for anything else turns him on to the highest degree. 

After tugging your panties down what he deems is enough, he doesn’t even bother teasing and prods at your hole so eagerly that it’s almost embarrassing. The soft gasp you both share when Yunho’s tip fully slips into your cunt by accident makes your stomach manifest butterflies. 

Your hands grip the edges of the counter while he continues pushing forward, mouth agape and brows drawn together while watching the way the tight skin stretches around him and sucks him in greedily. When you finally feel his thighs meet yours, you release a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding heavy in your lungs. 

“You’re so wet, slipped in so easily,” he huffs, giving you an experimental thrust to see all your arousal coat his cock again before he bunches your dress around your waist in his hands. “Gonna be good for me and stay quiet, right?”

“I should ask you the same,” you whisper, giving him a coy gaze through the mirror. 

The smirk tugging at his lips in place of laughing is followed by a knowing nod, and you close your eyes when he finally begins moving his hips. Yunho has no intention of purposefully rushing things to get you back to your obligations any quicker than him bringing you here. Even so, he isn’t going slow or taking his time like he treated you the last time you had sex. No, this is an exceptionally needy fuck today, with hasty, desperate thrusts that make his eyes flutter closed and chest feel heavy with noises of arousal just begging to creep out. He just can’t help himself; Yunho swears your cunt was perfectly crafted just for him. 

When he feels your knees buckle after one particular angled thrust, he groans lowly, “Right there, angel?” 

With a nod of your head, Yunho's hands move from your dress to your hips, fingertips digging deep into the plush skin while he reciprocates that previous thrust over and over and over until you’re gripping the sink spout to maintain some of your sanity. 

“I need more Yu, please,” you beg him in a whisper, cock-drunk eyes meeting his own in the mirror, “More, more—please—harder.”

You want nothing more than for him to just grab a fist full of your hair and make a mess of your sopping cunt—to ruin your makeup and send you back out to Wooyoung looking like a mess. You crave that pure and raw act of Yunho showing him who you truly belong to. Knowing your lover, he wouldn’t decline the opportunity to assert his dominance in this situation, but you have enough self-control to keep those desires to yourself. He’s giving you enough to handle anyway, firmly pressing your stomach to this counter with strong hands and settling on a brutal pace to satisfy your request. The sounds of skin slapping skin echo amongst desperate pants and gasps from you both every time he bottoms out just as fast as he pulls back.

The steamy air of the bathroom is interrupted when your phone begins ringing on the counter. You know it’s probably Wooyoung finally out of class and wondering where you are. You can’t blame him, as you had explicitly told him you’d be waiting for him outside the classroom. 

Even so, you can’t seem to care enough to remove your focus from Yunho, your unwavering eyes still locked on his own through the mirror as he continues snapping his hips into you quickly. Yunho would be lying if he said this attention didn’t go straight to his head. He knows you shouldn’t ever have to prove it, but the reassurance he feels from seeing your devotion to him in real time makes his chest tight with adoration. The way nobody else matters to you right now, and how he’s the center of your attention, chips away at every inch of jealousy he was feeling earlier. 

Yunho’s hands abruptly pull you off the sink by your arms and up against him. This new position with your back arched and you on your toes has you seeing constellations, and you know you probably aren’t going to last much longer with the way he’s also heaving just behind your ear. When one hand of his moves down to rub sticky circles on your clit, you presume he’s close as well. Yunho feels like he’s going crazy, mind spinning with thoughts of if you keep squeezing him like this, he might just accidentally cum—

“Inside,” you whimper, “Please.”

He finds himself groaning against your skin, teasing you by breathing, “Going on a date with another man’s cum in you’s kinda rude, no?”

“Don’t care, please, please.”

As usual, how can he say no when you beg so cutely? He did say he’d do whatever you want, after all. Your eyes flutter closed and you focus on the final sounds of Yunho’s soft grunts and your shaky exhales mingling in the air while he ruts up into you quickly. It always seems like he knows your body better than you know yourself these days because his hand covers your mouth before he gives the last few sharp thrusts that precede him finally spilling into you, and he successfully stifles the desperate moan you would’ve let fly out once you fall apart in his arms. 

“Quiet– Oh fuck, that’s it,” Yunho hisses, letting out a soft moan at the way you struggle to stand while your legs tremble and your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. He’s dangerously too addicted to this feeling already; you should’ve never introduced something so heavenly to him. He can’t stop his hips from beginning to buck again in messy strokes, intent on fucking you through your orgasm even if he’s sensitive himself. Watching the way you bite down on your lip to keep quiet as told, he whispers well-deserved praises in between kissing your skin, “Taking it so well, sweet girl. You really were made for me. Shhh, I’ve got you.”

Yunho only stops himself when your body becomes pliant in his arms, fully surrendering to fatigue and overstimulation. He waits patiently until you can put your weight back onto your feet before finally releasing his grip. When he finally pulls himself out, he’s not quick enough to step away, and his seed spills from you onto his pants still pooled around his ankles. The handful of curses spilling from his mouth at his fuck-up has you shushing him in between breathless laughs. 

“I’m an idiot,” he groans.

“Yes, and that’s exactly what you get for dragging me in here.”

Yunho spends a handful of minutes using wet napkins to make his pants look a little more presentable while you do the same with the mess you’ve both made soiling the insides of your thighs. He doesn’t even try to hide the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips while inconspicuously watching you try your best to get his cum to stop seeping out of your core. There’s just not enough to properly clean up, and he finds this just as gratifying as getting you here in the first place. To be fair, you were the one who told him that you didn’t care. On that note, he goes to grab your discarded phone and ushers it your way eagerly. 

“You should call your date and let him know you’ll be wherever very soon,” he insists, “I’m sure he’s waiting patiently.”

“Rushing me out after throwing such a fit is crazy,” you mutter while pulling your panties back up. You’re sure he’s just obsessed with the thought of his cum making a cameo on your date.

“A man can’t change his mind?”

As you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, quickly dabbing at your neck with napkins to clean any smeared lip gloss, Yunho leans against the bathroom wall and tries to decide how long he should wait in the bathroom before leaving after you. Between watching the way you apply a fresh coat to your lips and entering post-nut clarity, he’s a bit too scatterbrained to think about this critically, but he’s brought back to the moment when you finally spin around with a sigh.

“Do I look okay?”

There’s a bit of anxiety hidden in that question, evoked by the fear of looking disheveled or being perfumed with the smell of sex, but those thoughts are quickly extinguished when he gives you those eyes that look as though he’s falling in love with you all over again. Maybe it’s that special afterglow that sex grants, but to him, in this moment you look even better than when you enter this bathroom with him. You’re exceptionally beautiful at all times, and he doesn’t even have to answer that question for you to know his thoughts. After planting a quick peck of farewell on his cheek, Yunho stays hidden away against the wall out of view of the door so you can finally leave and call Wooyoung. He’ll hold off on teasing you about the little limp in your walk until you see each other again in private.

The following day, you find yourself seated alone at the familiar table tucked away in the back of the library, the very spot where you and Yeosang often retreated for private discussions. Wooyoung’s ex was supposed to be seated in front of you 10 minutes ago. I’m giving her 5 more minutes before I leave. She was the one who finally asked you to meet with her after a bit of cordial back and forth, so being late to her own plans didn’t necessarily make you as sympathetic to her situation as before. You suppose you should give her a little more grace, considering this is your only opportunity to try and put an end to the madness of Wooyoung’s chasing. Still, you’re a busy woman who needs to prepare for your first exam tomorrow.

“____?” 

A soft voice emerges from behind you that has you craning your head to seek out its owner.

“Hello,” you greet her, and your eyes follow her as she ambles around the table to set down her bag to settle in across from you. “Didn’t know if you were still going to show up.”

“I apologize for being late,” she sighs, embarrassment blossoming on her cheeks. With her first question, she wastes no time delving into the purpose of your meeting, “So, how long have you and Woo been dating?”

Due to her Instagram page being locked down, you hadn’t seen very many pictures of her before this meeting. You were only able to get glimpses of her in a scarce amount of posts on her sorority’s page that included all sisters. In person, she’s exceptionally beautiful, and you expected nothing less of someone being so heavily pursued. Your blatant staring and lack of reply to her question have her glancing at you quizzically.

It’s a bit surreal at first, but it finally sinks in that sitting in front of you is the very person of Wooyoung’s desires. An involuntary giggle escapes you at how silly this situation is, as you were never really prepared to be confronted by the very girl Wooyoung kept you from knowing this whole time. She was merely a faceless hindrance to your life, to the point of even doubting her existence at one point. Your reaction doesn’t fare well with her, and she’s noticeably bothered at being laughed at. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you offer a genuine apology before leaning onto the table on your elbows and admitting truthfully, “Not too long at all, just about a month.” 

Still, way too long, you’d like to add. Even though she visibly relaxes at this revelation, you can see a conflicting look flicker behind her eyes.

“I still don’t really understand why you contacted me,” she sighs, but the look in her eyes just doesn’t correspond. 

You’re sure she knows exactly why you reached out and exactly what you want to say; surely she already knows she is all Wooyoung wants. During this conversation, you had planned to tell a series of half-truths. She didn’t need to know how you got wrapped up in this mess, but you figured it’d be helpful to admit that Wooyoung only thinks of her when he’s with you. Maybe you’d give her some empathetic spiel about how you “think” he hasn’t moved on from his feelings for her, and make it a bit emotional on your end. Despite those words dancing on the tip of your tongue, ready to give your best performance, you realize that she looks as if she wants to do your job for you. So, you play into it and let her take the wheel.

“You look like you want to ask me something,” you observe, “I’m all ears.”

Sitting up a bit more erect in her chair, she meets your eyes head-on.

“I’d like to ask you if…” But, her voice falters before she can get to the tail of her request. 

You wonder if it’s a pride thing that’s keeping her from being honest with herself. She wants him back, you’re sure of it, but she’s the one who broke things off initially. Maybe she’s embarrassed, you muse. You suppose you could gently guide the conversation, posing the question she hesitates to voice herself.

“Do you want me to break up with him?” You ask forthrightly.

“I do,” she finally confesses, “I was hesitant about rekindling our relationship, but you reaching out to me made me feel more confident that I should ask. I’m so sorry.”

Feigning indecision is easy, and pretending to fight your feelings about the situation is the cherry on top. It wouldn’t be believable if you gave up too easily, so the uncomfortable silence is more than necessary. The false front is believable enough because she cuts into the tense silence before you can even respond.

“I made a mistake and I would just like a second chance with him. I know I’m asking for a lot from you, and I want him to be happy, but I can’t pretend that I don’t still love him anymore,” she rambles on, trying her best to be authentic, “We were together for quite some time and—”

“I’m aware,” you finally interject. When she downcasts her eyes, you perch your head in your palm and sigh, “Wooyoung is still in love with you as well. I don’t want to be with someone who’s still caught up on someone else anymore. You understand?”

The way her eyes light up at this revelation makes yours soften. Even though Wooyoung’s actions may be maddening to you, you can tell he genuinely brings her joy. They both truly love each other.

“I don’t know how to go about this,” she admits after a moment of thought.

"Just tell him you want him back. He'll probably end things with me right away," you say bluntly. You feel it's best to give her a gentle nudge to act sooner rather than later, though. So, you add, "I think he’s been planning a trip for us after finals, but I'm sure he'd rather go with you. Please, do it soon."

Underscoring the word please to her might come across as begging, but at this point, you are beyond caring. Going your separate ways after closing this conversation feels like a hefty weight lifted off of your shoulders. In the end, you’ve done what needed to be done in terms of setting the stage; now it was time for her return to the spotlight as the lead. 

The next morning, you awaken to a text from Wooyoung finally breaking your arrangement off. He doesn’t go into any specifics of what happened, but at any rate, you don’t need or care to know. As far as you’re concerned, he’s fully evaporated from your life the moment you delete his text thread. You find that your coffee and breakfast taste better than normal with one less weight of stress hanging over your head. Exchanging many [Good luck!] texts with Yunho has him subsequently requesting to meet with you after today’s exam. That is how you ended up dawdling around your favorite aisle in the campus bookstore just before lunch. You had decided to turn in your textbook rentals early and put all of your faith in your notes for these next few days. The only other thing really lingering over your head was to finally turn in your final paper for Yunho’s class before midnight.

You start to get a bit impatient when Yunho fails to show up after your proposed meeting time, and you wonder if maybe he’s in the wrong spot. With calculated steps, you begin to roam the nearby shelves, reluctant to call out his name too many times in such a quiet place. There are only but so many aisles he could be in within this store anyway. After a couple of minutes peeking into different empty aisles, you finally decide he’s simply just late. You venture back to your original aisle and decide to browse in the meantime; this is the last time you’d ever be stepping foot in this place, so it couldn’t hurt to chew over a last-minute purchase. No matter how frequently this aisle has seen your presence in the last few years, you never fail to find something new that piques your interest. Unfortunately, today’s mark is a small book with the prettiest spine, and it sits just out of your reach on the top shelf. Being unobtainable only makes your curiosity even more inevitable.

Stretching every muscle in your body as far as it’ll give to try and at least graze the spine fails; there’s just no use, and it seems appealing to simply give up. The moment you finally fall back on the heels of your feet, you can feel the sturdiness of a chest slyly pressing against your back while reaching for that very same book just out of your reach. 

“You should really be more aware of your surroundings,” Yunho’s smooth voice hums next to your ear after feeling you freeze up underneath his presence. He plucks the book from the shelf with ease and sighs. You can feel his breath fan out on your neck and even smell the mint on his breath when he adds a playful jab, “Short stuff.”

“And you should really be more punctual,” you quip back, trying your best to ignore his proximity. 

He’s dressed casually today, charmingly sporting a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater since classes are officially over. If you didn’t already know who he was, a simple glance would have you thinking he was a student himself.

“Oh c’mon pretty, at least I’m here like I said I’d be, right?” He reasons excitedly while offering you a toothy grin that’s way too cute for your liking. The gentle tap of the book on the crown of your head has you scrunching up your nose, and he sets it aside. “You sure this section is private enough?”

“One hundred percent. I used to sit here in my free time when I wanted to read books without buying them,” you admit, adding, “No cameras over here either.”

Yunho eyes you curiously. You're practically glowing today, evident to him by the smile you can’t seem to keep off of your face even when you feign annoyance at his tardiness. He presses a hand to the shelf ledge behind you while the other finds solace in his pocket with his belongings.

“What’s got you so happy today?”

He’s torn between whether you’ll say something about already being rid of one exam, or maybe your spontaneous rendezvous with him here has you that giddy. Your eyes gaze back into his expectant ones and you find yourself finally able to relax for the first time in many weeks. 

“It’s all over, Yunho.”

Normally, a sentence like that would seem ominous, but the wide stretch of your lips has his poor heart shooting into his throat. It’s the way your eyes are lit while saying his name that really gets him. His pocketed hand finds its way to your cheek and his thumb skims the apple of your cheek. This kind of smile is something he hopes he can evoke from you on his own in the near future.

“I really missed seeing you this happy,” he confesses, “You look like you can breathe again, ____.”

Something about the way those soft chocolate eyes of his are openly admiring every inch of your face, committing this kind of happiness from you to memory, has you shrinking back in shyness and averting your gaze.

Eager to move the spotlight off yourself, you inquire, “So… why’d you wanna meet up here?”

Oh, that’s right…

Yunho’s decision to drive to campus today mainly stemmed from the fact that you would already be here. He didn’t want you to have to go out of your way just for him to see you, especially after an exam. A clandestine meeting in the bookstore, which you assured him beforehand would be devoid of many students, seemed like a feasible option. He moves to wrap his arms around you, pressing you against his chest in a firm embrace. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist.

“It’s going to be a very busy week for me with grading final papers all by myself,” Yunho begins tentatively. 

His eyes close and he focuses on slowing down his heart that’s beating a bit too prominently in his chest when your ear is pressed against it. There are a lot of emotions coursing through him today, many he can’t quite decipher, although he supposes maybe that’s just everything he’s been feeling throughout the entire semester coming to a head: love, jealousy, desperation, angst, and more. Even amongst the newfound happiness blossoming within his chest at such a detrimental obstacle being overcome, anxiety is still the most overwhelming feeling consuming him. It’s a bit nerve-wracking inching closer and closer to the final moments where he can confidently say you’re his with no repercussions. He’s been reflecting on how things will change between you both when finally crossing over this hump, and how things will flourish sans the threats to your futures. He doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself, though.

“Continue,” you encourage him, “I’m listening.”

“I just wanted to see you in person before I have to disappear, and tell you that I know you’re going to do amazing on your exams,” Yunho’s gentle voice imparts. He lowers it further to add, “I’m very proud of you and…”

When he trails off, you turn to plant your chin on his chest and peer up at him with coy eyes, “And?”

“And… I love you,” he whispers, eyes flickering up for the briefest second to confirm you’re still in solitude. 

Your gentle laughter at his neverending caution is like music to his ears. He’s still learning how to comfortably say those words without being fearful of not hearing them back. The feeling of his arms letting you go in favor of his hands holding either side of your face steals the opportunity to return his words of adoration. Instead, you put those unspoken words into the kiss he doesn’t hesitate to initiate. When you reach up and pull him by the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and encouraging him to let go, he feels his nerves finally melt away for this moment and this moment only. Yunho pulls away before he can get too lost in the feeling of not caring where you both are, and the way you’re led to chase his lips has heat prickling your cheeks.

“You know, the store’s nearly empty… Might even just be me and you,” you hum. Yunho’s eyes don’t leave yours, even as he feels your hand mischievously skirt down his chest to tap at the belt buckle under his sweater. When your fingers dare to dance further down to the crotch of his jeans, he finally takes hold of your wrist. “Oh come on, are you still nervous?”

He shakes his head confidently, “Just think it’d be more fun to reward you once your exams are over. Making you wait a lil might be fun, no?”

“You sure you can go a couple weeks without it?” You taunt him with a cock of your head. “All that stress while grading finals adds up, no?”

“Is this coming from the same woman who spent two weeks away from me in the arms of another man before I knew about it?” He immediately counters, eyebrows dancing with mischief. “I’ll be just fine. You, on the other hand, are a needy little thing it seems.”

“Don’t make me consider going back,” you warn him.

Yunho’s eyes find the ceiling as he inhales a deep, frustrated breath. Provoking him like this is unfair and dirty. If he were a man with no self-control, he’d have half a mind to have you in this aisle on your knees, putting that mouth to better use than spouting such nonsense. For now, he simply purses his lips and nods curtly. 

“That’s okay, be that way,” he concedes in a voice low enough for your ears only, “Because the next time I get my hands on you…” 

He trails off while palming your ass through your leggings and squeezing to his heart’s content. The yelp you let out at his fingers sinking in a little deeper than usual makes a pleased smile tug at his lips. He’d say a lot more, let those lewd thoughts entering his mind go freely for once, but the sounds of feet shuffling not too far away shut him up just as fast as he could think to say them. You both separate abruptly and face opposite shelves. How disappointing…

Yunho clears his throat before finally sighing, “On that note, I look forward to receiving your paper tonight.”

“I look forward to you reading it, Mr. Jeong,” you hum, and he can hear the smile lingering on your words. It’s been quite some time since he heard such formalities come from your mouth. “I hope it ends up being worth the wait. You did help me craft it, after all.”

Behind you, his warm chuckle is followed by him laying a comforting hand on your head. 

“See you at graduation, ____,” he whispers. 

When he departs, being left alone doesn’t feel so lonely for once.

♡ taglist: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr @txt-yaomi @thisisntmyrightera @oreoqueen @jadeneliz @atinism @uarmytess @nopension @aaaaajonghooooo @tmtxtf @ateezallday @bloomyroses @shingene @likexaxdaydream @innsomniacshinestar @st4rhwa @eixila @sunflower-png @jadeneliz @witchlaughwoo @ashlurrr @justthattheatregirl @bts-army380 @trivia-134340 @marvelous-llama @uarmytess @hyukssunflower @ateez-atiny380 @dazzlingstarrs @fxckinmingi @348kg @moonlightgrleric @kirilunimimi @tvxqnnie

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!oc, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; changes are being made! see this post to learn more. to me, this part seems a little like a filler, but i want to explore veronica as a character and develop each relationship with each character as something more than a side character, not just honing in on her relationship with jj, which of course is a huge part of the story also.

part one. part two. part three.

when veronica begins to stir, the sun had long set. there was no way of knowing how long the pair had been asleep, all she knew was the lights of the chateau were off and there was a bright pink post it note stuck to jj’s head.

‘gone fishin’. jb pissed.’

pope signed off on the note, a small smiley face drawn inside the o of his name. veronica knew the pouges hadn’t actually gone fishing, that is was some sort of code jj would decipher when he came to.

in this moment, veronica was content. wrapped in the arms of the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

what could only be described as a war was ongoing in her head. she wasn’t exactly one to believe in love at first sight, she thought this entire ‘spark’ thing was something made up by male authors to keep women reading their shitty romance books to keep them hooked, waiting for it to happen to them.

but then she met jj, and he was like a magnet. every time veronica was in his presence she was mesmerised, whenever he was gone she felt like all the colour was drained from the world.

there was only two problems.

there was a maximum of forty eight hours that they knew each other, add to that he was her brothers best friend, then add to that said brother made it crystal clear that inter-group dating was not allowed.

oh, and then the whole ‘nobody knows i’m his sister but us’ thing.

“you’re staring, baby” jj mumbled, his voice low and tired as he stirred beneath her “can’t say i blame you”

with a sarcastic scoff, veronica sits upright in the hammock, her legs laid out across the blonds lap “just admiring the drool on your face”

“aren’t you funny.”

comfortable silence follows, jj crosses his arms behind his head and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. even though she was staring off into the water, veronica could feel jj’s eyes on her.

“can i help you?” veronica quipped, a teasing lilt to her words as she face the boy in question “use your words, you’ll get there.”

unexpectedly, jj sighs and lets his head fall back “what am i doing?”

veronica knows he didn’t intent for her to hear him, but she did. she would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed, but she was even more disappointed in herself at the pang of sadness that hit her.

before she can say, or do, anything, jj is sat up a little straighter and speaking again.

“listen, you’re a really cool girl,” he pauses, shaking his head and starting again “you’re hot as shit, damn it!”

barely, veronica manages to mask her giggle with a cough.

“don’t ask me how or why, but i gotta tell you i’m super into you.” he blurts out “yeah, makes no fuckin’ sense, we barely know each other, no pouge on pouge macking, you ain’t feeling me like that-“

her body is moving before her brain can even comprehend what she’s doing, chipped nail polish framing blond hair as she held his face in her hands and pressed their lips together.

then, her brain kicks in, and veronica jumps back like she’d just been burnt.

“fuck, jay i’m so sorry. i wasn’t thinking,”

seconds pass agonisingly slow and veronica can’t help but think about just how badly she had just fucked up.

but she doesn’t get to overthink for long.

a calloused hand tangled in long, brown hair. the other gripping her waist like it was a lifeline, helping her into his lap as his tongue makes its way into her mouth.

the kiss is messy, it’s desperate. like two people drowning, taking in the other like they were air. hands cling to whatever they can, afraid if they let go it would all be over.

any reservations veronica may have had about ‘the spark’ were discarded, undermined even, this wasn’t a spark, it was fireworks.

but fireworks don’t last forever, and when the sound of john b’s rickety van can be heard drawing closer. the newfound excitement being dulled by the shadow known as a protective older brother, a protective best friend.

by the time the missing pouges pour out of the twinkie, veronica and jj are in much less compromising positions, now sitting beside each other trading menial conversation about the earlier events of the day.

“welcome back to the land of the living,” kiara teases, a yellow vape coming up to her mouth as she took a hit “you two were out cold.”

instinctively, veronica’s hand shot out, wordlessly pleading for a hit of her vape. with a groan, kie handed it over.

veronica lets her head fall back against the hard oak of the tree behind her, relishing the feeling of her first hit of nicotine in two days. she had a vape when she left home, but it died before she even made it to the outer banks and being broke meant she couldn’t even go buy a replacement.

“you could’ve woke us up, y’know” jj defended, trying his hardest to act as if nothing happened, reminding himself to stop staring.

pope scoffs, not missing the longing stares sent the brunettes direction but purposefully ignoring them “we tried, it nearly cost us our lives.”

unamused, john b walks past the rest of the group in silence. when he gets to the door of the chateau he looks over his shoulder and nods for veronica to follow.

the girl is suddenly more attentive, climbing over the human embodiment of a golden retriever and padding her way into the house behind the older of the two.

“does the name redfield mean anything to you?” john b questions, passing a beer from the fridge and getting one for himself “like, the surname.”

veronica is quiet, her finger tracing the rim of the can as she goes through every crevice of her brain in search of any name even remotely close, there’s only one.

“chris redfield.” she answers with a nod, popping the tab of the can and taking a swig “but i don’t get how he’s involved.”

“why not? who is he!?”

“a video game character.”

with a huff of annoyance john b drags a chair across the kitchen to sit beside veronica, unscrewing his compass and placing it down on the table. the name ‘redfield’ is carved into the metal.

“we went back to the boat, found a motel key, whatever.” john b shrugs off the rest of their findings, more invested in whoever this redfield person was. “then i remembered when you showed me that note, the one in the compass. then i found this, figured you would know more than i do.”

veronica gently traced the carved metal, it was definitely their fathers scrawl, she’d memorised it from the note she read over and over and over.

it couldn’t be a coincidence, her fathers note asking her to meet, the matching compasses. now this?

“if i’m going to help you, i need to know..” she trailed off, biting at the edges of her nails as she wondered how to phrase her next question “does this have anything to do with dad dying?”

“he’s not dead.” john b’s voice is louder, stern. then his face softens and he tears his gaze away from the compass and to the floor “sorry, just, i know he’s out there. and this? this is proof.”

“john b, i get it.” the younger routledge speaks slowly, trying not to tread on any toes “you’re not the only one who wants him to be alive, that needs to see him. but i don’t see how this—”

“dad found the royal merchant. four hundred million dollars in gold, and he found it. he’s trying to tell us where to find it.”

veronica sighs, fingers rubbing at her tired eyes as she once again tried to think of any connection to any redfield. when it came to family, she only knew the bare minimum, her fathers name and her mothers maiden name.

what she did know, however, was the royal merchant. as a child her father sent her maps and books on birthdays and christmases without fail, until one day they stopped.

“you’ve got books and stuff, right?” she finally asked, not wanting to get either her or john b’s hopes up. a nagging feeling was telling her their dad was alive, but she knew he wouldn’t just up and abandon his son.

the walls of her fathers study feel like they’re closing in on her, john b let her inside and left her to it. veronicas hand ghosts over the framed maps and dusty books. blueprints of ships with her fathers messy scrawl written randomly around the paper.

there’s pictures of john b littered all over the office, all different life stages, a few feature jj and veronica can’t help but smile at the photo of two little boys holding a fish between them.

on the desk there’s a picture frame, immediately veronica recognises her mother, years younger and a gentle hand placed on her tummy. in the same frame, there’s an ultrasound that veronica almost bypassed as john b, but when she looked at the date it was a long time after he was born.

it was her ultrasound.

it was her in her moms tummy, framed and proudly placed right on her fathers desk.

everything comes back at once. finding the note, and in turn the years worth of letters her mother had hidden from her. the dateline special with john b pleading for information about his father, their father. the fight with her mother, packing a bag in the middle of the night and making her way to the address stored safely inside her compass.

the tears don’t register until they hit the glass of the frame, the last few weeks of pent up anger, sadness and hurt bubbling over from the flame that single photo sparked.

her dad loved her.

for years she’d heard about her absent father, then the absent father that passed when she was a baby. the father who didn’t want the responsibility of a child and ran away once he found out.

but the letters, the compass, this picture? john routledge loved the daughter he was forbidden from seeing, from the second he knew about her he loved her.

and now he was dead.

a sudden wave of anger rushes from her head to her toes, glass shattering when she throws the dusty old frame against the wall with a scream. papers fly and maps fall from the walls as she turns her fathers office into her own personal rage room.

the racket coming from the small room shakes the chateau, so it’s no surprise when the pouges come crashing through the door.

the pouges eyes briefly flash with fear when their eyes land on the destruction caused by the newest arrival, but it’s quickly replaced by a familiar sadness when veronica crumples to the ground, screaming as loud as her lungs would allow for them to get out.

they don’t know what’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter. veronica was now considered a friend, and they gathered that’s what she needed right about now.

jj is the first to enter, drawing closer slowly as if he were being cautious “it’s okay, ronnie.” he mutters softly, dodging shattered glass as he knelt beside her “we’re here, we got you.”

kiara, john b and pope are close behind, wrapping veronica in what could only be described as a group hug until her tears subsided.

taglist!

@ren-ni @marleymarleymarleymarley @miidollaasignnn @rainingcecilias @tanyaherondale @xspideyhollandx @sluterainterlude @loverofmarsss @xoxo-ada @gigistalked @genderlessmenance

[sage-green-matcha]

MAROON - ETHAN LANDRY PT. 1 🍷🥀🔪

“The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, and how the blood rushed into my cheeks so, scarlet it was” - Taylor Swift

Content includes: mentions of murder, alcohol, pretty much it for this chapter!

Pt. 2 of Maroon | Pt. 3 of Maroon | PT. 4 of Maroon |

(A/n: This is the first chapter of a series! It’s gonna be ab 5-7 parts? I’m not sure yet. Hope you enjoy! )

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Your whole life you'd felt like an outcast, no friends, a broken family. You'd move around your entire childhood, you never had one place that you called home. You knew you couldn't get too comfortable anywhere you were.

That was until you moved to Woodsboro. You were there for your last two years of high school. Becoming friends with a group of "popular kids" but what you didn't know was that at the cost of having friends was death.

"Y/n, you okay?" Tara waved her hand in your face. "I- yea I'm fine" Your lips were agape, picturing the sight of the dead bodies you had seen in the past. You took it harder than everyone else. Sam kept trying to get you to go to therapy but you refused. You didn't think anything was wrong with you. But the situation changed how you looked at everyone and everything.

You couldn't trust anyone, nowhere was safe. You felt like there were eyes on you at all times. And you never dared to pick up any calls from unknown numbers. "I was asking what we should get for dinner? Everyone's coming over in a bit" "Oh uh, I'm fine with anything"

It was just a normal night to everyone else, but to you, the moon was the same as it was on that night. It was full, and it messed with your head. "Y/n...it might be last minute but do you wanna go to a party? It's Halloween themed and I know you've been wanting to wear your costume" She smiled at you.

She knew you would say yes, everyone loved when you were drunk. You were the same person from before the murders, the same funny, sweet, Y/n that gave no fucks. You let loose, you'd dance with anyone who asked and took whatever drink was handed to you.

"Yea, I'll get ready" "Nice" she squealed, leaving you alone. You kept your door open, finding your pink butterfly wing teeshirt, pairing it with a green mini skirt. It was simple enough but still cute, tying the shirt in the front to make the "slutty" aspect of Halloween come into play. You had a little flower crown, carefully placed butterflies all over it, a green bow in the back.

You did your makeup with care, adding glitter and gems to the sides of your eyes. "Hi Y/n...we're leaving soon" you responded to the unfamiliar voice, looking up quickly "Oh, hey Ethan...right?" He nodded. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he looked silly. He was wearing a cardboard hat, grey tape around the edges to give it a "cleaned up" look.

"Yea...Ethan Landry" "And what are you supposed to be, Ethan?" He was really cute, he had a shy look in his eye, his cheeks covered in pretty roses blush color. "I'm a Knight" "Your armor isn't really shiny" he looked confused and kinda offended at the same time.

"I- I'm just kidding, sorry. I'll be out soon" You smiled up at him. He had pictured your smile in his mind and it was so much better than he had imagined. You were always quiet and serious in Econ class, but you looked so good with a smile on your face.

Luckily, Ethan would be getting to see you smile all night, the first one when you took your first shot of the night. "To the Fab 5, and! To Ethan, my roommate" "Chad ew, don't call us that" Tara cringed. "Yea! And Sams not here so it's not the full 5" you laughed. "Okay, okay whatever. Cheers guys" You took the small glass to your lips, burning liquid smoothly going down your throat, tossing away old memories and letting yourself go.

"Let's dance!" You dragged Tara to the dance floor also known as the living room, the smell of smoke filling your nose. "Does Sam know you're here?" "No!" She laughed and you shook your head. "You know she's gonna track you down, right?" "Nah, she won't find me"

You stumbled back to the kitchen, Ethan scrolling on his phone silently. "Hey, E...you drink?" You held up a bottle tauntingly and he shook his head. "Uh, no" "yea, I saw you spit out that shot" you smiled, turning back to the table of alcohol, pouring two shots of vodka. "Here" you handed him one, his shaky voice thanking you.

You liked Ethan, sure you'd only known him for a couple hours but he reminded you of yourself. Getting dragged into new friend groups where they don't quiet except you, feeling left out of jokes since he hadn't been here long. "How long have you been in New York?" You strike up a conversation, Anika stealing you back after the long chat. "Got eyes for Landry, huh?" "He's cute" you shrugged with a smile, taking a drink from the red solo cup in your hand. "Chads gonna freak"

Her eyes widened and so did her smile. It finally felt like you were trusting someone, opening up, and starting a conversation. You knew the next time you'd seen him he'd be confused by the lack of energy you'd have. In reality, the alcohol was what was giving you that boost.

You sat down next to the two girls, Mindy explaining her logic behind being at this party and the small chance of almost being killed again. "What about you Y/n? Aren't you a bit paranoid?" "Yeah, I guess. But I feel safe around you guys" you smirked. "Oh also Y/n, I don't Trust Ethan at all. He looks too innocent" "Isn't that the best part?" You laughed, Mindy with a disgusted look on her face.

"I'm gonna go stand in line for the bathroom" You blew kisses at them as you walked away, walking around to find the bathroom. You felt yourself lose balance as you walked, someone catching you as you felt liquid splash on your shirt. "Ah man, my shirt" You held onto the randos chest, trying to stay balanced. "Shit, Y/n...you okay?" You looked up with drunk eyes, Ethan looking down at you with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But my shirt...not so much" You frowned, blush rushing into your cheeks as you looked at him. You untied your Tee, the Maroon color splashed all over your top, making it look like someone had stabbed you. "Is that wine?" He shrugged. "I'm not sure, this girl just gave it to me" he smiled, helping you hold yourself up against the wall.

"Thanks for catching me, I'm not completely drunk, these heels are just uncomfortable to walk in" You slipped off the gold shoes, Ethan standing next to you uncomfortably. "Uhm, let's get you a new drink, yea?" "Oh, no no it's okay. I wasn't gonna drink it...uhm it's fine" he stumbled over his words quite a lot. You couldn't tell if he was just nervous or if this is just how he was all the time.

"Ethan! My man!" Chads hand slapped over the poor boy's shoulder. "Whoah...Y/n, you look like you just got attacked...again" "Very funny Chad" you glared at him. "Hey uh, not to interrupt this throuple but your services are needed" Anika turned the corner as Chad sighed. "I'm needed, I'll be back" "Throuple huh...I think I'd like to just have fun with you, E" You held back a laugh, walking away with a smile and an awkward wink.

Ethan was left a flustered and confused mess, following to find Chad. As for you, you'd finally find the bathroom. Looking at your wine-splashed shirt. It was a familiar view. But instead of blood, it was an innocent drink. You lifted your shirt, your fingers tracing over the two, deep knife scars.

You were lucky to only get two lousy scars, compared to others...you told yourself you didn't have room to complain. After all, you were alive, you made it through the night and you took it to your advantage.

You snapped out of your trance as you heard a familiar voice. Sam, oh shit. "Excuse me" You struggled to push through the crowded hall, bumping into Ethan once you got to the scene. You moving to stand by his side. "Oh shit" you cringed as Sam took her taser to the man's crotch.

"Sam? Are you fucking kidding me? You're stalking me now?" You And Ethan watched in confusion, the dude now on the floor. "Holy shit! It's that psycho girl!" The room filled with laughter, grabbing Ethan's hand as everyone chased Tara.

"Is this like a regular thing in this friend group?" The group walked in unison, you And Ethan behind everyone else. "Yea," you sighed, feet aching with your shoes in your hand. "I like your flower thingy...by the way" "Thanks, made it myself" you took it off your head, handing it to him before stealing the cardboard hat from off his. "Trade me?" "Oh uh...yea" he placed the crown on his head awkwardly, trying to fix his hair as you slipped his hat over your head.

"Looks cute on you" The pink flowers matched with his soft personality, and his flushed cheeks. You on the other hand looked very strange, getting looks from the people that were once staring at Sam and Tara.

"Tara..will you stop?" Sam struggled to catch up with her sister, Tara not giving a fuck. "I cannot believe you did that, you embarrassed me!" "That gut was a dick! He was gonna take advantage of you" "So?!" You rubbed underneath your eyes, knowing that they were about to get into an argument yet again.

It was always like this, they argue just to never make up and argue again. It's a continuous cycle that has never ended. "So?" Sam repeated in shock. "If I wanna hook up with an ass hole that's my decision?! It's my decision" "Okay.." Sam scoffed.

"It's not about you!... You..you were out of my life for 5 years and then you can't leave me alone for 5 minutes" Sams's only and most used "comeback" was that Tara wasn't going to the councilor, That she wasn't dealing with what happened to her. You wondered if she thought the same thing about you, you were worse than Tara with the subject, you had completely blocked out any idea of it with anyone. Sure everyone knew what happened in the back of their head, but it was for the best if no one mentioned it.

"Hey...guys come on" Tara ignored Chad, trying to get them to stop. Tara rambled, even you thought her words were a bit harsh. "You just follow me here and you won't let me out of your sight" "Just...trying to look out for you" You could tell Sam felt defeated, rethinking her actions. "I know...I know you are. But you can't do it for the rest of my life, you have to let me go"

Next thing you knew the smell of cherry coke filled your nose, a drink splashed all over Sam by a random girl. The two were already at it, Sam trying to aggressively go after her, Chad pulling her back. "The fuck is wrong with you?" "You know what you did!" "I didn't fucking do anything!"

You waved at Ethan to follow you, chasing behind Mindy and the rest of the group. "I'm so fucking tired of this!" Tara's eyes watered in frustration, Chad rubbed her back Anika and Mindy holding hands as they walked. You only now realized how alone you were. Sure you'd have some flirty moments with Mindy or Anika but they were purely platonic, you'd never had an actual partner.

"Y/n, I heard what you said to Ethan, not that drunk huh?" She laughed. "He knows I'm kidding...or not. Right E?" "What?" He caught up and you smiled to the ground. "You talked to my bro? Damn, I guess you two would make a good pair" Chad laughed. "No, I don't trust him. He's weird, he always stutters when he talks. He's definitely hiding something" Mindy scoffed.

"I'm right here..." "No, he's just like that with Girls, Man has never experienced female contact" Ethan rolled his eyes, sighing. Mindy also rolled her eyes, she was always stubborn, especially when she was convinced someone was dangerous. "Well I'm gay, so I don't know why he's scared of me" "Maybe cause you're really intimidating, Mindy" Tara turned back, a broken smile back on her face.

"You are...kinda really rude too" "Am not, your face is just annoying to look at" your eyes widened. "Okay you two, cut it out" You all finally got to the apartment, running into your room to take off the wet, uncomfortable shirt. You placed Ethan's hat on your bed, finding a long sleeve and pj pants to switch into.

"Hey, here's your thingy back" he knocked on the door, handing it to you. "Oh, thanks" you grabbed his hat off the bed, giving it back. "I- I think I'm just gonna take it all off, restricting" you agreed. "Yea...plus the party's already over" "I...I'm really sorry about your shirt...by the way" "It's fine, ill just order another one"

"Y/n, hey I think you're gonna wanna see this" Chad called from the living room, you And Ethan rushing to his voice. He called out to Sam who was downstairs, the two of you meeting in the living room in shock. "Cute boy...nice" Quinn smiled and you smirked.

You stared at the Tv, "Also found at the scene were various Ghost Face costumes..." you heart dropped to your ass, you could feel tears start to form in your eyes. "I'm not doing this shit again" you rushed to your room, Sam chasing behind you. "Y/n...Y/n come on we can leave, I'll get tara" "Guys! Wait no! Hold on! No wait, let's talk about this for a second" the two of you had already made your way to the kitchen, knifes in hand.

"This might not have anything to do with us" "Are you serious?" Sam asked. Great, another argument. But this time you sided with Sam. This definitely had something to do with all of you. "It's Halloween! Everybody's wearing masks" "Tara! Tara, this isn't a coincidence!" Your eyes were wide, looking at her trying to find where she found the audacity to say that.

"Tara...we knew him" you spoke up. "He was in one of our classes! We Barley knew him" She scoffed. "Chad, Mindy back us up here" your eyes creased, heart pumping as if you'd just run a marathon. "I mean it is a little bit..." "close to home..." Mindy finished his sentence. "Quinn! Your dad's a cop right? Can you call him and see what's going on? Before you make the dumb ass decision to abandon my college education, and flee the fucking state?" Everyone looked up at Quinn, her Phone to her ear as she called.

You froze as you felt your phone ring in your pocket. Everyone's eyes on you. You slowly took it out, looking at the contact. "Who is it?" You let out a small sigh of relief. "It's just Gale, probably excited about the new book opportunity" you held your face in your palms. "Why'd everyone just freak out when her phone rang?" "You gotta keep up My Dude" you felt your heart beat faster, holding back tears.

"Sam, my dad wants to talk to you" you rushed to your room, closing the door behind you. You fell against it, tears spilling out. You thought you'd finally escaped it, but now your progress was ruined, you were back at square one. It was only bound to get worse, this was just the beginning.

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Comfort person

Requested?: yes

Synopsis: y/n is your average girl, just living her best life- one night she goes to a club just expecting to have fun and chill but that all gets twisted when a group of guys hound her and try to take her home with them, but one man who’s kept his eyes on her for the entire night won’t let that happen.

Trigger warnings: talk about drugs/ alcohol, douche-y guys, attempt of spiking a drink. If any of this makes you uncomfortable please read at your own discretion.

Harry x fem! Reader + famous! Harry

Trope: strangers to lovers

“Oh yeah you’re definitely dressed like that for a reason… wanna hook up,” the group of men around you were practically saying the same thing over and over again, your heart was beating out of your chest. You were full of anxiety. These men had been hounding you for a good 10 minutes and no one had said a thing, two blondes were sat either side of you and three guys were inches away from touching your back, keeping you blocked in practically. You felt sick to your stomach. “You’re actually so pretty…” one of them said with a little grin, “I’m Daniel and you are?” He held his hand out for you distracting you completely from your surroundings and you gulp harshly of course his name is Daniel you then slowly reach your hand out shaking his hand “nice to meet you…” you murmur unsure, “I’m y/n. Just here to chill. I don’t want to hook up” you state simply, a look of disappointment forming on Daniel’s face “shame” he spoke, and unbeknownst to you the other blonde on your other side had poured a white powder into your drink, his mates egging him on further but you didn’t really focus on that too focused on how uncomfortable they were making you feel.

However you also didn’t notice the curly haired man, sat down on a table just behind you, his green eyes full of concern as he had watched the whole entire thing. He was going to help a long time ago but he wasn’t entirely sure whether you were actually in trouble or whether they were your friends, but upon seeing the white substance float into your drink, and he knew in an instant that friends most definitely wouldn’t drug each other… Harry was quick to stand up as he moved to where you were sat his tattoos glimmering in the light as he got closer and closer to the bar before he tapped one of the brown haired guys on the shoulder making him move before Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist as he gently pulled you up from your sitting position “sorry to disappoint, I’ve got to whisk this one away… she’s not feeling too well. An early night is in order for her.” He chuckled out as you looked up at your saviour his jawline sharp, eyes a beautiful green colour and face the exact beauty of an Angel. You recognised him well- he was Harry styles but right now wasn’t the time to fangirl about that…

“Aren’t you from that boyband? One direction.” One of them laughed out, “oh yeah you’re so right! The band that’s so gay. Try to convince everyone they’re straight but really they’re all fucking,” the man chastised clearly trying to get on Harry’s nerves “ha ha very funny. You all look like you give each other blowjobs in the bathroom… don’t you? Got no woman to help you out so you do what bros do, yeah? Is that why you drugged her drink? Yeah I saw that.” He said immediately shutting the rowdy group up as you looked up to him shocked… they had drugged your drink? Shit your heart sank into your stomach. That knowledge made you feel sick and vulnerable. Harry then picked up the glass that had been drugged before he threw the red liquid into Daniel’s face watching as he clutched his eyes fear seemingly being knocked into all of them at the same time, once a man stands up for a woman they all become weak. Huh. Funny. “Disgusting, all of you. Buck up your fucking ideas otherwise I will press charges… if I really wanted to I could get the cops to arrest your dumb asses right now but I like to think you’ll all change.” He said knowing they wouldn’t change, Harry didn’t like using his fame to his advantage but knowing these men were going to hurt you an innocent vulnerable woman made him feel sick. “C’mon” he soon murmured looking down at you as he lead you out of the club, hand remaining on the small of your back as he guided you outside to safety. Harry would’ve done so much more if it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to comfort you, his breathing slightly unsteady with anger. What he had done wasn’t enough but was enough at the same time, his actions were completely justified. He found it incredibly disturbing and humiliating how no one else stepped in to help you… knowing this most likely happened to other people and people just sat and watched it. Allowing it to happen.

Soon you both stopped walking Harry turning to look at you “have you got a way home?” He asked studying you carefully, almost analysing you “I can call a taxi… don’t worry.” You assured immediately pulling your phone out of your pocket but he shook his head “no… I want to make sure you get home safely.” He said and you blinked confused… why did the Harry styles want to make sure you got home safely? So it was true? He was the kindest man to exist… “you don’t have to.” You said softly but he shook his head “I want to. I’m Harry by the way.” He held his hand out for you to shake, the rings that adorned his fingers were the first thing you noticed and you gently took his hand into your own giving his hand a light shake “pleasure to meet you Harry… my names y/n.” You said softly keeping eye contact with him as he didn’t let go of your hand giving a tight but gentle squeeze as he smiled “likewise, y/n.” He said calmly and kindly his eyes scanning over your features for a few moments “are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they? Here… let me take a look at you.” He murmured letting go of your hand just so he could rest his hands upon your shoulders, his green gentle eyes full of worry as he seemingly looked you over for any wounds or such: the way he said it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. A man you barely knew- personally- offered more care and kindness than any man you had known for years. “I’m okay I promise.” Your words were soft and gentle as he silently looked at you making sure you were okay and unharmed and once he had realised that you were unhurt and just fine a small tight lipped smile tugged at his lips as he nodded “just a bit shaken up. If they tried to touch me I would’ve you know… put up a fight.” You said honestly and Harry nodded starting to walk with you to his car and he opened the door for you, like the gentleman he was and once you got in you buckled your seatbelt before letting out a soft sigh… that was most definitely the last time you ever went to a club alone.

You soon told Harry you address and he began driving his large hands resting on the steering wheel, you felt nervous not because of who he was of course not but rather what had just happened and he seemingly noticed that his free hand immediately dropping just next to the gear stick his palm faces upwards his fingers spread as if welcoming you to hold his hand and you quickly did just that taking a hold of his hand in yours intertwining your fingers with his. You held his hand in your lap your free hand gently tracing over his tattoos. No words needed to be spoken to understand what you were feeling and how the simplicity of him allowing you to hold his hand comforted you enough to help sooth your nerves. As he slowed down at a red traffic light his head turned to look to you his eyes scanning over your worried expression his hand gently squeezing yours “you’re okay.” He said softly and you turned to look at him nodding your head as you smiled gently “I know… thank you… I just can’t help to think what would’ve happened if you didn’t step in.” You murmured softly and he stroked his thumb against your skin, not even realising the traffic light had turned to green “I’m sure your gut instinct would’ve gotten you out quick enough… I like to think someone else would’ve stepped in but… as you said… I’m sure you would’ve put up a good fight and scared them all off.” He said with a soft chuckle, the traffic light flicking back to red but he didn’t seem to notice or rather care all he cared about was you in this very moment. “Yeah… what I’ve learnt is if you act just as crazy as them they become terrified… one guy barked at me so I barked at him and ran after him, he ran so fast he ran into a pole.” You said the funny story making Harry throw his head back as he laughed a curl of his hair gently resting against his forehead another curl doing the exact same thing creating a little heart shape on his forehead “you barked at him? That’s top notch… hilarious. Good for you” he said grinning at you as he gave your hand a squeeze before he finally began to drive again but he didn’t dare let go of your hand keeping your hand in his… he quite liked holding your hand. It was nice.

~

As he pulled up outside of your apartment you let out a soft sigh “you live alone?” He asked softly and you nodded your head, you weren’t looking forward to stepping into the empty apartment by yourself… you were slightly paranoid. Of course it would pass but still it was unnerving and Harry seemed to sense that “here I’ll walk you in” he said and you shot a grateful look his way as you got out of the car waiting for him and once he was by your side he rested his hand on the small of your back as he began walking with you towards your front door, his fingertips lightly rubbing against your back in a comforting manner and once the door was open you held your breath “I’ll go first” he comforted without even questioning or asking you why you were so worried or even beginning to humiliate you like most men would… most men wouldn’t understand it and would tell you to just move on with your life but you couldn’t… even if they weren’t there you were still scared. You followed after him flicking on the lights and once in the living room you sat down your heart racing, Harry without even saying anything doing a quick sweep around the house- checking in wardrobes, under your bed, everywhere… just to sooth your anxieties. He was truly boyfriend material.

You were quick to put on some tv, some happy tv and once Harry returned he stood just in front of you, his eyes searching yours silently “is it okay if I stay? Even if it’s just till you fall asleep?” He asked not wanting to leave you alone not for tonight at least, you were clearly scared and traumatised. “Yes of course” you quickly obliged nodding your head and a small smile formed on his face before he sat just beside you the both of you watching the tv silently and soon enough his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you into him your head lightly resting on his shoulder and he just held you wanting to make sure you knew you were safe. No words were said once again, it was simply silence knowing you were safe with him and soon your fingers began creeping towards his, your index finger hooking with his thumb, his fingers doing the same as he held your hand lightly your head slowly lifting to look him in the eyes the realisation in both of your eyes proving both of your thoughts and he without even saying anything cupped your cheek with his free hand pulling you in close to him as he kissed you gently but deeply, his other hand keeping a hold of yours before you pulled yourself onto his lap wanting to be close to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the both of you kissing… making out for a good long while the kiss passionate but loving. Not too fast but not too slow either. Just right. The way he placed his hands… his hand placement… gods it drove the butterflies in your tummy wild and soon Harry pulled away, just enough so his forehead could rest against yours “I’m sorry if I got into that too fast but… gods… couldn’t help myself.” He murmured but you shook your head smiling “I loved it” you whispered before pulling him close again as you kissed him once more deeply but gently, he made you feel safe and secure… you didn’t want to leave his side… maybe this journey of strangers to lovers wouldn’t end up so bad… maybe just maybe you had found your comfort person.

[borntoocry]

ellie x fem!reader

reader is Tommy and maria's adopted daughter Who's never been outside of jackson and also has a BIG crush on ellie

Tommy decides One day to invite his Brother ,Joel , over for a family dinner where while the olders are talking , reader and ellie are in reader's room where She tells the auburn haired girl her Wish (going to a real Mall)

funny thing ellie found One and decides It would be a perfect date to ask reader out ,they sneak out and ellie brings reader to this Mall where they have a almost-death experience since our smartass ellie forgot to clear out of infected some shops , they make It out alive but reader ends up with a medium/big wound (NOT A ZOMBIE BITE PLEASE) and they're like " well good luck to us explaining that to Maria"

They go home to find very angry and upset Brothers +Maria

(if you like It i also have an idea for a Little part 2 AND ALSO SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH🤍)

THIS WAS SO GOOD??? HELLO??? OFC! the first part will be the dinner with a bit of an argument, and the second part will be the mall. we'll see how long we can drag this on for. thank you for this anon!

this is a fem!oc x Ellie williams fic. she's a poc. sorry if this diverges from what you wanted, I just wanted to write something in first pov instead of YN. (is that okay??)

warnings: conversation about death. drinking. some kissing. that's about it.

PART II

I fucking hate the apocalypse. Then again, who enjoys it? Besides psychos testing out their survival skills. 

The apocalypse means losing people: people you’ve known since birth, people you’ve known since your mind could render memories, and people who you never got to know due to your young mind. Like my mom. Young and full of hope, which is something everyone says when they talk about the dead mom they don’t remember. But from what I hear, that’s what she was like. 

Her name was Poppy, which means that I might’ve had weird grandparents. And because my name is Clementine, that means I might’ve had a weird mom. From the pictures tacked onto my wall, it seems so: she had blue hair as a teenager, she dyed it every so often from shades of pink to purple and orange. She had piercings all over her ears and a couple on her face, and she had tattoos that littered her soft tan skin. 

I have… nothing. I’m bare. All that I have is curly hair and tan skin from my mom, and an odd shade of hazel eyes from my dad. I don’t match myself whatsoever. But I guess that’s why I’m like my mom–I don’t make sense. 

But the one person who has made an effort to make me make sense is Ellie–Joel’s ‘daughter,’ who isn’t truly his daughter because they are not related whatsoever. She’s just been around him since she was 14. I make an effort to make that known, because people around town consider me Tommy and Maria’s daughter, which then implies that I’m Joel’s niece. Which I am not. Because if I was, that would make the entire situation of me liking Ellie sort of… incest-y. 

But me and Tommy and Maria are not blood related, and me and Ellie and Joel and whatever this family is, are not related either. I’ve just been taken in by Tommy and Maria since I was three years old.They care for me like their own. And for that, I’m grateful. 

Tommy enjoys inviting Joel and Ellie to dinner at least once a week; because we’re a group of  put together people that have been through more shit than we probably should’ve. And every week, they come over. Sometimes with food, sometimes with alcohol. Maria allows me to drink because she says I’m mentally old enough. That and from what Tommy says, laws don’t really exist anymore, so they can’t really go to jail for letting me drink underage.

This week, Maria has made lasagna and her famous salad, which is just a mixture of pickled vegetables tossed in oil and goat cheese with lettuce. It really is good, but I won’t lie and say I haven’t gotten a bit tired of it. I eat it anyway, because Maria is a marvelous cook and I’d rather stab my eye than ask her to make something different. 

I set up the table and lay out five wine glasses. I usually sit next to Ellie while the old adults sit next to each other around the end of the table. I somehow still get nervous sitting next to her even after four years of knowing one another. It starts off with a rumbling in my stomach, and then a batch of butterflies find their way into my chest and absorb all of the liquids spewing into my body. I can’t really stop it, but at least they don’t attack my vocal chords. 

“You done?” Tommy asks as he walks into the room with two bottles of wine. This week, Ellie is making her famous garlic rolls, which pair amazingly with Maria’s lasagna. Because she never makes them, I eat one too many and end up tipsy and bloated. 

I nod and grab the bottles from his hands. I set them in the center alongside the other bottle of wine and one singular bottle of whiskey. This family drinks too much, but no one seems to care. It’s a Friday, after all. 

“How does it look?” I ask, waving a hand over the table. 

Tommy smiles, which force his wrinkles to dance about his face. “It looks wonderful like always, sweetheart.” He comes around and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I pat his hand and lean my head against his. 

I love Tommy–he’s truly my father even though I’ll never call him dad. I guess he knows that, but he’s fine with it. I call him ‘My Tommy’ to everyone I know, which is somehow more special than the title ‘dad.’ 

“Awe, look at you guys,” Maria says as she enters the dining room. She places her lasagna and salad in the center of the table and can’t stop her smile from spreading along her entire face at the sight of us. “My Tommy and my Clem. You are adorable.” 

I kiss Tommy’s cheek and pull away, smiling back at Maria who has now run around the table to kiss Tommy. I don’t watch as she kisses him, but I hear the peck. 

 I take one last look at the table, trying to see if there’s anything I need to perfect. But as nothing comes to mind, there’s a knock at the door. I turn to look at Tommy and Maria, but quickly leap towards the door when I find them kissing. 

I already know who it is, so I don’t check the peephole. I unlock the door and twist the handle, opening it up to see Joel and Ellie on the other side. Joel holds a bottle of whiskey and Ellie holds a dish of rolls. 

I smile and take the whiskey from Joel. “I don’t think we need anymore of this, but thank you.” 

They step inside and I shut the door behind them. “There’s no such thing as too much whiskey.” 

“Or wine,” Ellie states, which draws me over to her. 

I look at her and smile. “Well wine, no. Whiskey, maybe.” 

Her hair that’s tossed into a low bun shakes along with her head. Some tendrils of hair fly into her face and I fight against my fluttering stomach not to push them out of my face. To fight it, I look away and take the whiskey to the dining table. 

Tommy watches me place the whiskey next to the plenty of other bottles and chuckles. “Thank you brother but that might be too much.” 

“That’s what I said,” I tell him. “Do you want me to take it to the kitchen instead?” 

Tommy shakes his head. “Leave it. It’s a Friday and I’m sure we’ve all had a rough week.” 

I nod even though I don’t do much around Jackson. I’m not really allowed to go out on patrol like Ellie. My mom died that way. Maybe not riding around safely like Ellie, but she died out on patrol. And ever since I was old enough to take on tasks, I was labored with tending to the farm animals. 

I have never gone outside of the walls of Jackson. I’ve begged Tommy and Maria, but they always say no. We’ve even gotten into fights about it, which have led me to nights in Ellie’s room, where she tells me stories of what she’s seen out there. And some of those stories have included a mall. 

Because of her stories, I have dreamed about sneaking away and finding that said mall. Even though I know it won’t happen, I dream about it–because how harmful can a dream be? 

“Alright, has everyone washed their hands?” Maria asks. 

Tommy and Joel nod but Ellie and I look over at one another, shaking heads. I head into the kitchen with her behind me and the butterflies come out in full effect, knocking into the walls of my stomach. 

I eject soap into my hands and turn on the sink, quickly shoving my hands underneath the slow stream to get some bubbles forming. As I knead the soap into my hands, Ellie clears her throat. I look over at her with a smile and she begins a conversation. 

“How are you doing?” she asks. 

I nod. “Good. So far, I’m doing good.” 

“Has that guy Jacob been bothering you?” she asks, referring to this one guy around our age that can’t seem to stop pestering every girl in Jackson. He used to catcall me everyday during the summer. I wore shorts and thin shirts so I wouldn’t overheat, and he’d come over whistling at me, hoping I’d feed into his delusions. 

I never told him I wasn’t into his type, so he kept coming onto me. Until a couple weeks ago when I punched him so hard that he fell back and got a concussion. I guess that gave him the memo. 

I wash the suds out of my hands as I shake my head. “He hasn’t talked to me since you know what.” 

She laughs and takes my spot by the sink. “That was badass, by the way,” she tells me as the soap suds up in her hands. 

My cheeks become hot and I laugh. “Thanks,” I say, “you’ve told me that quite a couple times.” 

Her cheeks heat up and swell with blood, but I try not to think of it. Instead, I focus on her hands and the way the soap begins vanishing from her fingers. The new tattoos that tread down her hands come into full effect and I have to turn away. 

“I say it ‘cause it’s true,” she tells me as she dries her hands on her jeans. 

I shrug. “It’s no biggie.” 

“What’s no biggie?” Joel asks as he steps into the kitchen. 

“Me punching Jacob,” I tell him. 

He laughs and grabs a couple more napkins from the counter. “That was bad ass, by way.” 

Ellie and I turn to one another and laugh. Joel, as confused as he is, turns away and re-enters the dining room, where we follow him into and sit down for dinner. 

We’re three bottles of wine into dinner and I’ve had about two very full glasses. Even though I’ve been allowed to drink around Tommy and Maria since I turned 17, I haven’t gained a high enough tolerance. So now I drunkenly sit in my seat with one of Ellie’s garlic rolls in my hand. 

Tommy and Joel are laughing at something Maria said, and Ellie is staring me down. 

“You don’t think you’ve had enough to drink?” she asks as she glances at my wine glass. 

I shrug. “You want some?” 

She shrugs. 

“Have it,” I tell her. 

She chugs the rest and places the glass next to her, as if to say, ‘Now you can’t get any more.’ I’m fine with that, so I chow down on the garlic roll and listen to the adults. 

This runs for about ten minutes before the conversation is redirected towards the teenagers. “So,” Maria says, “how are you girls?” 

I glance at Ellie and I catch her looking back at me. Her red cheeks make a re-appearance and I mistake it for the wine and whiskey. Ellie looks back at Maria and smiles. “We’re good. Well–I’m good. I’ve been doing fine on patrols and all that.” She turns to me again and with her red cheeks and perfectly molded lips, asks, “And you, Clem?” 

I shake out of my drunken thoughts and crookedly smile. “It’s been fine on the farm.” 

Joel glances between me and Ellie and chuckles. “You hate it at the farm, don’t you?” 

I shrug. I pick at the leftover pieces of dead lettuce on my plate and try to find words that don’t come off as bitchy. But I fail. The words tumble out of my mouth before I can slap a hand over my lips. “Nothing new ever happens and I can’t do anything else, so yeah, I kinda do hate it.” 

Maria sighs and I look up at her. “You know you can’t go on patrol, Clem.” 

“Well I can’t do anything else here either.” 

“Clementine, don’t start your arguing,” Tommy warns. 

I scoff. “I’m not arguing, I’m just trying to understand why you won’t let me go on patrol.” 

“Because–” Maria starts. 

“Because what? Ellie goes on patrol!” 

“That’s different,” Joel mutters. 

I avert my gaze towards him and ask, “How? How is it different?” 

“Your mom died while out on patrol,” he continues. 

“From what I know, combat skills aren’t hereditary. Y’all can teach me! Ellie can teach me.” 

Ellie stays silent. I suddenly  feel bad for jamming her into our conversation. She sits next to me and places her hand on my hand, forcing my trembling fingers to die down. She leans in and tries to whisper something in my ear, but I shove her away and continue with the conversation between me and the adults. 

“Stop trying to fight this, Clementine,” Tommy tells me. 

“But you can teach me! How do you know I’ll die if you don’t teach me how to defend myself?” 

“Your mother knew how to defend herself,” Maria says, but before she can continue, I cut her off. 

“Okay then! So teach me how to defend myself.” 

“But she was stupid and got herself killed. And I’d rather keep you locked in Jackson than have you do the same.” 

“So I’m stupid?” I ask. The color drains out of my face and leaves me as pale as a ghost. I’ve always been mistaken for Tommy and Maria’s daughter due to my skin color, but now that my color has drained from my body, I feel like everything that used to connect me to this couple is gone. “You think that because my mom died stupidly, I’ll do the same?” 

Maria shuts her eyes and pulls herself away from the table. She stands up and gathers her and Tommy’s plates. “We’re not talking about this. Talk to your Tommy and leave me out of it.” 

Tommy glances at me and I look away, pulling myself away from the table and fleeing. I trip over the chair and try kicking it away, but Ellie latches her hand onto my arm and pulls me around the tipping chair. 

She helps me up the stairs as my vision becomes blurred and once we enter my bedroom, I flop onto my bed. She shuts my door and I instantly sob. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Ellie whispers as she plops down next to me and rubs her hands along my spine. “You’re okay, Clem.” 

I shake my head. “Fuck them!” I exclaim. “They’ve kept me locked up in Jackson my entire life and expect me not to want to go out? I’m a fucking human, not a pet!” 

“They just want to keep you safe, Clem.” 

I drunkenly disobey, pushing her off and scooting up to the back of my bed. She crawls towards me and sits in front of my legs. She places her hands on top of my knees and slowly rubs her thumbs along the grooves. 

“Leave me alone,” I whisper. 

“Nothing they said was true,” she tells me. 

I look up at her with a frown. “How do you know that?” 

“You’re the smartest girl I know, Clem.” 

I roll my eyes. 

Ellie slaps my knee and cowers over me. “I mean it. You’re incredibly intelligent with animals. You practically speak to them!” 

“I’m telling you, I’m weird.” 

She shakes her head and places her hands on both of my knees. She spreads them apart and crawls between them. I gulp down the nervousness cinching my throat and try to push myself back against my bed. But I’m already against the wall. 

I’ve wanted this ever since I met Ellie. Sure, it was inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old to be thinking about this very moment where Ellie kisses me, but I couldn’t just knock those thoughts away. They have been imprinted onto my mind ever since, and now it’s happening. 

Or maybe not. We’re drunk. But I so badly want this. 

“What’s so bad about being weird?” she asks me in a seductive tone that makes an awful whining noise come out of my throat. She chuckles and lowers her head even more. “What was that?” 

I shrug. “I’m nervous,” I say. “And we’re drunk.” 

“And what about this is making you nervous?” 

“It looks like you want to kiss me…” I whisper. 

“And what if I do?” 

I raise an eyebrow. 

Ellie places her lips on my forehead and smoothes the wrinkles lining my skin. “You are nothing they say you are. You’re intelligent, you’re beautifully weird and you I know you’d be one badass fighter.” 

I look up at her, our lips mere centimeters apart, and frown. “Then why don’t they see that?” 

Ellie’s fingers move up from the bottom of my neck up to my cheeks. She rubs her thumbs along my lips and whispers, “They do, I promise you they do, Clem. I think maybe they don’t want to risk losing you, even if they can show you how to be a badass warrior.” 

I crack a smile, even though it might be the fakest one I’ve ever put on. She must notice, though, because she leans in as close as she can. “If I kiss you, is there a chance this frown will disappear?” 

I lick my lips and stare up at her dark eyes that seem to seep into my body. “Maybe,” I whisper, and allow her lips to sink into mine. 

Her hands wrap around my cheeks and mine wrap around her hair. She pushes me down into my bed and I slowly lean back, wrapping my legs around her waist. I act needy, because I am. I kiss her like I’ve always dreamed of, with my lips following hers and opening up my mouth when she wants to dart her tongue in. 

I’ve kissed one person before Ellie, but it was to get her off my mind. She was spinning in my head, owning every single crevice of my brain. I used to think it was on purpose–the universe was trying to drive me mad before the walls of Jackson did. But now I think… Well, I don’t know  what the universe was trying to do. What I do know is that all those times I made out with Kennedy was to prepare me for the making out Ellie and I are doing. 

The kissing between Ellie and I is fervent. She’s kissing my lips, sucking my bottom lip, kissing along my neck down to my collarbones. She’s trying to pull a leg over one of mine so she can–what I assume–hump it, but before she does, I pull away. 

“Maybe let’s go back down,” I whisper, out of breath. 

She pulls her head away from my neck and brushes her hair out of her face. “Not yet,” she says. “I have something to tell you.” 

I nod. “Do you like me?” I ask. 

She chuckles. “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say.” 

I frown. “Oh.” 

“I thought that was obvious,” she tells me. “That I like you. I’ve been staring at you ever since I showed up.” 

I drop my head in embarrassment and sheathe my eyes with my hands. “I couldn’t tell. I’m sorry.” 

Ellie lifts my head with both of her hands and sits on her calves in front of me. She kisses the corner of my lips and pulls away. “It’s okay, Clem. Don’t worry about that right now.” 

I nod. “So… then… tell me what you were going to say.” 

She nods and drops her hands onto my shoulders, where she rubs my blades. “You remember that mall I told you about ages ago?” 

My eyes open wide and I smile. “Yes. The one you found when you went on patrol the first few times.” 

She nods. “What if I sneak you out one of these days and take you there? Just us. We can look around and make it memorable for your first time outside of Jackson?” 

I nod. I nod like a child who’s just had a tub of sweets. “Yes!” I exclaim, but quickly run a hand over my mouth. “Sorry… But yes! We should.” 

Ellie nods and kisses me one more time. “How about next Friday? Our dinner will be at 4, and we can sneak out and make it back here by midnight. They won’t even notice we’re gone–they’ll be drunk by eight o’clock.” 

I nod. “Okay. Deal.” 

Ellie kisses the side of my head and pulls away, crawling off my bed. She walks over to my record station and thumbs through my vinyl records. I crawl to the end of my bed and watch as she grabs one and pulls it out of its sleeve. She pulls the needle up and sets the record down. Then she places the needle back down on the record and we wait for the music to begin. 

Ellie turns and extends a hand. “Wanna dance? To get you out of your bad mood?” 

I bite down on my lips to hide my smile and nod. I take her hand and she pulls me up, almost launching me into the air. I hold onto her as she spins me around, and once we’re tired, we plop back onto my bed. 

I turn my head to her and smile because she’s already looking back at me. “I’m excited about this trip,” I whisper in case anyone is standing outside.

“Me too. I’ll make sure to make it extra special.” 

“You promise?” 

She nods. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” 

[red-airhead]

𝔖𝔲𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔢 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱. 𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢: 𝔖𝔥𝔦𝔱 𝔉𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔏𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

Masterlist

word count - 2,006

genre - fluff, romance, angst if you squint

warnings - feminine terms, afab! reader, ot8 x reader (losts of Jeongin, Seungmin, and Minho), alcohol consumption, reader is clingy, mentions of life before apocalypse, reader talks about past love life, reader gets a tad bit upset, lmk if i missed anything.

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You weren’t entirely sure when the others would be back, but they took Han and that usually means they needed luck.

You recently learned that Han was their lucky charm, and if they desperately needed something it would appear if he started talking about it or if he was around. It was such a weird thing to know about but you found it funny.

When they had arrived home, seeing Jisung coming in with a bag full of different types of alcohol was something you thought you’d never see.

“Who’s getting fucked up tonight!!” Jisung would shout, and you snorted at his words.

“Definitely not you, lightweight.” Hyunjin teased, pushing past him to get inside. He was covered in was you believed was zombie blood. 

“Need me to get you a change of clothes?” You asked, getting ready to run upstairs and grab something comfortable for him.

“Please do. I feel gross.. I’m gonna go shower first..” he sighed out, going upstairs and you following in suite.

This was a normal pattern between you and the guys, often getting them a change of clothes while they head to the bathroom to shower, to save time for them. You’ve gotten used to seeing most of them walk around shirtless such as Chan, Minho, and sometimes Jeongin. 

You were so comfortable around the others that it didn’t bother you, and even though it had only been a few weeks since meeting them, you’ve never felt more at home. 

The problem? You were almost fully healed yet they wouldn’t let you go out for supplies yet. Changbin had been teaching you how to safely use any of the weapons they have, and if you didn’t have one on you, Minho taught you how to use your hands against the Zombies, and safely. 

A couple of days ago you also learned that they have records and cds that could be used on nights where you’d all get together and just relax. On those nights you found yourself sandwiched in a cuddle pile between Felix and Hyunjin.

Tonight though, it seemed like you were all going to be getting drunk, and that just made you all the more excited. 

Once Hyunjin got his change of clothes, you walked into the bathroom, set it down on the sink counter and walked out, him yelling out a thank you from behind the shower curtain. 

You went back downstairs, seeing everyone staring at the alcohol on the living room table, all heavily excited to start drinking, but not wanting to start without Hyunjin or you, and it made your heart warm.

“Man I’m so excited, it’s been forever since we’ve had a drink together!” Han exclaimed, legs laid across Minho’s lap, who seemed to be gently rubbing his calves from underneath his sweats. Physical affection was real in this group, and you found it sweet how they could be like this together.

“You don’t have to say that twice.. The last time we were drinking was after a stressful day of a long schedule, and now with that all gone we can sit and drink to our hearts content.” Chan explained, head tilted back with Felix straddling him, snuggled up against his chest with Chans arms wrapped around his waist. Felix was in fact awake, he just missed being close to Chan.

You decided to sit between Seungmin and Jeongin. That ended up with Seungmin’s head in your lap and Jeongin’s head on your shoulder. This type of skinship became normal during these past few weeks, you often finding yourself snuggled up to one or more of the members. It’s been so peaceful lately in the area you all stayed in that most days you spent were on the couch snuggled up together.

Whatever song was playing ended up being something by taylor swift, and you remembered that these guys had figured out how to make a playlist with cds, and you often enjoyed whatever they played so it didn’t even bother you much. Today they must’ve settled for Felix’s because you’d hear a lot of taylor swift if he got the chance to put in his cds. 

Hyunjin had later come down, and dramatically gasped when he saw everyone all snuggled up without him, but what made him happy was that Changbin had his arms open for Hyunjin, which he happily took and got comfortable in the muscular arms.

“Finally, everyone’s here.. I’ll go get the glasses.” Han spoke up, standing up, in which Minho had reluctantly let him go, but knowing he’d be back kept him from stopping him. And just like that Han disappeared into the kitchen.

You didn’t bother moving Jeongin or Seungmin, knowing that one or the other was asleep or too comfortable to move. Your one hand laced and playing with Seungmin’s hair, the other holding Jeongin’s hand, your fingers being played with by him as well. 

“You three certainly look super comfortable.” Minho hummed out, watching a smile grow on your face, nodding gently as Jeongin groaned and shifted. Well now you know that Jeongin’s been asleep.

“Couldn’t agree more. Having these two babies all snuggled up on me makes me feel safe..” You muttered out, glancing down at Seungmin who also seemed to be asleep.

“Especially when they’re asleep too.. Y’know, a little fun fact they’ll probably kick my ass for, but they’re thankful you’re in their life. That you’re in our lives.” Hyunjin spoke up, watching you smile even more as you just felt like pulling them closer.

“That makes me really happy, then.. I’m happy I was able to come into your guys’ lives..” You muttered out, watching Seungmin shift and flutter his eyes open, smiling when he was greeted with the sight of your face.

“Hi sleepyhead.” You said to him, and he just hummed in response, sitting up only to snuggle into your side, your arm going behind him to start rubbing his arm gently. Jeongin would soon shift so he was more curled up with his head using your lap as a pillow. With your free hand you grabbed a blanket and threw it on top of Jeongin. 

Once you knew Seungmin was fast asleep, you started talking again.

“They’re still like kids, y’know? They may be in their 20’s but they still have childish tendencies.. I love that they’re able to try and maintain happiness even if it’s for a little while..” You explained, that same free hand gently pushing Jeongin’s hair back.

“Yeah,, I was worried about them when the apocalypse started.. Jeongin especially..” Chan hummed out, Felix nodding in agreement as he looked over at you.

Soon Han had walked out of the kitchen with the glasses all ready. You didn’t have the heart to wake up Seungmin or Jeongin but with the way that Han had started shouting, you didn’t need to.

“Be quiet, hyung!” Jeongin complained as he sat up, huffing gently while Seungmin groaned and sat up as well.

“Yeah, yeah! Let’s just get to drinking!” Han began handing out the empty glasses, then all of the members went in for different types of alcohol. You settled for Soju, knowing it would get you drunk enough to relax, but not enough for you to forget everything as long as you didn’t drink a bunch of it. 

Han settled back into Minho’s lap once they all got their drinks, everyone now taking a sip. Your face contorted when the bitter taste hit your tongue. Felix’s face also contorted and it made you laugh a little.

You knew that eventually Han would be drunk in a few minutes or so, and you also knew that some wouldn’t drink much, those people being Chan and Changbin. 

You all spent time laughing, talking about things that you did before the apocalypse, listening to music, humming along. You knew that tonight would be memorable. 

“Wait, wait, wait– Let me get this straight.. You guys were idols?” You asked, cheeks dusted pink, obviously tipsy and on the verge of being considered drunk.

“Yeah! We used to perform a whole lot and travel! I wish you could’ve seen it..” Felix replied, a wide smile on his face as he sat across from you. 

Jeongin was still latched to your side, sipping at the bourbon whiskey that he had poured almost an hour ago. Sometimes he’d abandon the alcohol and start pressing soft kisses to your temple, cheek, jawline, and sometimes on your neck. 

You found yourself leaning into the attention while listening to Felix go on and on about their idol life.

“Who knows, maybe you should sing for me one day.” You hummed back, and they all responded with eager agreements.

A couple hours later, you had reached the sappy and ‘numb’ part of your drunken state. You seemed a little too upset for comfort, and while Jeongin was continuously loving you while you sat on Minho’s lap, clinged against him, it still didn’t take the feeling away.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jeongin would ask, hand underneath your shirt and rubbing at your back gently.

“Yeah,, jus reached the sad part of– being drunk..” You muttered out, Minho’s hands now resting at your hips, listening to your slurred words. 

Some of the other members were either sent to bed, or ended up falling asleep on the couch snuggled up to another. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Minho hummed out, and you nodded.

“I miss life.. Before all of this– I miss my friends and I miss being able to not live in fear..” You started off, sniffling a little as you began to tear up.

“I miss my ex,, It was all my fault that he had to–” Jeongin quickly cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t fall down that route.. It wasn’t your fault, Y/N..” Jeongin explained, you lifting your head and nodding, feeling his hand going to wipe any fallen tears.

“Okay..” You managed, leaning against his warm hand. Seungmin soon crawled up on the other side of you, pressing feather-like kisses on your face. You smiled at all the kisses he was giving you. 

You felt so loved by these people, and with the way they would treat you like a princess made you feel like you were on top of the world.

“I know it’s too early to even admit it, but I know that all the others want to tell you, but we love you so much.. Please forget the past and focus on the present and future when you’re with us..” Minho said with a genuine smile, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“I love you guys too.. Thank you..” You responded, sitting up so you could return the favor.

You started with Jeongin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, in which he seemed to respond almost immediately, hand gently cupping your cheek as he kissed back. When you pulled away he moved forward for more but stopped.

You then turned to Minho, and you could already see in his expression that he knew what was about to happen. 

Your hands gently cupped the sides of his neck, pressing another kiss to his lips. Minho’s eyes fluttered shut as his thumbs rubbed up and down on your hips, lips moving in sync. He repeated the same action as Jeongin, only this time he was able to steal a peck.

Turning to Seungmin, he already was ready to kiss you, cupping your cheeks and kissing you. You melted into it almost immediately, hands going on top of his before they started going down to your hips, moving you so you were sitting on his lap. You could hear Minho whine in annoyance.

“Did you know that you all have such soft lips?” You giggled out after pulling away from Seungmin, in which they both smiled and decided to snuggle up with you and Seungmin. Minho had grabbed a big blanket and wrapped around the four of you, snuggling into the warmth.

This was by far one of your most favorite cuddle pile.

[bow-chicka-wow-wow-wow]

What The Fuck Is Wrong With Modern Family Guy?

Family Guy first aired in 1999. For the past 25 years, the show has survived two cancellations, a couple friendly jabs from The Simpsons, a not-so-friendly bashing from South Park, has been the subject of many controversies, had a few banned episodes, was the target of PTC groups, and it’s still going. Nowadays, the only thing the series is good for is the nostalgia for the classic episodes, because let’s face it, the show FUCKING SUCKS NOW!! At what point did the once beloved adult cartoon become an embarrassment to animation? Some would say starting with season 9 when the show made the jump to HD, others would say around season 7, personally I’d say around season 8, right around the time they made Brian and Quagmire mortal enemies. So, what earned this piece of shit show its fall from grace? Time to set the record straight!

1. Character Flanderization - Each character had traits that have been overly simplified while other traits have been greatly exaggerated. Take Brian for example, cause he was one of the hardest hit characters with that concept. At the start of the series, he was the intelligent voice of reason, but now he is an alcoholic, pretentious, unlikable scumbag! Peter went from lovable doofus to domestic abusive, underoos psychopath, and Lois went from caring housewife who played the piano beautifully to sexual deviant who’s obviously cheating on her husband, and not just with Bill Clinton! Meg went from typical awkward teenage girl to the show’s punching bag (more on that later), Joe was a heroic cop in spite of his handicap who’s now seen as pathetically worthless. And don’t get me started on Quagmire! While he was always perverted, he at least used to be likable. But now he’s noting more than a sex-crazed maniac. And he had the BALLS to call Brian out on his faults when he’s the BIGGEST FUCKING HYPOCRITE OF ALL TIME??!!

2. Convoluted/Recycled Episode Plots - A LOT OF EPISODES ARE THE SAME SHITTY PLOT!! No matter what season we’re on, if you get asked if you’ve seen the most recent episode of Family Guy, and you ask, “Isn’t that the one where Peter does some reckless shenanigan that leads to Brian ‘finding love,’ only for the relationship to end abruptly because of how unlikable that fucker is?,” YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT!! Also there’s the problem of two things going on at once. In one episode, Stewie gets PREGNANT (more on that later), while in that episode’s B-plot, Peter and the guys are trying to make a viral video. Honestly I forgot how well that turned out cause I was already disgusted by, uh, THAT plot! WHICH WAS WHY THERE SHOULD NOT BE MORE THAN ONE FUCKING PLOT IN A FUCKING EPISODE!!!!

3. Drawn Out/Extended/Overused “Jokes�� (aka Filler)- Yeah, I put that in quotation marks because a joke is supposed to be FUNNY! Not even the Joker would find the “humor” in this shitwad of a show hilarious! But I digress! You know the writers have not written enough material for an episode when they throw in something as filler just to fill up the 22-minute runtime. Like the chicken fights, while they are epic, they’re just really used as an excuse to make up for lack of material, because each fight just gets longer, and Longer, AND LONGER! And don’t expect that to end anytime soon, because Peter brings Ernie back to life solely because he didn’t want to be the only one responsible for paying for the damages their conflict has caused throughout town throughout the years! Oh and the Conway Twitty jokes! I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t really like them the first time, but that was at a time I DESPISED country music (I still hate modern country music, but thanks to New Vegas, I broadened my horizons, and my favorite music is metal). But in one scene, they decide to SHOW AN ENTIRE 3-MINUTE SONG!!! 3 MINUTES! OUT OF A 22-MINUTE EPISODE!!! Eventually, even God told Peter that Mr. Twitty himself says to cut it out and actually write a joke! And who can forget Peter falling and hurting his knee? The “SSS, AHHH” gag was funny the first time, but after being used repeatedly, it gets old fast! Also, I should mention the wasted minute of Carter smashing a park bench with a bulldozer.

4. Shocking/Grossout “Humor” - I purposefully didn’t mention this in my last point, but that moment when Peter “rescues” a beached whale with a forklift truck? Yeah he actually impales it with the truck’s forks, killing it instantly. Not only that, but he spends a minute and a half getting it off the forklift, spilling its entrails and even its fucking jaw! How about that episode where Brian GIVES STEWIE HERPES??? OR THE ONE WHERE STEWIE IMPREGNATES HIMSELF USING BRIAN’S DNA?!?! THATS FUCKING DISGUSTING!! I ALWAYS SKIP THE LATTER TWO EPISODES BECAUSE I DON’T EVER WANNA PUT MYSELF THROUGH THAT AGAIN!! How about a moment that got an episode banned from rebroadcast, when Peter wins the Boston Marathon by getting in his car and running over the other competitors? That’s NOT funny!

5. Mean-Spirited Show - Peter even admits he’s no longer attracted to Lois AND he didn’t like being around the kids, Lois encourages Meg to commit suicide, Brian became an unbearable douche after he writes a best-seller, Stewie tells Brian that he’s gonna buy a cake when he dies, Bonnie is hellbent on leaving Joe, even contemplated killing him, and the list goes on and on. That’s all I have to say…

6. Not Living Up To The Name - It’s called “Family Guy,” not “Idiotic Menace Does Whatever Moronic, Reckless Shenanigan That Pops In His Head With Zero Regard For His Family, His, Friends, Or His Whole Community At Large, And Gets Off Scott Free And Learns Nothing!” Peter Griffin, the so-called “Family Guy,” is a selfish, immature, drunk, abusive, unfaithful, apathetic, unsympathetic, unlikable, idiotic, psychopathic JACKASS!! HE PUTS HIS OWN DAUGHTER’S FACE TO HIS ASS AND FARTS IN IT!!! MORE ON THAT LATER! HE CONSTANTLY CHEATS ON HIS WIFE, HE DOESN’T REALLY CARE ABOUT CHRIS OR STEWIE, AND HE CONSTANTLY BELITTLES OR PUTS DOWN HIS OWN BEST FRIENDS, DRINKS WAY TO MUCH, AND DESTROYS THE FUCKING TOWN EVERY FEW YEARS FIGHTING ERNIE THE GIANT CHICKEN!! HOW THE FUCK IS HE NOT IN PRISON?!?!

7. Meg Bashing - WHY. THE. FUCK. IS. THIS. A. THING?!?! Meg started the season off as an unpopular high school girl, you know, normal teenage bullshit, and she suddenly becomes UNIVERSALLY HATED BY EVERYONE, ESPECIALLY HER FAMILY!!! LOIS AND PETER ATTEMPT TO ABANDON HER AT A FIRE STATION AS A BABY, LOIS MAKES IT A POINT TO PUT HER DOWN EVERY CHANCE SHE GETS, PETER FARTS ON HER, AND THE LIST GOES ON!!! WHY ALL THE HATE? BECAUSE APPARENTLY SHE’S “UGLY??” SHE’S NOT EVEN THAT UNATTRACTIVE!! EVERYONE ON THE SHOW SHOULD DIE A HORRIFIC DEATH!!!

[elle-m-baker]

Candle No Wick.

A fading memory…

I miss his smile the most. He used to feel safe. I loved how he kissed me. His presence always felt so gentle yet strong. I respected his work ethic and strength to never give up no matter how hard the days felt. I loved that he believed in the strength of prayer. He was funny. It made me happy watching the joy he’d get when dancing or singing to his favorite songs. He was nasty. He was smart. I loved how he challenged me through conversation. His body.. his voice… ughhh he just always left me wanting more.

I definitely saw myself with him but from the very beginning he made it clear that he had no interest in anything beyond our casual hangouts. Which was okay, but also left me feeling confused because though he didn’t want to pursue anything with me, he would often say things like I was lacking effort and that he wanted more.

I tried to do all the things I thought he wanted. I gave him my love, my body, my time. Shared moments of my life, motherhood, my family and friends. I was vulnerable. Never questioned him. Tried to talk through every disagreement with understanding and respect. Always addressed the things that I felt left him uneasy. I showed support through all the changes that were coming his way. Tried to be there for him in ways others weren’t. He always seemed to be down, and I just wanted to be someone who made his days better.

Sometimes I’d think about why that wasn’t enough? or why I wasn’t enough? Maybe we just didn’t have enough in common? Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me? Maybe there was someone else? Was I just a “buffer” for him? Did he simply just not want me?

At times he would be dismissive. Would do things like not speak to me for weeks at a time and say it’s because he was working long hours…. Which I tried to understand but couldn’t. I’m a single parent, I work full time, and in busier moments always found time to send a quick message of “thinking about you…” when I missed him.

He would often just leave me hanging. There was a time that I spent the entire day preparing to see him. Cleaned the house, bought us food, cleaned my car inside and out, got my nails done, hair done, spent time to feel good in what I wore, got the tequila we’d usually drink… all to be stood up. I sat in my car that night for a few hours feeling stupid as fuck.

Still, that never stopped me from jumping up at any moment that he said he wanted to spend time with me. I would drive at all hours of the night just to see him... & what did our time together look like? I would stop by with food and alcohol, we’d watch something, fuck, then I drive my ass right back home.

We started casually speaking in June 2022 which then led to these hangouts… but since knowing him there was only one time that we actually did something together. We went to see a movie then after went to a bar for some drinks. He paid for the movie, I paid for our drinks. Not once after that did he even ask me to go on as much as a walk with him. It’s funny because he’s also NEVER even called me. All of our communication was always through text. Talk about a lack of interest. We did have maybe 2 or 3 experiences “outside” together though… which always seemed to lead to some level of an argument.

I’d invite him to do other things or to meet the people in my life and it was always a no. He would say that he was uncomfortable in groups of people that he does not know or that money was tight… which I understood. On Christmas, I wanted so badly for him to come spend time with me at my family’s house so he wouldn’t be alone. It was just me and my cousin… nothing too overwhelming - no parents- I just wanted to see him but he made me feel so dumb for even asking.

I invested in him in so many ways including financially. There was never a time that I saw him that I didn’t make sure we ate and had alcohol. His Christmas gift, $400. He didn’t have headphones for the gym? Gave him my $300 AirPods. Was hungry? Would send him money or buy him food. Needed some cash to get by? Would send him money. Needed money to move? Sent him hundreds of dollars to make sure he didn’t have to worry. & I’m saying this not to hold it over his head but the reality is I fucking invested in every way I could for this man.

Sure I wasn’t perfect. I was stubborn. He felt I was pushing a relationship on him. Was portraying him negatively to the people closest to me. As much as I pushed the topic of wanting better communication, at times my own was shitty too.

He once asked me to send him nudes. Though it seems so common, it’s something I’ve never done with anyone before… which I never shared with him. Instead I agreed to doing it knowing that it made me uncomfortable. He continued to ask me for them and I continued to tell him I would send them. One day I actually worked up the courage to try and see what they would look like if I did take them. I slept so I would look rested, started my hair and makeup…then got a text message from him. He was upset because he felt I broke my promise and lied to him. Here’s the thing… I’m already sharing my body with him and to me his “ask” takes a lot of courage and should be received by someone who I trust. I wanted to do it but could I even trust him? Where’s he at now?…

There was a point in this timeline where he actually stopped speaking to me. He felt I always told him that he wasn’t doing enough when he was trying to give me all that he could. I missed him when we the communication was cut, but of course respected his space. Then he hit me up to “talk” and here I was thinking omg maybe he’s missed me as much as I miss him… lol. Nope! It was just him feeling badly and wanting to make sure there was no bad blood between us.

Then there was the case of the ex. There were a few things that came up on IG that I know led him not to trust me when it came to him… But If he ever welcomed the conversation he’d know that I would never get back with that man or sleep with him ever again. Fun fact… from the moment we got involved, not only did I not sleep with my ex again, but I didn’t sleep with anyone else. Even til this day he is the last man I had sex with and we haven’t seen each other in months.

As I’m writing this, I feel so crazy for hoping that we would’ve been together. It definitely feels like he was right in the feeling of me being pushy on the topic. Shit wasn’t always this weird though. He would have moments of saying sweet things to me, he’d give me beautiful advice and encourage me to pray, our time together did feel good… and one day even dropped the L word. He finally expressed some level of feelings for me and I had no idea what to do with it. The moment felt so good! He was so passionate when we had sex that night. Told me over and over that he loved me and with each time I fucking melted more. I knew I loved him but couldn’t believe he felt that for me. But wth did he even mean by it? He loved me? Or was he in love with me? I knew what I meant when I said it back but did he understand what I meant?

I thought that moment would bring us closer together but it just made me sad as fuck. He knew that I wanted to be with him… I always made that clear. Then he tells me he loves me… but that still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want anything with me. Why couldn’t he just respectfully remove himself from my life if i wasn’t what he wanted instead of toying with my feelings so deeply?

A few weeks after telling me he loves me he moved to another state and never even said bye. There was nothing. I hoped I meant a little something to him you know since he “loved me” but that moment showed me I didn’t. Sure he shared with me his plan to move but it was always up in the air… one moment he was moving the next he was staying. I found out through IG when it was actually confirmed that he was leaving and got see this transition in his life through his fucking story posts. Still I tried to be there and allowed him space to reach out when he was ready. When he did, all I wanted to do was show him I was still here and would love and support him even with the distance. Made sure that he was okay. That he was eating. That he could move to the place that would work well for him and enjoy this move and new season of his life. He expressed that he loved me often and was grateful for my support.

& here we are now. Weeks have passed. Mother’s Day passed. My birthday passed. And nothing from this man that “loved” me & I’m trying to let it go. Let him go.

The people in my life who have witnessed my season with him, all just think this is about money lost or me being bothered because of rejection, but it’s much deeper than that to me. I haven’t had much dating experience, my relationships have been extremely scarring, and I’m also just really fucking shy. It took a lot for me to even find the courage to exchange texts with him as we got to know each other. I was open and honest, fought though my insecurities, put my cards on the table for this person who I pictured myself with and in the end was GHOSTED. Not only is it embarrassing but it definitely hurts that I couldn’t even get a conversation. He just really didn’t care and moved forward as if I never existed. It’s just left me in a place where I have ZERO interest in dating again. Though I was left feeling hurt and shit was just all over the place, I still loved my time with him.

I honestly hope he is well and happy. Beyond wanting something with him he is just someone I genuinely care about. Sometimes I still wish that I’d see his name come across my phone. Or that I’ll see him again. Or wonder if he ever thinks about me. Other times I think about if he’s found someone… and though it makes me sad I do wish that for him. I hoped for a different outcome between us but eventually it became clear that we just weren’t fit each other. He’s just become a memory… but one that I’m grateful for.

A few lessons I’ve learned from this…

It's not my job to:

- Heal others.

- Please others at my expense.

- Make it work if the effort isn't mutual.

- Continuously compromise.

- Anticipate anyones needs.

- Change myself to anyones liking.

When getting to know someone:

- Be my true authentic self.

- Respect myself and my time.

- Love with no excuses.

- Move with genuine intentions.

- Set healthy boundaries that protect my energy.

- Leave when I’m not being valued.

- Say "No" when it's not in alignment.

- Be mindful with my "Yes".

Just a message…

Do not be so afraid to feel love or pain.. you will feel them both at their heights and you WILL BE OKAY 💜

[winterscaptain]

tali hello!! one thousand forehead kisses for you for taking top gun prompts it literally made my entire night!

could I ask you to do a hangman x reader? bonus points for jake acting like hot shit in front of his coworkers at the hard deck and then like… completely folding in front of reader and getting ragged on by the dagger squad bc he’s finally gotten locked down <3

much love, 🌻

Jake “Hangman” Seresin  x Gender Neutral Reader a top gun maverick fic

a/n: i hope it’s what you wanted my love!! let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see and i’d be happy to make it happen for you <3

words:  412 content advisories:  language, alcohol use, alcohol mention

summary: i’m down bad.

masterlist | requests are open

It’s way too easy to be close to him, but he doesn’t seem to mind too much. His fingers curl loosely around the beer bottle in his hand while his other hand rests just as loosely on your hip, one finger hooked into your belt loop. You started off simply leaning against his chair, but now that you’ve landed across his lap, you’re not inclined to move.

Natasha said something funny, you’re sure, but it’s hard to hear anything over the rush of blood in your ears, the nearly-embarrassing skip your heart made in your chest when you hear his laugh. Jake’s smile, you think - the real one, not the bullshit snarky one - should be an unofficial wonder of the world, or at least recognized by the US government as a national treasure. 

Put this man on a postage stamp. 

“Well,” he says, likely in reply to something you missed, “you know what they say about big feet.” 

Coyote looks at you with raised eyebrows. You wink at him. He smiles. 

Rooster answers promptly. “Bad dancer.” 

“You said that with an awful lot of authority,” Phoenix says with a smile. 

Rooster shrugs. “I don’t have big feet, so I wouldn’t know.” 

The entire group, at once, looks under and around the table to look at Rooster’s feet, firmly hidden in his sneakers. Jake rolls his eyes and you turn your head. 

“Nothing you have to worry about. Trust me.” 

He tries to hide his smile with a soft kiss to your cheek, but he’s caught out by the high color on his cheeks. 

“Uh oh,” Payback says with a smile. “Someone’s got Hangman blushing.” 

“I don’t blush,” he assures them. “I glow.” 

“Really?” Phoenix asks. “Then what’s that?” She reaches across the table and pokes his forehead, also dusted with an undeniable rosiness. Her fingerprint bounces pale for a moment, the color returning almost instantly. 

Jake swallows, looking far more dignified than any man in his mid-thirties with a flush down to his collar should, and replies, “My glow. Didn’t you hear me the first time?” 

“Mm,” she replies. “I can’t hear you when you’re full of shit. We’ve been over this.” 

He’s dug himself into a hole he can’t quite escape, especially given his position. To double down, you kiss his cheek. Unfortunately, he falls for it, leaning into you and closing his eyes a little too long to pass it off as a blink. 

Rooster and Phoenix share a look. He’s fucked. 

[ilovehimbos]

the poets but drunk and silly

ok they’re young and i know they were getting drunk in that cave at least once !!

neil will drink anything omg, it’s bc he thinks it makes him look cool to todd (it doesn’t but todd appreciates it all the same) he’s the one who will bring water when he knows that charlie is going to bring drinks but once he’s drunk? all rational thoughts leave.

he gets super cuddly and affectionate to todd and wants to constantly be touching him and he has tried to fight a multitude of inanimate objects to defend todd’s honour.

in the morning, he gets really bad hangovers but it’s never throwing up just migraines and shit.

omg todd meanwhile, will drink anything but bc he will drink anything. i think he’s drank before meeting all the poets, in the summer before welton especially, and bc of that, he has a rlly high alcohol tolerance (unlike neil, who gets handsy after one glass of wine). he can take shots like it’s water and all the poets find this incredibly attractive.

it really depends on the day when he’s drunk, bc he will cycle through every type. one minute, he’ll be sobbing and another he’s laughing rlly loud at everything. he’s so fucking funny though bc he’s not holding back any thoughts or sarcasm. probably forgets how to walk and giggles the whole way back. he gets horrible nausea the day after and it looks like he’s about to die sm.

charlie is the main provider of any drinks, who would’ve thought, and despite his bragging, he’s not even able to hold his liquor that well ! he gets even more reckless when drunk and is down for anything that neil suggests. if a drink is colourful, he’ll drink it. charlie is mainly reckless but sometimes he just wants some affection so he’ll annoy cameron as he loves to flirt with him. his hangovers surprisingly aren’t that bad but he’ll pretend like he’s dying bc he’s dramatic

meeks is an angry drunk omg. no one would’ve thought, but one wrong look at his friends and he’s ready to rip a person’s face off, but with the poets? he’s loud and will rant about random topics to a wall if no one’s there. average tolerance but once he gets a hold of sambuca its game over. it’s like hangovers don’t affect him??????? he’ll literally be able to get up early in the morning the next day and go on like nothing happened.

knox. i’m just gonna leave this here. we all know.

cameron is where the biggest change takes place. he’s normally pretty tense but when he’s tipsy it’s like a whole different person. suddenly, he’s the happiest person in the room ! cam gets super giggly and will laugh at anything. him and charlie get along great bc he’ll laugh so hard at the stupidest shit that he does. they’re all concerned, even charlie.

he just spends his night sipping at a bright cocktail, giggling and hiccupping the entire time. hangovers r average but he also gets bad nausea and spends the day on the bathroom floor. will probably rant about how much he loves his friends at least once.

pittsie my beloved is the resident quiet drunk of the group and they love him for it bc when he does talk, it gets the best reactions. he’ll either say something that opens everyone’s third eye or they’ll be crying laughing. he’s also really clumsy and with his long limbs he is a walking hazard. him and cam are laughing in the corner together and having the time of their lives. pitts has like a high-ish? tolerance but again, depends on what’s on the menu that night.

he has like chemical balance altering hangovers, someone get him a paracetamol.

[wandasleftshoe]

Glimpse of Us (Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Your timing had never been good when it came to Eddie Munson, nor had his been with you. Until one day, just maybe it was finally right.

A/N: I’m blasted rn, so it’s either gonna be good or it’s going to be shit. I live by that quote “write drunk, edit sober” or whatever tf the quote is. Enjoy, or don’t. Idc. Also, yes this is HEAVILY inspired by the song Glimpse of Us by Joji and minorly a part of my life that I wish to forget. Life imitates art, as they say. Feel free to listen to the playlist I listened to while writing this. 

Warnings: kinda sad, angst, cursing, mention of substance abuse, probably some grammar mistakes lol

Word Count: 2,739

I. 

It was sophomore year of highschool when Y/N started dating Eddie Munson. Life was like a dream, he was kind, funny, and only wanted to love and be with her. And she felt the exact same for him. It was like she found her missing piece, the flame burned bright between the two of them and everyone could see it, though people still talked.

That might have been what caused everything to happen. For months, the two basically lived together. Ate, breathed, and lived to be with each other. Others were jealous that Eddie “the Freak” Munsons had ended up with Hawkin’s local bombshell. Kids around school would whisper, the town loves to gossip, as we all know.

“He’s just using her to gain social status,” or “There’s no way she actually wants to be with him, it must be some charity case.” Everyone heard the whispers, even Y/N and Eddie, in their love sick world. That might have been why the two soon grew to loathe each other, or maybe, as they say, the flame simply burnt out. Either way, after about a year of bliss, a month of low communication, the two were done.

Soon after the breakup, Y/N climbed the social chain, of course she had always known everyone, and everyone knew her. But now that she was a single gal, the boys flocked, and she didn’t deny them. She joined the cheer squad, had a “close” group of friends within it. She played the part really well, everything in her life felt okay all things considered.

Until Eddie got a new girlfriend.

II.

After the breakup, Eddie was a mess. He didn’t know why things turned out the way they did, he loved Y/N. She was his girl, his heart, his entire fucking world. But when people started to talk, he listened to them, and not the girl he loved. In the deepest parts of his mind, he did feel inferior, like maybe what they were saying was true. How could a girl like her; gorgeous inside and out, the kindest, wisest soul he had ever met- want to be with a freak like him? What did he have to provide? A shitty cover band and some cool t-shirts? That was the kind of thinking that led him to letting her go. To give her a real chance at a good life, find someone just as caring, just as loyal, just as perfect as her.

When she rose to be one of the most popular girls at school, he couldn’t blame her, though it hurt to watch her go. He was proud of how she was blooming. But when the other boys at school started openly flirting and she didn’t turn them down, he figured it was time to move on.

I mean, how could it have been real to her if she could move on so easily, so fast? Or at least- that’s how it felt to Eddie.

Though if Eddie had been a mind reader he would have seen how much it pained her to not be with him. So she distracted herself the way she saw all of her friends did- with boys and alcohol. A little mindless flirting here, an insignificant date there, parties all the time. In all honesty, it did nothing to soothe the pain of not being with him. He was like her favorite drug, and now she was going through withdrawals.

So when Eddie showed up to school with his arm slung around some chick Y/N vaguely remembers walking down the hall from time to time, she couldn’t decide if she was crushed or if she was irrevocably angry. He had done the same thing to her not even a month ago, and now- now he was with some other girl? No, this wasn’t happening. How could she be so replaceable to him after all the time and love they shared? Her heart hurt, it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest and right out onto the floor in front of Eddie’s feet just to be crushed once again. This was her sign to move on, as impossible as it felt.

On the other side of things, Eddie felt like he was slowly being pulled out of that pit of darkness his mind swam in since the breakup. Rachel Fox, a girl he had known of since elementary school actually wanted to date him and after a few dates, they made it official. Eddie and Rachel, boyfriend and girlfriend. She saw Eddie in these dark times and she shown a light. And though he was slowly climbing his way out, she was patient with him. So careful not to tug on his fragile heart.

But sometimes, when they were alone together, Eddie couldn’t quite shake the thought of Y/N. He sees her in Rachel sometimes, when she’s extra caring or hugs him from behind, or kisses him in just the way to make shivers run down his spine. Something in his mind always snaped back to those times with Y/N, and he would catch a glimpse of what he used to have. And everytime he can’t help but still feel those feelings for her.

But he tried, he really did. Because Rachel was wonderful, she was a perfect girl. Only it felt like she wasn’t the perfect girl for him. He tried to appreciate everything he has right in front of him. Rachel loved him openly, quietly, in a way of her own that made him feel special. It’s just- she wasn’t Y/N. Y/N was loud with her love, just as he had been with her. She was a fierce lover, a solid foundation, and now that she was gone everything was rocky and shaky.

When the guilt of not being able to give Rachel the love she was giving him, he broke it off. He just couldn’t go on living in his head with the love of his life while this girl looked at him like he was her everything, it wasn’t right. He knew that. So he broke up with her, and he planned on going to Y/N and telling her everything. How he never stopped loving her and he was just too insecure about himself and let everything go too far. How he would never let her go again if she just took him back or even just let him into her life as a friend, he found himself and he could be the man she already thought he was. Because he realized something in the months that he wasn’t with her; it was all just talk. Nothing could replace the way he felt for this girl, nobody could tell him he wasn’t enough for her, not even himself. Eddie Munson was finally sure of himself and his feelings, and this time he was not going to let her go.

But he was too late.

III.

In the few months that Eddie and Rachel began dating, Y/N decided that enough was enough. She was Y/N motherfucking L/N. She was not going to let one stupid boy ruin her time. Nor any other boys. If she was going to date, it was going to be legit from now on and that’s exactly what she did. After about 6 months of working on herself, and figuring out what life is like by herself, she felt good enough in her own mind to begin opening back up again.

There was a period where she was stuck, drowning in the pain of losing Eddie. She couldn’t stand to be by herself. When she was at school she was always with someone in those first few months. At home, she was bugging her mom to hang out with her or out partying and drinking herself to death. It was only when she saw Eddie loving another girl that it snapped her out of that trance. Eddie would be so disappointed to see her doing this to herself, staying up all night crying and taking a shot of whatever liquor her parents had in the cabinet when she felt the slightest bit sober. It was like she could hear his voice in her head, telling her she was slowly ruining her own life. She needs to get up and rock life’s shit. She needs to do better, for herself.

That’s exactly what she did.

After some time, she was okay being alone. She could finally read again, something she enjoyed all her life until the breakup when she couldn’t stand her own thoughts. She could go to a party and be completely sober and have a wonderful time. She could go on a date with a boy and feel a connection.

The boy with said connection was David Mitchell. A linebacker who was really nice to talk to and made her have butterflies in her belly again. It was a relieving feeling, to feel excited about a boy who wasn’t Eddie Munson. And date after date, she came home feeling like maybe she was going to move on this time.

David was as lovely as any boy could be, he laughed loudly and was unapologetically himself not only around her but everyone else. She could see herself falling in love with him, though every time she caught Eddie staring at them from across the cafeteria, there was a tug at her heart. But that was over, right? He moved on, even said it the one time they spoke after the breakup.

But even after Eddie wasn’t in sight, she still thought of him. When David was professing his heart to her, that he savored every moment they were together like a dehydrated man finally getting a drop of water. Though David was amazing, on the lonely nights she didn’t think of David. She thought of Eddie.

It only got worse the day after news went around that Eddie and Rachel broke up. Y/N was sitting in David's car when she saw Eddie’s van whip in the school parking lot the way it always did, but he whipped it right to where her car was sitting. Like he was on a mission. Only to find she wasn’t in her car, she was in the spot beside it, in David’s. She only noticed the look of defeat on his face when David opened her door, pressed a kiss on her forehead, and said those god forsaken words, “I love you.”

It all felt like deja vu. Once upon a time, this was her and Eddie.

In that moment her heart broke once again. All those feelings came crashing back like the waves on a rocky shore.

She pushed them as far away as she could, but that entire day there was something in the back of her head, nagging at her to listen to her heart one more time. Stop using her brain and let herself fall back into those arms.

How could she though? She had everything right here. She was secure in her mind, she was sober, she had a guy who would walk thousands of miles just to tell her how much he loved her. She was happy, or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. It felt wrong to think that maybe she was unhappy with where she was, she wasn’t. Unsatisfied might be a better word for it. Even when she laid in his arms on those late nights, as happy as she felt, she knew this spot in his heart wasn’t meant for her.

Weeks went by before she could fully admit this to herself.

Weeks of her heart and her head battling each other, ripping and tearing at one another like starved lions fighting over the first live prey they’ve seen in days. It kept her up many nights, to the point where she thought of picking up that bottle again, but one thought kept her from doing that.

Eddie wouldn’t want me to go down that road again.

It was that thought that snapped it all into place for her. Eddie was the one that came to mind, not David. Sweet, sweet David, who was going to be heartbroken at this revelation. But it wasn’t fair to him, keeping him for as long as she had wasn’t fair to him, just as Eddie had thought about Rachel. Stupid great minds think alike. It’s as if they were never really meant to leave each other in the first place, who knew?

So she did it the very next day, unable to drag this on any longer. Yes, it hurt her very much, but it was for the best. She could not fully give herself to someone when she still loved another with all of her heart. All of her soul.

IV.

It wasn’t long (about 10 minutes to be exact) before word got around school that the golden couple, David and Y/N, broke up. As I’ve said before, Hawkins LOVES gossip, so much so that it got to the point where Y/N just decided to go home. A day, that was all she needed to get her mind together- or at least that’s what she told herself. At least now she wasn’t just wasting David’s time.

When news got around to Eddie, at first he didn’t know what to do with himself. This was it, finally after all this time of being out of time with Y/N, maybe this was his chance to win her back. Wait, but didn’t they just break up? Yes, this thought did run through Eddie’s mind. Being the gentleman he is, he decided to wait just a little longer, I mean he waited all this time. What's a few more days, or weeks just to let her feel all of her feelings. He just wanted her to be okay.

Eventually, days went by, and there was no sign of her at school. At this point, Eddie was getting worried. Y/N was at school the day after they broke up, looking like nothing was wrong. It made him feel like maybe this was hitting her harder than anything before. And though he might not know a lot, he did know Y/N. He knew her heart, and how fragile it was. He knew she needed a shoulder to cry on, to caress her sweet head and tell her everything was going to be okay. He decided he was going to go to her tonight, and offer that- as a friend. Not spring his feelings on her, just let her live and have someone on her side if she needed, he loved her enough that just having her in his life as even just a friend was enough.

So he did just that. That night, dark and stormy as he was, he grabbed the hand picked flowers he stole from his grandma’s yard earlier and ran to his van in the pouring rain.

Only he didn’t make it that far when a pair of headlights pulled into his driveway.

No, no, that’s not right. That familiar little Station Wagon wasn’t the one he thought it to be. That wasn’t Y/N’s car in his driveway. Not the girl he was just about to go see, practically falling out of her car and running up to him, hair already clinging to her face from the pouring rain.

But it was, it was his Y/N.

There she stood in front of him, looking like she just cracked some top secret government code, a familiar, warm look in her eyes.

“Eddie- I still love you.” Those words washed over him in a way he never thought they could. It was desperate, needy, all the things that he felt towards her. God, was this a dream? It had to be a dream. Y/N standing right in front of him confessing her love to him just as he had only hoped in his wildest dreams to happen again.

“I still love you too. I’m so wildly, unbelievably, profusely in love with you, and I’m sorry for everything that happened between us, but I’m ready to be with you again. I’ll wait- as long as you need me to, I’ll do it for you, Y/N-”

But his words are cut off by a kiss.

A single kiss that will lead to a lifetime of happiness.

[pervysenpaix]

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖊𝖙 - Keigo Takami (Hawks) ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

18+ WARNING - implied alcohol consumption, penetration, biting

𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍 𝕭𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑

"Really, (y/n)? Come on, kid. You're killing me." The blonde smirked, one hand perched at the top of the bookcase while the other lingered on the shorter girl's waist.

(Y/N) laughed breathlessly. Looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Absolutely not, Keigo. I've told you plenty of times before. It would never work" (Y/N) replied, absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. She had to know that she was driving him crazy right ?

It was never a challenge for Keigo to get a date, or even a quick fuck. Girls lined up for a chance. Everyone except (Y/N)(L/N). She'd constantly friendzone him. Even with the constant flirting and nonstop innuendos, she never gave him a chance. (Y/N) didn't take Keigo seriously and that hurt his pride.

"Seriously? Why not? It can't be looks because I know you think I'm hot. We've been doing this song and dance since freshman year. And, I'd very much like to hear you singing a different tune, babybird." Hawks grinned, dragging his tongue across his sharp canines. It looked like he saw a flash of interest in (Y/N)'s eyes but it was gone in an instant.

"Keigo, please." (Y/N) laughed, "yes you're very attractive but it's not just about looks for me. I don't do casual sex and I don't do college athletes."

"So when I go pro next year you'll date me then?" He retorted, a shit eating grin on his face. It was hard for (y/n) to hide her amusement. Yes, Keigo is hot and funny but, he was also shallow. So full of himself and extremely prideful. There's no way an entanglement with him would end well. Plus, she didn't want to risk losing a friend over some phenomenal sex. (Y/N) knew that it'd probably be good because she's heard from a friend of a friend that his dick was a 10/10.

"Not gonna happen, Keigo. Besides, I'm not your usual type." (Y/N) nodded her head towards the group of students occupying a nearby table. Hawks' bestfriends: Touya Todoroki, Tenko Shimura, and Rumi Usagiyami. Touya and Tenko were engrossed in a heated discussion, probably comparing trauma. While Rumi, glared daggers in their direction. "Are you crazy? Rumi isn't my type" he cringed, "she's just a friend".

"Does she know that?" (Y/N) quirked a brow and rested her hand against his toned chest. An audible scoff sounded, making Hawks whip his head around. Rumi immediately spun around, pretending to be interested in what the other two were discussing.

Rumi and (y/n) had never gotten along.

Everyone loved (y/n), the effortless beauty. The kindhearted, smart girl with the dazzling smile. It was no surprise that she was voted Freshman Sweetheart during their first year but, the crazy part is that she didn't even campaign.

Rumi spent weeks posting fliers, buying cookies, passing out buttons and sucking dick to ensure her votes. But, (y/n) swooped in and took it from her. The same way she was taking Hawks, and that hurt her pride.

"See you later, Keigo," (Y/N) rose to her tip toes to kiss his cheek, "Wouldn't want to keep your friends waiting".

**

"Do you think (y/n) will come tonight?" Keigo asks, watching his two friends set up the keg.

They had made it. It was the weekend before graduation. Their last chance to unwind before faced with the challenges of adulthood. So, what better way to celebrate than a raging party?

"Most likely. I think the entire senior class is coming." Tenko groaned, scratching at the back of his neck . HIs social battery was already at about a 25% so he was not excited about tonight.

"Why are you so obsessed with her? She's not even that pretty. Quite plain if you ask me' Rumi shrugged, combing through her silky straight bundles and adjusting her bunny ears.

"That's just it nobody asked you. (Y/N) is a natural beauty, unlike you James Charles" Touya drawled, "Hi Sisters!" Tenko chirped mockingly. It's no secret that they weren't the biggest fans of the girl. "Fuck you, Dabi. Don't make me call Enji and have him preheat the oven."

"ooo burn" Touya scoffed, rolling her eyes and flipping her off. "Literally" Tenko added matter-of-factly, making everyone laugh.

"On a serious note, I think you should stop fawning over that stuck up bitch. You're wasting your time." Rumi says.

"I'm not. I'm getting close I can feel it." Hawks responds. They've been closer than ever this year. Hanging out a bit more. Texting occasionally. She was the first person he called when he found out that he'd been drafted; they were so happy that they'd end up in the same city.

"Please" Rumi scoffed, "She'll never give it up. You have a better chance with me"

"Whore" Dabi coughed into his hand, making Keigo and Tenko cackle.

"Okay, how about this" Rumi hops from her seat, ignoring Touya, to stand between Keigo's legs. The blonde looks down at her with a confused expression but she just smiles and trails a finger down his chest. " I bet that you won't be able to fuck little miss sunshine tonight".

Keigo frowns, "I'm not about to bet on something like that." He tries to push her away but she grabbed his wrists, "you getting soft on me, Hawks? Losing your touch?" She smirks, knowing she's pushing the right buttons to get him riled up.

"What do I get if I win ? He asks, Dabi groan. "Dude, don't let your pride fuck up your thing with (y/n). He snapped, glaring in the white haired girl's direction.

"I'll be your slave for the entire week. I'll do whatever you say." she grins, ignoring the scoffs of the other two men. "And if I lose?" Hawks asks, and a wicked grin flashed across her face.

 "You'll be my slave".

 ***

"Wait, Keigo. Slow down !" (Y/N) giggled, legs locked around his waist as he carried her upstairs. "Not a chance in hell, Kid" He rasped and kicked the door open.

Keigo threw (Y/n) on the bed and she landed with a graceful "oof". "Why are we rushing?" (Y/N) whined playfully, leaning back on her elbows to watch Keigo strip. Humming in approval when she saw the prominent bulge in his boxers.

"You know good and well why I'm in a rush. I've been waiting to get you in my bed for four years. I can't wait anymore. Need you now."

Keigo grabbed (Y/N)'s ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Sliding her panties off with ease, he dipped a finger into her cunt. "You're fucking soaked, (y/n)" he groaned, pulling her dress up around her waist.

"Fuck, just like that. Please Kiego" Y/N whined as he added another finger. Thrusting quickly into her wet heat. Stretching and prepping her for the massive package waiting between his legs.

"Look at you falling apart for me" He murmured against her thigh, admiring the way she fucked herself against his fingers. (Y/N) was a vision of pure ecstasy; her fingers twisted in the sheets as she rolled her hips against Keigo's hand "More. Keigo, please-

Keigo chuckled, "more what? Do you want to come ? Already?" (Y/N) nodded, unable to speak because of how hard she bit her lip. The blonde added a third finger and curled them upwards. His slick digits massaged her gspot pulling erotic moans from the girl. "Fuck-" he croaked and kissed her thigh. He licked and sucked and bit; leaving dark bruises all over tender flesh. "Gonna mark you up" He mumbled, "Want everyone to know that you're mines now".

"Yes, Keigo... All yours" (Y/N) whimpered, the familiar tingle in her stomach signaled that she was getting close and she could tell that it was gonna be intense. But, as soon as it came. It went.

'Whyyyyyy" she whined when Keigo pulled his hand away. The blonde didn't respond, just slid between her legs and smashed their lips together. Their tongues danced and wrestled. It was messy and passionate. Both, feeling extremely desperate.

Keigo's big hands pawed at her breast through her dress, making her moan into his mouth. "You ready for me, babybird?" (Y/N) hummed, wrapping her legs tighter as he started to push in.

"SHIT!" He hissed, burrowing deeper into her heat. "You're so t-tight. I can't believe you kept this from me". (Y/N) giggled and pulled him in for another kiss. Saliva spilled from their mouths from the messy makeout session.

Erotic noises filled the room. The wet, gushing of (Y/N)'s juicy cunt. The lewd slapping of skin. The soft mewls and pornographic moans from (Y/N) when Keigo bit down on her shoulder. The grunts and groans of Keigo when (Y/N) scratched against the red wings on his tattooed back.

"Baby, I'm close" (Y/N) whimpered, Keigo nodded speeding up to chase their orgasms. With his head buried in the crook of her neck, he pounded into her, making her toes curl. (Y/N) swore she saw stars when the climax overtook her. Keigo followed, shortly behind. Pulling out and spilling on her stomach.

"Ahh, fuck- baby, I'm sorry about your dress." He groaned, just out of curtesy but honestly he didn't give a fuck. He was on cloud-nine. He had just fucked the girl of his dreams and probably gained a girlfriend.

"S'okay" she replied, smiling sweetly at the man. He felt his chest swell with pride. He did it. Finally gotten (y/n) into his bed. Finally made her his. His playboy days would be over. They'd move to the city together; she'd be a med student and he'd be a pro. It would be perfect and they'd live happily ever. Right ?

 Wrong .

 **

 "Keigo" (Y/N) groaned against his chest. "Keigo, wake up, your phone is ringing." Keigo mumbled something into her hair and squeezed her ass. She laughed and reached over to the nightstand to grab his phone. She was just about to pass it to him when a burst of messages caught her eye.

 Is she still there ?

 I guess so ,if you're not if you're not answering for me.

 I can't believe that bitch actually let you fuck her.

 Well, I guess you won the bet. Just tell me what you want 😏

 "KEIGO TAKAMI" he sat up immediately, "w-what's wrong, baby? What's going on?" He was alarmed and disheveled but the look on (y/n)'s face was very sobering.

"What bet, Keigo?" She whispered, tears threatening to fall.

"Y/N, I-

"Fuck you, Keigo!" She screamed, grabbing her things and storming out. He didn't even try to stop her, couldn't do anything. Just sat there and hung his head down low.

 Pride really does come before the fall.

 -Written by SimpinFoShoto

[mercurygguk]

what a man gotta do? | kth

genre; established relationship au, fluff

pairing; kim taehyung x female reader

summary; what a man gotta do when his girlfriend is insanely adorable when she’s drunk and doesn’t take no for an answer?

word count; 2,488

warnings; mentions of alcohol, a tiny bit of swearing, just soft tae and oc being a cute ass couple that i really adore

a/n; saw a text quote on tumblr, my brain popped an idea. this is it. also, i know nothing about gaming, so if anything i’ve written doesn’t make sense, just ignore it lol. please love it a lot and enjoy!! ps. please tell me what you think, thanks x

There is something so oddly pleasing about having the entire apartment to oneself on a Friday evening. Taehyung has been looking forward to this evening for a week and it is finally here. An entire evening for himself with his gaming console, his friends in his headphones and a big bowl of popcorn beside him. It’s quiet in the apartment as he sets up his gaming spot, fluffing the pillows and setting them up nicely on the couch so he can sit comfortably for the next many hours of nonstop gaming with his bestest friends.

The reason for his night alone is because his girlfriend’s (you) best friend just got promoted to a higher rank in the law firm she works at. She then went on to invite all her friends out for drinks which, of course, included you. Taehyung had fought to keep in his excitement when you had told him of your plans a week ago. You had eyed him down then, noticing the small exciting smile forming on his lips as he listened to your words carefully as if he actually cared. He was just overly excited to finally be able to have a gaming night without interruptions. And it’s not that he wants to sound ungrateful or like he enjoyed that you weren’t at home. He loved spending his Friday nights cuddled up with you, hell, that was his favorite Friday nights. But he’s only a boy, really. And a boy has needs. Gaming needs.

So he walks to the kitchen with a pep in his step as the microwave finishes with a loud ping! He pours the popcorn into a bowl and heads back to the couch where his gaming spot has been set up to perfection, everything in place and ready for him to have a relaxing night of games. He sits back in the mountain of pillows, sighing in content as he places the popcorn beside him before grabbing his headset. He sets it atop of his head, checking the sound and mic. Seconds later there’s an incoming call from his group of friends. 

He picks up with a grin on his face. “Hey guys!”

Seokjin gasps from the other end. “What the hell? Got a night off from the wife?”

Taehyung scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully, a small smile on his lips. “She’s out for drinks,” he explains, “best friend got promoted.”

“Em got promoted?” Jimin then asks, just now hearing about the news of his long-time crush.

A smirk appears on Taehyung’s face. “Yeah, like a week ago. She didn’t tell you?”

Jimin falls silent at his question. Taehyung wants to tell his best friend to get out of his misery and just ask the girl out. He’s a hundred percent sure she’d say yes within a heartbeat. In fact, when Em is here visiting you and Taehyung, she talks about Jimin more often than she’d ever admit.

“Just ask her out already!” Seokjin groans annoyed, causing Jimin to tell him to ‘fuck off’. Taehyung grins, having missed gaming and talking with his friends like this. He saw them a few days ago in person which was nice too, but gaming with them is just so different and fun. It’s been a long time since he has had the opportunity to game for an entire night with Seokjin and Jimin.

“Well,” Taehyung captures the attention of his two best friends, “shall we get started?”

And that’s how the next three hours pass. There’s bickering, arguing because Seokjin didn’t manage to cover for Taehyung which caused Taehyung to get killed. “Come on, hyung! You were supposed to cover for me!”

Seokjin sighs deeply on the other end, calming his temper. “You think I’m a mind reader? How was I supposed to know you’d-”

Taehyung’s phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He pulls the phone from his pocket to look at the caller-id. Your photo flashes across his screen, the wide smile on your face on a snowy day in December. A photo Taehyung snapped one day before Christmas, a day you had dragged him outside and into the snow. The first snow in Seoul in years and you had been so happy that you couldn’t stop smiling, so Taehyung saw it fit to snap a photo of you with his vintage camera which he had brought along.

“Hyung, one second,” he cuts off Seokjin’s rambling, removing his headset to answer your call.

“Hey babe,” Taehyung greets who he thinks is you. He stills, confused as Em greets him back in a rather serious, tired-sounding tone. “Oh, hey Em, did something happen?”

Em sighs deeply. “____ is drunk off her ass. Can you come get her?”

Drunk of her ass? You haven’t been drunk off your ass in months, which is why you being drunk so drunk right now doesn’t come as a shock to him. It’s been a while since you went out drinking like you’ve done tonight, so your body has gotten used to not fighting alcohol. Taehyung runs a hand through his dark black hair, removing it from his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come by. Where you at?”

With the information from Em, he hangs up and grabs his headset to put it back on. “Hey, guys, I gotta go.”

Jimin sounds like an unsatisfied child as he whines. Taehyung can imagine the pout. “What? Why?”

“Em just called,” he tells his best friend, “____ is drunk as hell. I have to go get her.”

Jimin mutters an ‘oh’ and so does Seokjin. They tell each other goodbye before Taehyung is shutting off his gaming console and heading for the front door. He grabs a coat from the closet in the hallway, throwing it over the white t-shirt and the green unbuttoned flannel he’s wearing. He jumps into a pair of boots and grabs his keys before heading out of the apartment. 

“Shit,” he swears under his breath as he steps outside, into the cold air of January. He takes long strides towards his car, getting in and turning the key in the ignition. The heat is immediately turned on before he pulls out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of the bar Em told him you’re at. “One night,” he mumbles lowly to himself as he slowly drives around the parking lot behind the bar to find an empty spot, “one freaking night.”

The bar is filled with people, some drunk and some just barely tipsy. The aura in there is happy, void of any worries these people might have on regular days. Taehyung skims the darkness of the bar, trying his best to spot you in the crowd. Soon enough his eyes zoom in on Em who’s waving at him. He glances to her right side, spotting you sitting there with your head resting on Em’s shoulder. You look like you’re passed out and Taehyung immediately finds himself worrying a bit more than he originally had. You never pass out, you just always end up being a slur who laughs a bit too much at anything you find funny in the moment.

“Hey,” Em greets Taehyung. He nods at her in a greeting as he stops in front of them, immediately squatting down to be at your level. He reaches out, brushing your hair out of your face. You look at him, eyes blank and unfocused as you take him in. Thank god, you’re not passed out, just closing your eyes for a few seconds for a short nap.

“Hi baby,” Taehyung coos, thumb brushing across your cheek. You smile sheepishly, a very soft and drunken smile. Your boyfriend has to stifle a laugh as you almost fall over as you sit up. He catches your shoulder with his warm palm, steadying you as he tries to catch your eyes with his own. “Wanna go home?”

You nod, not muttering a simple word other than a low hum as he helps you to your feet. You’re leaning against his chest, cuddling into the warmth of him as he talks to Em for a moment.

“Thanks for calling,” he tells her. 

Em nods with a grin and pats your shoulder as if to say goodbye. “Get her to bed,” she smirks, “she’ll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. He bids Em and your other friends goodbye before leaving the bar with you cuddled up against his chest. You’re stumbling alongside him, finding it rather difficult to stand on your own two feet.

“Baby,” Taehyung softly calls, “could you use your legs for a second? You’re way heavier when you’re not cooperating, you know?”

You mumble in response, nuzzling your body even closer to him. “I wuv y-you,” you hum, smiling with your eyes closed as you hug him tightly. The man holding you up can’t help but laugh at you, his heart swelling twice it’s size as you drunkenly confess how you feel for him. Even though he already knew that. Good thing it’s love confessions and not some other kind of confession that slips from your drunk mind.

Taehyung struggles to get you into the passenger seat but he manages. He helps you take a sip of the water bottle Em had gotten for you at the bar. Your head falls back against the headrest of the seat, eyes still closed and lips moving on in another round of mumbles and humming. Taehyung buckles you up before moving to his own seat behind the wheel. He glances at you as he ignites the car. You’re really a sight to see right now. Completely unfazed as you sit in a weird position in the passenger seat, your head lulling from side to side because you have absolutely no control over it at the moment.

“God, you’re drunk,” Taehyung sighs deeply, “let’s get you home.”

If Taehyung thought getting you in the passenger seat was hard, then he had another thing coming. Getting you out of the passenger, however, is a completely different ordeal and then getting you inside the apartment building and into the elevator was probably more exercise than Taehyung has ever done in one day. Ugh, he really hates going to the gym.

The front door is soon unlocked and you’re back home in the warmth of your shared apartment. After the elevator ride up, it’s almost as if you’ve sobered up again. You’re walking better, still holding onto Taehyung, but walking. You’re blabbering now, talking about how you and Em had tested who could drink the most shots in 30 seconds and who could chug a beer down the fastest. Taehyung listens with a small smile, shaking his head in amusement because this is so very much unlike you. But he’s happy you had fun with your friends.

“Oh, you should’ve seen the way I chugged down those shots,” you laugh, plopping down onto the couch as Taehyung kneels down to take off your shoes. “Em could not catch me at all!”

“I’m sure you were ace, baby,” Taehyung hums, grinning now because you’re way too cute when you’re drunk. He’s not even mad that you spoiled his gaming night because you’re too drunk to get home by yourself. This is a sight he would’ve hated to miss out on.

“My head hurts though,” you mumble, frowning. Taehyung matches your frown as he glances up at you while unclasping your heels from your feet.

Once your shoes are off, he gets back up. He cups your cheek, brushing a stray eyelash off it with the pad of his thumb. “Just gonna get a makeup wipe and some pills for your headache, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

You nod, smiling up at him. He pecks your forehead quickly before heading for the bathroom. Taehyung glances back at you to see you sitting there silently, wiggling your bare feet and hugging a pillow to your chest. He chuckles as he enters the bathroom to retrieve painkillers and a makeup wipe to clean your face. A few minutes after rummaging through the cabinets and the drawers, he exits the bathroom and heads back to you. He stops in his tracks when he notices you’re gone from your spot. He skims the living room, not finding you anywhere. What he does find though is something he hasn’t seen since he was like eight years old. Right there by the dining table behind the couch, you’re currently putting up a blanket fort, a wide grin on your face.

“Baby,” Taehyung catches your attention right away, “whatcha’ doing?”

You smile, looking back at the project you’ve started. “What does it look like I’m doing? It’s a blanket fort!”

Taehyung steps closer, nodding. “I can see that.”

It doesn’t take long for you to finish setting it up before you’re grabbing pillows from the couch, throwing them inside the blanket fort. You’re way too good at this. Something tells Taehyung that you’ve made a lot of these as a child. You emerge from the fort to motion at him, beckoning him to join you. “Come on,” you insist.

Your boyfriend looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind, when really, you’re just tipsy as hell. “____, shouldn’t we just go to bed? I mean, this is-”

“Just get in the fucking blanket fort.” 

Taehyung’s eyes widen as you stare back at him with hard eyes. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in surrender, painkillers in one and a makeup wipe in the other, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The hard stare turns into a wide, content smile and Taehyung seriously thinks he’ll get a whiplash from how fast you can switch between facial expressions. You’re already inside the blanket fort when Taehyung stands in front of the opening to it. He squats down, looking inside. It did look insanely inviting and cozy in there. You pat the spot next to you on the blanket, still smiling. Taehyung sighs as he knows you won’t give up until he’s inside your blanket fort. You really don’t take no for an answer.

“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” Taehyung shakes his head before crawling inside the fort, plopping down beside you. You lay on your side facing him with a grin. “I haven’t been in a blanket fort since I was eight.”

You laugh, reaching for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Then we must make blanket forts more often.”

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely��inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.