#just in case someone misses the humor

[griffinsboyfriend]

Since nobody asked, here’s my Untameable MC and Kit!

[dykedvonte]

Something something perhaps the reason Curly lacks a truly undamaged ID where his face is visible is to represent how much damage Jimmy had already affected on him throughout their relationship and the way Curly obscured part of who he is and what he stood to unintentionally cater to this toxic influence in his life.

[forlix]

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy. He moves to pour himself a shot.

“What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

That is, aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus as he pores over his production homework. You can hear music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He startles as if coming out of a trance, then begins to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers, but only after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. You brush a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly that you barely remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Always,” you say. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum.

“Says you,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

Your lips find each other’s again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity. Some time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to whisper for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing; you’re hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you breathe. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear.

Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes—but happiness looks better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[solarspirit]

How They Comfort You

(luffy, nami, sanji, zoro, usopp)

with the east blue five because i miss pre time skip one piece

edit: over 300 likes?! tysm i didnt think my random thoughts would get so far

Luffy

As goofy and dumb as he usually seems,  Luffy is actually pretty perceptive. 

If he notices you sulking by yourself, he’ll plop right down next to you, holding a big juicy stick of meat to share with you

Food always makes him feel better, so it should make you feel better, right? 

If you want to vent your troubles to him, he’ll nod along with a very serious expression and not understand any of it. At least he’s trying! 

If you cry, he’ll panic for a second before making silly faces to distract you and eventually cheer you up

Overall, he’s not great with what to say, but his presence and (somewhat helpful) attempts to make you feel better are comforting 

Nami

Out of all the Straw Hats, she’s the best person to go to for comfort 

She’ll actually ask you what you want, if you need advice or words of comfort, she’ll give them to you, and if you just want a hug or silence, she’ll do that instead 

Nami’s a hugger, so her go-to is to give you a warm hug anyway.

If you’re on an island, she’ll treat your sadness with retail therapy. Even if you don’t buy anything, trying on different outfits or looking at whatever you’re interested in helps take your mind off things 

If you’re really inconsolable, she’ll offer you something from her treasures she knows you’ve had your eye on. Only as a last case scenario, and she insists it’s a one time thing (it won’t be) 

Sanji 

Obviously, he’s going to cook for you. 

Sweet, savory, salty, whatever your comfort food is, he’ll make it as soon as he notices you’re sad. 

Although he already bends over backward for you anyway, he’ll be even more compliant with anything you ask for to try and make you feel better. 

If you smoke, he’ll  offer you a cigarette and some kind words to tide you over 

If you don’t, he’ll still give you solid advice or comfort to make you feel better. He’s pretty logical and is able to figure out how to solve whatever you’re going through.  

Zoro 

Zoro knows when something is wrong, but doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do about it. 

If you’re sulking, he’ll sigh and sit with you until you break the silence. If you don’t want to talk and just need someone to be with you, he’s your guy. 

Zoro will give you solid advice if you ask for it, but won’t sugarcoat it. It’ll be blunt and straightforward.

 If you want comforting words for him, you’ll get them, but he’d rather just pat your head and listen to you vent. 

He’s one of those people who doesn’t know what to do when someone cries in front of them, so it’s a little awkward if you start crying. 

If you initiate it, he’ll let you cry into his chest and tell you it’s okay (partially because he doesn’t know what else to say). 

He’s not great at comforting you, but he tries his best

Usopp 

Usopp relies on humor and lies not fully true stories to cheer you up. 

Whenever you’re sad, he’ll come up with a tale of a grand adventure to take your mind off things 

Whatever he’s talking about, it’s so absurd that you find yourself laughing through your tears, or so indignant on proving what he’s saying is false that you forget  your troubles

He won’t let you be sad by yourself either–if he notices you’re sulking, suddenly the ship has a random repair he absolutely needs your help on, he needs your help with canon practice, any excuse to pull you out of your sadness 

If that doesn’t work, he’s always willing to listen to what you have to say and has surprisingly good advice on how to feel better 

[describe-things]

This post is made with speech to text because my hand hurts from typing so much today. Please forgive any typos or speech to text swapping similar sounding words.

If you would like to start writing your own image descriptions, feel free to ask any questions.

The main things to keep in mind is that they should begin with some variation of image description start or ID, and end with some variation of image description and, and ID or something like that. This distinguish the image description from the caption or anything else.

Image descriptions should not be written in italics, bold, all caps, or any colors. If text in the image is in all caps, write it in regular case, and simply note before or after it that it's in all caps.

Image descriptions should describe all images in the post, without skipping any. This includes images that are nothing but text.

Plain text image descriptions in the body of the post are more accessible than alt text alone, because many people who need image descriptions cannot use alt text, and Tumblr is known for its glitches, so the accessibility of the alt text all by itself varies widely over time.

It is more accessible to have the image descriptions indented than not, because this helps to visually separate the image description from the caption. Having brackets or parentheses at the end is also helpful for this. This allows people to easily distinguish between the caption and the image description if they need to.

If you are an artist, writing image descriptions for your art will give you full control over the image description, and will allow you to correctly identify details that others might miss. This gives you the opportunity to show which parts of your art hold meaning to you and are important to notice.

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As an example, if there is a very clearly fake screenshot, do not say that it is simply a screenshot, or if a photo is very blatantly photoshopped, do not say that it is simply a photo. Say an edited photo, a badly edited photo, a screenshot with editing, something like that to indicate the changes have been made and then what you are going to be describing is not the natural version.

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Unless you are transcribing a text within the image, do not use meme speak within image descriptions. Do not refer to dogs as doggos for example, unless it is to specify that the dog in the image is, within the image, labeled as a doggo. Do not describe someone walking downstairs as breasted bubbly downstairs, even if it is an actor humorously walking down the stairs to imitate that sentence. Describe the facts of the movements, and then you can make the comparison for clarity.

If someone adds an image description to your post whether this be an original post or a reblog that you have added an image to, it doesn't matter how many notes to post already has, please copy and paste that image description into the original post or your original reblog. If it is a new post that has only a few notes from friends, after you update the original, you can just ask your friends to delete the reblogs of the inaccessible version and reblog the new one. Most people who are good people and care about disabled people will happily do so.

Keep in mind that image descriptions are accessibility tools. Treat them as such.

Anyone can write image descriptions. You do not need any special qualifications or training. As long as you are willing to take constructive criticism if you make a mistake, an image description written by someone who's new to it and honestly doing their best with good intentions is better than no image description at all.

I'm sure I'm forgetting some things, so please feel free to add on more tips and advice.

[fullsunstrawberry]

Love Beyond Labels

synopsis: the misunderstood "rich girl," reveals her academic struggles to a loner with his own challenges. In an unexpected twist, they form a unique friendship—she gets study help, and he gains a true companion.

genre: slice of life, humor, fluff, angst, smut, freaky nerd

warnings**: bullying, swearing, self-hate, mentions of anxiety, jokes of social "suicide", dreamies are kinda mean in this..., no condom mentioned, praising, fingering, marking, lots of boobie touching cause haechan loves them okay, make-up sex, idk probably more lol

word count: 8.9k

a/n: first ever written fanfic....kinda nervous haha

School is easy, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. Well, that's what all your classmates thought. They didn't know how difficult school was for you. You never got what was happening in class. Anytime you got an answer wrong, no one batted an eye because who expects the rich pretty girl to get an answer right? But little did they know you would cry in the janitor's room after each time. You just hated feeling so dumb.

"Ugh, I'm not ready for today's test," Jaemin huffed, plopping down beside you.

"Wait, there's a test?" you sighed, already predicting the outcome.

Mr. Moon whispered a half-hearted "good luck" as he handed you the test, before moving on and finishing handing out everyone else’s tests. He already knew how it was going to go.

You hated how even the teachers knew you were stupid.

After the test, you already knew you failed it. You were the last one to turn your test in, when Jaemin asked if you wanted to meet up with him, Jeno, Mark, and Chenle for lunch. You nodded telling him you had to stop at the office real quick.

Instead of walking towards the office, you sped walked to the janitor's closet, already feeling the tears threaten to escape. You knew you failed that test. Even though you acted like you didn’t know you had a test, you lied. You’ve been studying for it for a long time. Even canceling plans. But you would never admit it to anyone. You studied your ass off but still failed, that’s even more pathetic than forgetting about it.

You quickly took out the keys and opened the door quickly so no other student would see it. You thank the janitor for being so forgetful that you could easily steal one of his keys. He has a bunch of copies, one missing wouldn’t hurt. Right as you locked the door you sat in the corner, not even bothering to turn the lights on.

you were always an ugly crier, but it was okay cause you bought the most expensive waterproof makeup for these occasions. Only a quick bathroom stop is needed before meeting your friends for lunch.

As you were drying your tears you heard the door jiggle and then open. you quickly hid your face just in case it was someone you knew.

"Y/N?" a voice you didn't recognize spoke, interrupting your quiet moment in the janitor's closet.

Confused, you wiped your face and looked up at the mystery voice. You kind of recognized the thick black glasses boy in front of you. You knew he was in some of your classes but you couldn’t think of his name.

Fearing the worst you cleared your throat before asking “What do you want?”

“Uh, I don't want anything!" the boy replied, swiftly stepping into the room and closing the door. You noticed he had his lunch tray with him. "This might sound pathetic, but I like to eat my lunch here."

confused, you asked him “Why would you do that?”

“Well I don’t really have friends and I don’t want to get picked on” he explained sitting down next to you, not having much of a choice because there wasn’t that much room.

"Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just go," you said, preparing to stand up. But before you could, he quickly called out your name, making you look down at him.

"You're not bothering me! You can stay and talk about what's going on. I know we don't talk, but I can listen to you." His hopeful eyes convinced you to sit back down. You quickly wiped away your tears before confiding in him.

“You can’t tell anyone this!“ You put your pinky finger up and put it near him. “promise?”

“I don’t have many people to tell” he let out a small laugh while putting his hands up defensively. “promise!” he took your pinky finger in his

“okay” you nodded “I failed my psychology test today”

you looked at his face and he looked confused “What?” you questioned

“Oh it's just, you always fail your tests. Everyone knows that”

As he said that you felt the tears start to come back. Of course, he wouldn’t get it. Why did you ever think he would get it?

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry” he panicked “I shouldn’t have said that!”

you turn away, quickly wiping away your tears again. “no I get it, I’m the dumb girl”

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant. Hey, want to hear something embarrassing about me? I'm only here because of a scholarship. That's why no one wants to be friends with me!" he confessed.

you start to giggle “That’s not embarrassing!”

“It made you laugh! But here is something actually embarrassing, my teacher forgot my name today. Even though I've had her for the whole year.”

Your eyes widen, feeling bad that you forgot his name.

“ahh you don’t know my name either”

you smile “If you tell me your name, I’ll forgive you”

“haechan”

“That's a nice name, haechan” You smiled at the way it rolled off your tongue. 

“thank you, I have a proposition or a proposal”

“I know what proposition means” you teased

he giggled, “I’ll help you study”

your eyes lit up, “really? What can I do for you?”

he avoided your eyes and cleared his throat “Be my friend”

your eyes softened “That’s not hard, I was going to be your friend after this conversation anyways” You pushed his shoulder.

He finally met your eyes and smiled at you. “then you don’t have to do anything, friends help friends”

As the bell faintly rang, you pulled out your phone. "Here, give me your number so we can talk."

he paused for a second before taking your phone

standing up and thanking him before you quickly left to go touch up your makeup in the bathroom. Reminding yourself you would have to tell Jaemin you were sorry for ditching him and the guys.

You walked into your next class as the late bell rang. 

“there you are! Jaemin told me you ditched us” Mark laughed. 

“I didn't mean to ditch you guys, just got carried away.” 

“carried away, with what?” 

“I was working on my psychology essay, and I can't believe she makes us write one every week!” you huffed out, setting your bag down before sitting down. 

“Could have just said you were talking to guys instead of lying.” Mark laughed, too interested in whatever was on his phone to notice your face drop. What did your friends think of you? 

“What do you mean?” 

Mark glanced at you before laughing, “You always procrastinate, there is no way you even started it!” 

Instead of arguing you turned to face the front, pulling out your notebook. The essay is due in two days, of course, you started it. There would be no way for you to finish the four pages if you didn't. Turning towards Mark again you huffed out, “Well someone is helping me study.”

Shocked, Mark quickly faced towards you “What? What happened to y/n?” 

You scoffed, “Really? That surprising”

“I am, you never really cared for grades”

“Well I'm sick of failing every test” 

“So who's helping you out?” Mark leaned towards you “Could have just asked me”

“His name is Haechan”

Mark’s eyebrows furrowed “That one kid that eats in the bathroom?”

“He doesn't eat in the bathroom!” You defended 

“Just be careful, he’s a little weird” 

“What do you mean, you don’t even know him” You started to get upset.

“He doesn't really talk to anyone”  He could see how your face scrunched up and you were about to start an argument with him so he shrugged, not really caring “Why didn't you ask me, I'm one of the top students”

You didn't really want to explain what happened so you just blew his question off. Before he could press you for an answer, the teacher walked in. 

Haechannie🤓🐻: When do you want to start?

Y/N☺️: I have my psychology paper due soon. Could you read it over before I turn it in?

Haechannie🤓🐻: Yeah meet me at the public library after school 

Y/N☺️: Thanks!

Haechannie🤓🐻: No problem :)

Jaemin and Jeno are probably thinking you're going crazy when you tell them you didn't need a ride after school. But you didn't want them to drop you off at the library and question you the same way Mark did in class. So you just said you were meeting up with a girlfriend of yours who wanted to walk to the park. At the mention of a girl, they didn’t question anything. 

Now that's how you ended up looking around the library for Haechan. He wasn't on the first or second floor, so you started making your way up to the third floor. Questioning why he even would go all the way up there, no one liked the third floor. As you looked around you spotted Haechan sitting at a table in the corner. 

As he heard you coming, he looked up and smiled. “Took you long enough!”

“Who even uses the third floor of the library, all the books up here are just textbooks.” You huffed out, setting your bag down and taking out everything you needed. 

“That’s the whole point! It’s quiet up here” 

You can admit, that he has a point! Maybe you will actually start using the third floor more. As if you ever go to the public library without your friends dragging you there. Liking your room for studying a lot more because there are no judging eyes. 

“Okay, let’s get started! Let me see what you have already” Haechan smiled at you. 

You pulled out your notebook and quickly found the page you started to write on before handing it to Haechan. As you handed it to him, your fingers brushed, which made Haechan pull away quickly. 

You watched as his eyes read through everything you wrote. Anxiety started to fill you up. What if it was really bad and he thinks you're even more of an idiot than before? Ugh, he’s a nice guy, he wouldn't think like that. But you don’t really know him— Before your inner monologue continues Haechan put down your notebook. Shock showed in his eyes. 

“Wow, that was really good! The way you described Sensation and Perception was easy to understand. How do you usually fail with papers like this?”

Shocked that he actually liked your paper it took you a couple of seconds to register his question. “I usually get good grades on my papers and in-class work, but tests always seem to get to me.” 

“mmm, I understand,” Haechan hummed. “A lot of people have test anxiety, I have some tips I can give you if you want” 

Your eyes lit up as you nodded, eager to hear what he had to say. 

“It’s getting quite late, maybe we should start wrapping this up?” Haechan yawned. 

You quickly looked at the time, not believing him that it was so late. You gasped, shocked at how quickly time passed with Haechan. “Oh, I better get going, before my mom starts to ask questions.” 

“Yeah, I have to get going too. It was nice hanging out with you.” Haechan quickly gathered up all his things before moving to leave. 

“Wait!” 

Haechan paused looking at you confused. 

“What are you doing tomorrow after class?” 

“Nothing, until I have to go in for work” Haechan sighed “I don’t want to study again tomorrow”

A little taken aback by the change in his tone, you quickly cleared things up “That’s not what I was going to ask you! I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out, like at the mall or something”

you couldn't quite read the emotion on Haechan’s face. Was he shocked? Happy? Confused? Maybe a little bit of each. 

“Oh um yeah, we can hang out.” 

“Good, I’ll text you the details” You smiled before turning away and leaving him to stand there not knowing what was going on in his head. 

The final bell rang as you rushed out to find Haechan. Earlier promising that you both would take the bus to the mall together. 

Your eyes lit up seeing him standing at the bus stop, calling out a quick “Haechan” to get his attention. Which seemed to work as he found you in the crowd of other students. 

As you finally pushed through all the people to get to Haechan, your face dropped. He wasn't looking at you anymore. “What’s wrong?” 

“You don’t want to be caught hanging out with me, it will ruin your reputation.” He whispered 

Taken aback you laughed, which turned into a heavier laugher. Shocked and confused by your reaction, Haechan turned towards you, watching you laugh like you were crazy. “I’m not joking! Hanging out with me in public is literally social suicide”

You took a couple of deep breaths before answering him “Haechan, this isn't some teen drama! Who even cares about that” 

Haechan looked embarrassed by this and started to fiddle with his fingers. You saw the bus starting to pull up so you took hold of his hand. Stopping him from fiddling with them and making sure you didn't lose him to the crowd of people waiting for the bus. 

If you were paying more attention, you would have seen how bright his cheeks turned. Before quickly snapping out of it. 

As you got onto the bus, you noticed how full it was. Only noticed one seat in the back. quickly you pulled him towards the back and offered him the seat. 

Shaking his head, he told you to sit down. But you insisted that you were okay with standing. Looking around you noticed the other people starting to get annoyed, even hearing an older lady saying she hates teenage couples. 

Before he could protest, you pushed him down onto the seat and sat on his knee. “Are you happy now? It’s a win-win situation, we both get to sit now” You smiled. 

The whole ride there was silent. Maybe the stunt you pulled on the bus was a little too much for him to handle. 

But you didn't let that stop you from grabbing his hand when the bus finally arrived at the mall. Excitedly telling Haechan about all your favorite stores and sales that are going on right now. 

He didn't seem to care when you kept dragging him to different clothing and makeup stores. It wasn't until you noticed how uncomfortable he was did you realized how rude you were being. 

“Oh shit sorry, where do you want to go next?”

 Taken back by this Haechan quickly tried to brush it off “No it’s okay, where do you want to go next?” Not letting him dodge the question you push him for an answer. “No, come on, let's go somewhere you like next!”

“Uh I like Gamestop” 

“Then we are off to Gamestop, I know where it is because it’s next to my favorite shoe store!” 

Haechan’s eyes lit up when he saw the new Lord of the Fallen had been released. “Cool! I’ve been waiting for this to come out” But as quickly as he picked it up he put it down. 

“You're not going to get it?” You questioned

“Oh no, it’s too much money” He turned to look at other things, leaving you the opportunity to grab and pay for the game without him knowing. 

Finding him in the back, you asked if he was finished looking around. Which earned you a nod. As you stepped out of the store, you held up the bag. “What did you get?” Haechan asked, confused. 

“It’s for you” You giggled handing him the bag. 

He hesitated before looking in the bag and gasping “Y/n, this is $80!” 

“That’s nothing! I love buying my friends things that I know they will like” You smiled, hooking your arm with his. “Now I'm hungry, let's go eat.” 

The food court wasn't your first choice, but haechan insisted. Arguing that he knew you were going to try to pay for his food if you went to some fancy restaurant. Which he is right, you would have. But you settled for paying for his Taco Bell instead. 

“Let's go near the carousel I love the view and plus not a lot of people sit over there”

Haechan nodded, letting you show the way. 

Everything was going very smooth. You wanted to do this again and again. But as you were in your own world you heard voices call out “Hyuck”. Haechan's eyes widened and looked around. 

Two boys, one tall and one short, sat down near you guys. 

“Long time no see, we missed you!” The taller one said either not knowing or not caring about your presence. 

The shorter one cleared his throat before asking Haechan “So are you going to introduce us” 

Haechan laughed nervously before looking at you, pointing to the shorter one “This is Huang Renjun” and then pointing to the taller one who seem to now noticed you were there “And this is Park Jisung” 

Before Haechan could speak you smiled “I'm F/N L/N!” 

Haechan winced at your mentioning your last name. You looked at the other guys and their faces dropped. Confused, you asked “what's wrong?” 

Haechan quickly cleared his throat and explained “It’s nothing! We used to know someone with that last name and so they're just surprised.” 

The two boys looked confused before nodding “Sorry, just bad memories” Renjun forced a smile before getting up and announcing “Oh we’re gonna be late for our movie, let’s go Jisung” 

They left before you could even get in another word. Noticing your shock, Haechan shakes his head “Those are my friends from my childhood, we haven't talked in a while because we go to different schools now.” 

Not wanting to push you just hummed.

Something felt weird but you didn't want to bring it up. Today has been one of your favorites and you didn't want to sour the mood by letting Haechan know his friends acted a bit rude. 

So the whole time you didn't bring it up, instead going back to your cheery self. After a few more stores, you both decided that was enough for today and Haechan really needed to get home so he could get enough sleep before having to go to his part-time job. 

Soon days, weeks, and months flew by. Hanging out with Haechan really made things go by so quickly. You liked his company. So did your teachers, complimenting you on passing all your tests. One even accused you of cheating, but Haechan stepped in and confessed he had been helping you study.

Even your parents seemed to notice the change in your mood. Your mother loves getting her cheerful daughter back. The only people who seemed to hate the “new and improved y/n” were your best friends. It started with Jaemin accusing you of sleeping with Mr. Moon because he swore there’s no way you could have gotten scored higher on your test then him. Obviously, you were pissed that he could even suggest something like that.

So you ended up admitting to your not-so-secret tutoring sessions to your friends one day at lunch.

“So that's where you've been during lunch?” Chenle questioned. 

“Yes, we’ve been eating in the library together” 

“So you’ve been ditching us for that nerd this whole time!” Jeno’s voice raised, causing some of the other students in the cafeteria to look at your table. 

“Don’t call him a nerd!” 

“But he is one!” Jeno threw his hands up in the air. 

“Just because he gets good grades? Then why don’t you call Mark or Jaemin a nerd?”

“Y/N Come on, why are you defending him? He’s just some loser who eats in the bathroom when you're not at school” Chenle laughed, trying to get everyone to calm down. 

Taken back by how rude your best friends were, you looked around and made eye contact with Haechan. 

He was supposed to meet your friends today. He was really excited after you hyped all of them up. But as he was walking to your table, you could tell that he heard everything. 

You saw how his eyes were starting to water. 

“Maybe he is a nerd but he is way hotter than all of you! Bet he can actually get me to cum unlike any of you” You smirked knowing this would get on their nerves. Hitting it where it hurt, their egos. 

You heard Jaemin scuff, “Yeah right, we all know your type! You wouldn't even kiss him” 

Taking the challenge, you looked around and spotted Haechan again. But this time his face was red and his eyes were wide. You smirked, “wanna bet?” 

The tension in the cafeteria was thick after your bold statement, and all eyes seemed to be on the unfolding drama. Your best friends wore expressions of disbelief mixed with irritation. You made your way over to Haechan.

Haechan's eyes showed surprise, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You could feel the weight of the challenge in the air as you took a hold of his sweater collar, the fabric warm beneath your fingers. The cafeteria buzzed with hushed whispers and curious glances, but your focus was solely on him.

Pulling him down gently, your lips hovered near Haechan's ear, and you breathed out a teasing question. "Can I?" The words were soft, carrying a hint of playfulness.

In response, Haechan nodded fervently, his eyes wide with anticipation. "Please," he whispered back, his voice barely audible.

With a mischievous smirk, you seized the moment, closing the distance between your lips and Haechan lips. Time seemed to slow as the cafeteria fell into a stunned silence, and then erupted into a mix of gasps, whispers, and scattered applause. The unexpected turn of events had caught everyone off guard, including your best friends, who now wore expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.

Breaking the kiss, you stepped back. You saw how Haechan went to lean back in again. Quickly placing a short kiss to his lips you whispered “everyone watching us” His eyes widened and looked around the cafeteria. Making you giggle and whisper a hushed “Cute”

After your little stunt in the cafeteria, everyone’s been asking you who that guy was and if you two are dating. You already knew poor Haechan was getting the same questions. 

Y/N😊❤️: People keep asking me if you’re a good kisser

Haechannie🤓🐻: Well am I?

Y/N😊❤️: Absolutely

Y/N😊❤️: What are you doing after school?

Haechannie🤓🐻: Working and then going home

Y/N😊❤️: When do you get off? Want to hang out with you

Haechannie🤓🐻: 9 pm, at the convenience store on the other side of town

Haechannie🤓🐻: we can hang out only if you promise to kiss me again

Y/N😊❤️: we’ll see ;)

The convenience store was a far walk from your house so you asked your friend Yuna to drive you. But that didn’t stop your parents from scolding you for going out so late. All you had to say was that you were staying over at Yuna’s house. Yuna is your mom's best friend's daughter. She had no problem with this because last summer you had to do the same thing for her. 

There was only a few people at the convenience store. You saw Haechan slumped over at the counter scrolling through his phone. “Aren’t you supposed to be working”

Haechan jumped up from his sitting position, ready to be scolded by his manager. But when his eyes landed on you he shook his head “Ah you scared me! I still have 10 minutes until closing” 

“I wanted to get here early, I heard there is a cute cashier boy here” you smirked

You can already see Haechan’s face start to become a light shade of red. 

“Stop flirting with me, I'm working!” 

Before you could say a comeback, an older guy put down his stuff on the register. 

“She’s just trying to get free stuff” The random guy scoffed

Taken aback you scoff, tilting your head “What do you mean by that?”

“You’re too pretty for him”

You looked at Haechan and saw his head lower. 

Looking back at the guy you laugh “Nerdy guys are the freakiest” you winked

Haechan’s eyes widened, not being able to make eye contact with anyone. 

“All girls are the same” The guy harshly stated before throwing ten dollars on the counter and leaving. 

“How do you know I’m freaky?” Haechan busted out laughing. 

“I don’t but guys hate when their masculinity is threatened” You shrug.

“So what do you want to do after I close” 

“I don’t know, I told my parents I was staying over with a friend tonight. So I’m all yours”

“All mine? I like the sound of that” Haechan smirked leaning in “I live alone”

You gasp “How do you live alone?” 

“It’s a small place, I don’t have a relationship with my parents anymore” Haechan grabbed the keys to close the shop. “It’s not too far from here, only a five-minute walk” 

Entering Haechan's apartment, the reality of his living space matched his earlier description. It kind of reminded you of a college dorm. Only a small living area with his bed and a tiny hallway that leads to his bathroom. 

As you took in the surroundings, Haechan couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "I told you it was small," he remarked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "It's not the fanciest part of town, but it's affordable."

"It's nice!" you assured him, a genuine smile gracing your face.

Haechan, skeptical, teased, "You don't have to lie to me."

Your laughter filled the room. "I'm not lying! I was expecting much worse for a guy living alone." Your lighthearted comment elicited a chuckle from Haechan, getting rid of any lingering tension.

Looking around the compact space, you ask, "So, what do you want to do?"

"I was promised a kiss," Haechan said with a mischievous smirk.

Your laughter continued, but before you could respond, you felt his hand gently cup your face, pulling you into a kiss. This wasn't like the previous one in the cafeteria; it was more intense, and filled with passion.

As the kiss deepened, Haechan guided you backward until the back of your knees met his bed, causing you to gently fall onto it. Yet, he didn't break the kiss, instead, he adjusted his position to hover over you. Placing his knee between your legs, he elicited a soft moan from you. The sound only fueled Haechan's desire, and he broke the kiss momentarily, his gaze locking onto yours.

"You sound so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes fulled with desire. His fingers delicately traced the curve of your jawline, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations.

The air was charged with a blend of desire and anticipation as Haechan, deepening the kiss and found a comfortable position on top of you.

His hands, warm and assertive, traced subtle patterns along your sides, sending shivers down your spine. The small apartment seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you entangled in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss.

As the kiss continued to deepen, Haechan's movements became more deliberate. He pressed himself against you, and the warmth of his body radiated through the layers of clothing, intensifying the sensations.

The noisy world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the echo of shared breaths and the subtle noise of hearts beating together.

Breaking away from the kiss, Haechan's eyes held an unspoken question, seeking affirmation in the depths of your gaze. Without uttering a word, you nodded, granting permission.

Haechan's lips traced a path from your mouth, leaving a trail of lingering kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Each touch sent shivers through your body, awakening a heightened awareness of the closeness between you.

As Haechan's fingers delicately traced patterns on your skin, he whispered “God I can’t get enough of you”. 

“I need you inside of me right now” You moaned as he started to take your shirt off.

Your words seemed to ignite something in Haechan, his eyes darkening with desire. He gently removed your shirt, his touch making your skin tingle.

You felt Haechan’s warm breath against your skin as he buried his face in your breasts. The sensation of his lips approaching your skin caused you to gasp, and the sound fueled his desire. As his lips made contact with your nipple, you felt a wave of pleasure run through you.

“God, Haechan”

His lips found yours once again. The pleasure of his lips on yours left you intoxicated.The feeling of the soft sheets against your bare skin and the warmth of Haechan’s body made you feel safe, yet vulnerable. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his lips take your nipple in his mouth yet again, and the pleasure and excitement was overwhelming. The intensity of the sensations had left you without words, and you felt yourself wanting to scream with pleasure.

“G-God”

The moan that escaped from your lips seemed to ignite something in Haechan, and he moved his mouth to your other breast, leaving a trail of hot kisses. Each one caused you to gasp with pleasure and your hands explored the his back from under his shirt. The pleasure and excitement was too much, and you needed him inside you, but he kept teasing you in different ways.

When he finally moved to kiss you again, his hands gently moved down your body to rest on your waist. He seemed to be asking if it was okay to continue, and you nodded, silent. His hands moved to take off your pants, and you felt your heart start to race. 

His touch was gentle and soft, and his lips were warm against your skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against you. The feeling of his skin against yours was intoxicating. As his hands kept tracing patterns across your skin. As his lips reached your thighs, you moaned with pleasure, begging for more

"Please..." you moaned, "I need you inside me."

Haechan looked up and gave you a mischievous grin, and his body tensed for a moment before he moved to undress himself. His movements left you breathless, and you stared at him as he removed his pants. The light of the room glinted off of his skin, and you felt your body start to quiver with anticipation.

His eyes seemed to penetrate you as he looked at you, as if he could see things you didn't want anyone to know about. There was a moment of silence as the two of you stared at each other, before he moved over you and hovered on top of you. The moment was perfect, the way his body molded to yours.

His lips found yours once again, and the kiss started off soft but eventually deepened. The intensity of the moment was something you had never experienced before, and your body felt on fire as his hands explored your skin. As his fingers traced patterns on your skin, you felt more and more aroused, and you moaned with pleasure as his fingers moved down across your sensitive skin to your underwear.

As you felt his fingers graze across your most sensitive parts, you gasped with pleasure, and Haechan smiled

“you’re hands please, i just need something inside of me” you begged.

Haechan smirked as he continued to tease you over your underwear. “then we have to get rid of these”

He slowly removed them before stuffing them into his nightstand.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as Haechan's fingers continued to tease you over your underwear. Your body throbbed with need, and you couldn't help but beg for more. The anticipation was driving you wild, and you craved the touch of his hands inside of you.

"Please, Haechan," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside me."

Haechan's smirk widened, his eyes darkening with desire. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, reveling in every moment of your vulnerability. Without a word, he slowly removed your underwear and discarded it into the nightstand.

The cool air caressed your exposed flesh, making you shudder in anticipation. Haechan positioned himself between your thighs, his gaze intense and hungry. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he hovered over you, his breath mingling with yours.

His lips crashed onto yours once again, this time with an even fiercer hunger. The kiss was bruising, and passionate, as if he wanted to consume every ounce of your being. His hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every touch sent electric shocks through you, heightening your desire.

But Haechan was not one to rush. He knew the power of anticipation. His fingers danced along the curves of your thighs. You squirmed beneath his touch, unable to suppress the moans that escaped your lips.

"Patience," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with a raw sensuality that made your heart race. "I want to savor every moment."

His words only fueled the fire within you, igniting a primal need that consumed your thoughts. You could no longer wait, your body aching and yearning for release. With desperate boldness, you reached for him and pulled him closer. Haechan's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire as you guided his hand to where you needed him most.

Without hesitation, his fingers slipped between your slick folds, finding your throbbing core. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You arched your back, giving him better access as he explored every inch of you, driving you to the edge.

As his fingers moved in delicious circles, your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his breathless whispers in your ear. It was as if time had stopped, leaving only the two of you.

Haechan's lips found yours once again, muffling the cry that escaped from deep within you as he brushed against your most sensitive spot. Your body shook with pleasure.

Every stroke sent shockwaves coursing through your body, building the pleasure to an unbearable peak. Your hips instinctively rose to meet his ministrations, wanting to feel even closer to him. The room seemed to spin as you felt your orgasm start to wash over you.

Haechan's fingers quickened their pace, pushing you further. With a sudden burst of overwhelming pleasure, your climax finally crashed over you. Your body shuddered beneath Haechan's touch as waves of intense bliss radiated from your core. It was an explosion of ecstasy that left.

As you finally started to get all your senses back you quickly reached out to Haechan. "Let me make you feel good too"

Haechan's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he chuckled nervously, avoiding your gaze. "I-I get pleasure just from giving you pleasure," he stuttered.

The corners of your lips turned up in a sly smile as you teasingly asked, "Did you cum in your pants?"

In response, Haechan groaned and buried his face on your neck. "You just sounded so beautiful, I couldn't resist," he admitted shamefully.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of desire and amusement at his confession. Pulling away from him, you leaned into captured his lips with yours. "That's incredibly hot," you muttered against his mouth before breaking into a giggle.

"Alright," you said with a mischievous glint in your eye, "let's get cleaned up...and maybe we can find a way to get out of those pants too."

In the morning, you felt the warmth of hands around your body. With a content smile, you turned around to find Haechan already awake, looking at you. "Good morning, beautiful."

"How long have you been awake?" you inquired.

"Not too long, I didn't want to wake you up" he replied.

Leaning in to plant a morning kiss on Haechan's lips, you were halted midway. "I messed up," he confessed.

Shocked, you asked, "What do you mean?"

"I slept with my only friend," he admitted.

A chuckle escaped you. "Well, if you play your cards right, you might end up with a girlfriend instead."

He chuckled at your response, pulling you in for another kiss

As the soft morning light streamed through the curtains, the intimacy between you and Haechan deepened. The laughter from the lighthearted exchange lingered as he pressed his lips against yours.

Breaking the kiss, Haechan looked into your eyes with a mix of affection and sincerity. "I'm serious, though. I don't want this to change things between us."

You traced your fingers gently along his cheek, reassuringly. "Haechan, it doesn't change anything. We both have our pasts, and what matters is what we have now."

A grateful smile played on his lips as he held you close, appreciating the comfort of the moment. "You're amazing, you know that?"

The tenderness in his words made your heart flutter. "You're not too bad yourself," you teased, your fingers intertwining with his.

Your mother has noticed a change in your demeanor, catching glimpses of smiles and laughter while you were on your phone. Initially, you tried to dismiss it, claiming it was just conversations with friends, but the façade crumbled when your mother overheard you on a Facetime call, and she didn't recognize the voice. Peeking into your room she also didn’t notice the face on the screen.

Now, you found yourself anxiously anticipating how your parents would react to meeting Haechan for the first time. Your mother insisted on the introduction, pointing out that you had never appeared as happy with your previous partners. Which you had to give it to her, it was true. 

While you were confident your mother would adore Haechan, your concern was with your father. He was often distant, engrossed in his role as the owner of a major technology company. His strict views on your relationships were rooted in a desire to maintain a family business, yet he doubted your ability to contribute to it.

Hoping your father would be too occupied to attend dinner wasn't far-fetched, he frequently skipped family gatherings. However, your mother's pleas for him to take a rare evening off for his "precious" daughter won him over.

When you first brought it up with Haechan he was terrified. Always saying he was too busy to meet them.

But you finally caught him. He was complaining that he hasn't seen you in some time and that he misses you. So you asked if he was free later. Implying something sexual so he would change his plans if he needed to. When he took the bait and said he would be free all weekend, you told him to get ready to meet your parents. 

As the doorbell rang, you rushed to answer it before anyone else could. "You look so handsome," you cooed, admiring Haechan in a suit that, while not perfectly fitted, he still made it look good.

Haechan, in turn, was taken aback by your appearance. Clad in a baby pink puffy spring dress with pearl accessories, you radiated elegance. The elaborate outfit was your response to your father's decision to turn a family dinner into a business-oriented event.

Warned in advance, Haechan contemplated rescheduling, but your disappointment look and tears swayed him. 

"I can't do this," he admitted.

"Yes, you can. It's okay," you reassured him, leading him toward the dining room.

As the evening unfolded, Haechan appeared more nervous than usual. Sensing his discomfort, you offered solace by whispering in his ear, "We can go to my room after we finish dinner." This seemed to ease his tension, evident in the subtle relaxation of his shoulders.

Upon entering the dining room, you wore a big smile, catching your mother's approving gaze. "Ah, this must be Haechan! I've heard great things about you," she greeted warmly.

"I've heard a lot about you too, Ms. [Last Name]," Haechan replied.

The initial interactions went smoothly. Haechan answered a few questions from your mother, and the room dissolved into various conversations. However, your father remained engrossed in discussions with his employees, seemingly oblivious to Haechan's presence.

Sensing Haechan's ongoing nervousness, you discreetly held his hand under the table. "You're doing amazing, we can sneak out soon."

As if on cue, your father redirected his attention to Haechan, acknowledging his presence. "How rude of me! I haven't even spoken to my daughter's new boyfriend," he announced. "So, what is it your parents do for a living?"

Haechan hesitated before revealing, "Well, they don't do much anymore. I work at a convenience store to pay for my apartment."

Your father raised an eyebrow. "Already working for yourself, impressive. Do you do anything else in your free time?"

Releasing the breath of air you were holding in, you smile. This was a small victory, your father rarely asked the guys you brought over questions. Not even caring for your friends. Remembering the time Jeno once threw up in your bathroom from how your father kept ignoring him. 

"My father taught me how to code when I was younger," Haechan disclosed.

"That's impressive," your father acknowledged, swirling his wine before taking a sip. "What's your surname? You look familiar."

Haechan gulped before confessing, "Lee."

A collective widening of eyes among your father's employees followed, and your father smirked. "I knew you looked familiar, Lee Donghyuck."

Confusion furrowed your eyebrows. You expected Haechan to correct your father, but instead, he flinched and looked at you.

"I'm guessing you lied to my daughter?" your father quipped. "What was the name you came up with again? Haechan."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and to salvage any remaining dignity, you stood up and hurriedly left the room.

Your mother exchanged a glance with Haechan before whispering something to him. He excused himself from the table and followed you.

You slammed the door shut, intending to cry alone. However, Haechan entered the room moments later.

"Please let me explain first," Haechan begged, attempting to pull you in an embrace, but you resisted.

"What is there to explain? Have you been lying to me this whole time?"

"No, God, no! Yes, my name is Donghyuck.. Haechan is just a nickname," he clarified. "My dad worked at your father's company, coding for years until he was fired. They wanted someone younger."

He gently held your face in his hands, "At first, I hated you. But when I saw you tearing up and running to the  janitor's closet, it made my heart hurt, so I had to follow you."

"I told you my name was Haechan because that's what I go by in school. I wouldn't have gotten the scholarship if they knew who I was related to. Your father basically runs this town! I had to!"

"I swear I was going to tell you, but then I started developing feelings for you. I couldn't risk it! This is the best thing to ever happen to me, you're the best thing to ever happen to me!"

As you stood there, emotions swirling within you, you listened to Haechan's explanation. His vulnerability and genuine regret were evident in every word.

A mixture of anger, confusion, and empathy danced on the surface of your emotions. "Haechan, why didn't you trust me enough to tell me the truth?" you asked, your voice a blend of hurt and frustration.

his eyes pleading for understanding. "I wanted to, but the fear of losing you, or jeopardizing everything we had, it paralyzed me. I never meant to lie to you. I just didn't know how to tell you."

You took a deep breath, attempting to collect your thoughts. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow, but his honesty and the vulnerability in his eyes struck a chord. "You should have trusted me, Haechan. Relationships are built on trust, not on secrets and lies."

He nodded, remorse written across his features. "I know, and I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, and I understand if you can't forgive me."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of everything hanging in the air. You finally spoke, "I need time to process this. It's not just about the lie but the fact that you felt you had to hide something from me. Trust is something we'll need to work on."

Haechan nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it takes time.”

“I love you, and I'll always be honest with you from now on," he promised, enfolding you in a tight embrace.

Your body resisted at first, still in shock of everything that just happened, but you eventually gave in, wrapping your arms around him. The familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his embrace made you realize how much you loved him despite the lies. 

You looked him in his eyes, studying his face before slowly letting your body finally connect your lips to his. 

Haechan’s kiss was soft and gentle at first, but it quickly grew in intensity as the passion between the two of you grew. You felt his hands on your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

Despite the initial shock and hurt, you found yourself unable to resist Haechan’s touch, his lips, the way he made you feel. You knew trust would take time to build, but right now, you couldn't resist the heat between the two of you.

Haechan’s hands moved up to your hair, tangling in the strands as he deepened the kiss even further. “Donghyuck” You moaned softly, unable to control the pleasure that coursed through you.

“I love the way you moan my name” he growled

As the kiss came to an end, you were both left breathless, panting from the intensity of the moment. You looked up into Donghyuck’s eyes, seeing the love and desire there, and you couldn't help but smile. “I love you so much” he whispered

"I love you too,"

Your eyes met his and your lips curved into a smile. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked

"For loving me enough to tell me the truth," you responded.

“I will never hurt you again”

You stared silently, soaking in his presence, and a moment later, a small smile stretched across your lips. Donghyuck pulled you in for another heated kiss causing you to let out a small moan before pulling away slightly. 

“You promise?” voice still shaky from the kiss.

Donghyuck grinned, his hands moved to your waist. There was a brief moment of discomfort as he lifted you onto your bed, but your objection was quickly silenced once you regained your balance.

You couldn't help but giggle at the boyish grin on Donghyck’s face as he looked at you from between your legs.

“I promise” he spoke as his hands traced the edges of your panties underneath your dress, teasing you and leaving you desperate for more.

A mischievous grin spread across Donghyuck’s face as he slowly began to slide your panties down, revealing more and more of your skin. You bit your lip, enjoying the sensation as he removed the final bit of fabric.

Donghyuck’s hands quickly moved to hook your legs around his waist, and you felt his fingers move towards your wet core. He teased you for a few minutes before moving his fingers up your slit, one finger brushing against your clit.

You moaned softly, biting your lip as you tried to keep yourself from making too much noise. You couldn’t help yourself though, the sensation overwhelming you as he began to circle your clit.

The sensation was so intense you couldn’t help but squirm beneath Donghyuck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your clothed stomach. His fingers slowed and he looked up at you. “Shh…” he whispered, lowering his head to your chest, kissing your exposed skin as you tried to regain control of yourself.

For a few moments you could barely breathe, light kisses upon your skin driving you wild. You could feel his cock pressed against your leg, and could tell it was straining against his pants. 

“You are so gorgeous,” Donghyuck spoke softly as he moved up your body. His lips pressed against yours, his fingers teasing your clit as he moved his hand away.

Your lips were breathing heavily against his, your hips bucked as you felt him tease your clit again. You began to breathe hard, hot breaths gusting between your lips and his. "I love you” he repeated as his lips moved to your neck. He bit your neck, his lips sucking just hard enough to leave a mark.

You moaned softly as you moved your hands to his pants, fumbling with the button before pulling them and his underwear down so he could step out of them.

You felt his cock pressed against your skin, and you couldn’t help but reach out for it. You could feel his shaft pulsating against your hand as you stroked it.

Donghyuck let out a small grunt, his hips bucking into your hand as you teased the head of his cock. “goddamn” he moaned as you pulled him closer.

“I want you inside me. You could feel his shaft twitch in your hand as you said the words, your fingers tightening around the shaft as you moved to stand in front of him.

You pulled your dress over your head, tossing it to the floor as you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. The garment fell to the ground, your breasts exposed to Donghyuck’s hungry gaze.

Donghyuck reached up, taking your breasts in his hands. He gently laid you back on the bed, his hands moving from your breasts to your hips. 

You waited with heavy breaths as he finished stripping down, your eyes eagerly scanning his chest and abdomen. Reaching for his cock again eager for him to be inside you. 

Donghyuck quickly shifted his hips, slowly sliding his cock inside you. You let out a soft moan as he slowly filled you up. He began thrusting slowly, his thrusts growing stronger and deeper.

He moaned loudly as he thrusts inside you, letting you slowly push against him. His thrusts were desperate.

As he felt his climax coming he reached down to grab your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The connection between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect sync. It was a dance of pleasure and desire, each movement bringing you closer to that sweet release.

As his thrusts became more urgent, his hips snapped against yours with a hunger that matched your own. The room filled with your moans and the rhythmic sound of skin slapping together. Time seemed to blur as the world around you vanished.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving red trails as he drove deeper into you. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you deeper into the abyss of ecstasy.

Donghyuck's breath grew ragged against your ear as he moved faster, chasing his climax with fervor. His grip on your hand tightened, his body trembling with anticipation.

You arched your back as you felt yourself approach climax, your hands gripping the sheets as you sought more friction. Donghyuck’s pace quickened, his cock sliding in and out of you as you felt your orgasm approach.

Your body tensed as you came closer and closer. You cried out, moaning his name as he kissed you. “Donghyuck!”

Donghyuck’s thrusts grew more and more erratic. He began to let out a series of moans as he continued to thrust. He groaned loudly, your walls tightening around his cock as he continued to thrust. You could feel his cock twitch as he came, his cum filling you up.

Donghyuck’s cock slid out of you as the two of you came down from your orgasm. You curled up against him, his arms wrapping around you as you kissed him. 

“I love you too.” you whispered, kissing his lips softly. You rested your head against his chest, and for the first time in a long time, you fell asleep without any worries.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Donghyuck stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He blinked sleepily and focused on the beautiful sight in front of him--your peaceful face, bathed in gentle morning light.

As he realized your arm was still snugly wrapped around him, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The night before had been filled with whispers, laughter, and tender kisses shared between you both. And in this quiet moment, as the world outside continued to awaken, Donghyuck felt an overwhelming sense of contentment.

Leaning in closer, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. His touch was feather-light, melting away any lingering traces of sleep from your mind. You stirred slightly, a drowsy smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him.

"Mmm, good morning," you murmured, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

"Good morning," Donghyuck replied, his voice low and husky.

His fingers gently traced the contours of your face, his touch so tender it sent shivers down your spine. As you peered into his eyes, you could see the love that radiated from within him. It was in those moments when the world was still and quiet, that you truly understood the depth of his affections. Donghyuck was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but in these stolen moments, he bared his soul to you.

taglist: @yesohhsehun @numberonekeehostan @rjreins @yutaswh0re @haechansbbg @fullsunahceah @sundamariis @sinsgaybutthatsokay @nae-vm @hcheach @snflwrhaerecs4u @jenodreamer @mystverse @lhcread @onlyoursol-ace @enchantingtreedrea @jaeimjaemin @justforme211 @jakejaehyun @nk-3554 @hyunniesvlog @bbyjayb @nodisdino @qwonii-111 @pwarkkjisung @wettestpoussy @bomi-ja

(srry if i forgot you or if it didnt tag you)

[sungbeam]

𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader

yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?

9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading

a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz

“I don't believe you.”

The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot. 

“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”

The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like. 

His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were. 

An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat. 

The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now. 

“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”

He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing. 

You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”

“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”

It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”

“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”

“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”

“I read shit.”

“Who doesn't?”

“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious. 

Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”

He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program. 

You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”

“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”

“I dunno, but it’s you.” 

He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”

Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in. 

Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere. 

“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”

“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”

“Well, yes!”

You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”

Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes. 

“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”

He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”

“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—

“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”

You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”

“You don't?” 

“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”

“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently. 

“That's even worse!”

He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”

You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”

“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”

That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”

You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”

He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”

Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”

“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.” 

You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder. 

The buzz was getting better. 

“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do. 

Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”

Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content. 

A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”

He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”

“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.

“Well, is it working?”

He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”

You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

“However you'd like them.”

You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”

He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”

“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise. 

“Okay, one, two, three—”

“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once. 

Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?

“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes. 

Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout. 

You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state. 

You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”

He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you. 

And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”

You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind. 

He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne. 

You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his. 

You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.

He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right. 

When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle. 

“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore. 

“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”

“Never in your life?”

“Never in my life.”

“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”

Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”

He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right? 

(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)

“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep. 

“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”

Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”

“Oh, was I?”

Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”

“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”

“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”

Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you. 

After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words. 

But how could he fucking forget your name? 

He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again. 

“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap. 

“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked. 

Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind. 

When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”

Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?

“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”

Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”

“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”

Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get. 

You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever. 

“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights. 

Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”

You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late. 

Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen. 

“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush. 

“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”

“Dompt shae it.”

“Yeosaaaang!” 

You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not. 

Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.

Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”

Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid. 

You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart? 

Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”

“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”

“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”

Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing. 

As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”

He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one. 

“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side. 

Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”

You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”

“She hooked up with Yeosang!”

You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”

Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”

“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”

“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”

“We did!” Reina chirped. 

“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party. 

Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”

“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”

You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”

“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”

“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”

You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown. 

“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged. 

Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles. 

You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach. 

“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off. 

“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. 

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”

When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”

Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”

“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”

Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”

You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”

“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone. 

Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone. 

But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you. 

Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity. 

His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”

“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”

Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”

Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”

“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing. 

“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side. 

His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?

For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—

“Gotcha.” 

Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”. 

“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense. 

His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button. 

It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it. 

Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you. 

“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment. 

Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—

He figured it out. 

@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?

Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen. 

@/studioyn: sunny side up

Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”

“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed. 

Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job. 

@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!

@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh

@/yskang99: i like that better actually

@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao

Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily. 

@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨

For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy. 

@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk 

@/yskang99: would that matter?

@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r

@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/ 

He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you. 

@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)

A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course. 

He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.

Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week. 

@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?

@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat

@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?

The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled. 

@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u

@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))

@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far? 

Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you. 

“Yn! We're gonna be late!” 

You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips. 

Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”

You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone. 

The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it. 

As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together. 

“What?” You blinked over at her innocently. 

“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night. 

You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said. 

“Right. He's your man.”

You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina. 

God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker. 

At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday. 

Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you. 

“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”

Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd. 

@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!

“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear. 

You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”

@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??

@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x

You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand. 

The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway. 

Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together). 

When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den. 

“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice. 

“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw. 

You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang. 

“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty. 

You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”

“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face. 

You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”

“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”

“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”

He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”

“Reina,” your friend replied. 

“Yn,” you added on. 

Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”

Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—

“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”

He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’

Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”

“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”

“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”

You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”

She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”

“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”

There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her. 

But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed. 

“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash. 

She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”

You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang. 

Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed. 

Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would… 

Oh. 

Well, now you just felt stupid. 

Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”

“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk. 

“You're thinking that you're stupid.” 

“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”

Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”

“But that was Yura, right?”

She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”

“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with. 

“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”

You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”

“I'm not sure, hon.” 

You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter. 

You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts. 

The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place. 

You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless. 

“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him. 

She held your spiked juice while you texted him. 

As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.

If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about. 

Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder. 

On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—

You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music. 

“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”

“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?

Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?

“Where is he?” You asked. 

It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms. 

You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart. 

Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly. 

“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions. 

“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”

Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”

It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.

He was waiting for you to finish. 

You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”

You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”

He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”

“She…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”

Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was. 

“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”

And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.” 

The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”

“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?” 

Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you. 

You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk. 

“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”

You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together. 

You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again. 

You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"

His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.

Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”

You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”

Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled. 

“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist. 

Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—

“You okay?” He mused. 

You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest. 

A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”

“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck. 

You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him. 

In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky. 

You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years. 

“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky. 

You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown. 

You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.” 

He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile. 

“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car. 

“Mhm?”

You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?” 

Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”

You blinked, lips parting. 

Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”

Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with. 

“I'm sure you don't.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @synthwxve @empire-x @kflixnet @atzhouse @cromernet

[mikrokcsmos]

That That (I Like That)

synopsis; in which your boyfriend’s loud moans and groans wake you up from your sleep at 4 in the morning and you’re about ready to throw hands — and so is he, but for completely different reasons.

pairing; vlive!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

genre; twinge of angst, mainly fluff and humor, Weverse live au

rating; PG-13

warnings; the word damn (x2) and suggestive dialogue/themes, just boyfriend koo in all his glory tbh

w/c; 1,283

a/n; don’t mind the poor excuse of a banner I tried to make on my own. shout out to @sftk0o for the perfect icons 💕

You tried to ignore it, you really did; believing the first loud moan you heard was a part of the not so innocent dream you found yourself in that involved your boyfriend only moments ago. Eyelids closing as you relaxed your body once more, head snuggling back into your pillow to begin the descent back into said racy dreamland — only for it to be interrupted by a loud distanced slam, your body tensing in fear, heart racing.

“DAMN.” He grunted, no – moaned out loud, you picturing his face instantly – brows pinched in concentration and nose scrunched cutely, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. Can almost hear the low whine in your head that he always does just as he finishes—

Hands immediately searched the bed next to you for a warmth that was non-existent, all that greeted you being the cold fabric of the sheets that have been pulled back for quite some time it seemed. Another loud slam, accompanied by the same noticeable whine following not even a second later has you pushing yourself out of the bed, but this time not in fear, no.

This time it was because of pure and unadulterated anger.

Running on pure adrenaline, head in a fog and mind racing with worst case scenarios to what you’re about to witness has your bare feet bringing you closer and closer to where the noise continues to resonate from — the kitchen.

Just as you’re about to turn the corner, you freeze, hand on wall, a drawn out ‘damn’ piercing your ears that has your eyes welling with bitter tears on the verge of falling. Nails digging into the white of the wall, you push off, utilizing the momentum to push you the rest of the way into the kitchen and in full view of the sight in front of you.

Your voice dies in your throat, before it reaches your mouth, and you remain silent.

Jungkook has his head face down into the edge of the table, fists clenched on either side as his arms flex from the action. Quietly, you edge forward towards his hunched over form, eyes scanning the room around you for any other human other than yourself, and your body sags in relief as you start to piece together the cause of the grunts, moans, and curses.

Food. Fucking food. You should’ve known.

The aroma fills your nostrils, causing your own mouth to salivate and you weren’t even hungry. The smell of freshly sautéd chicken, scallions, and melted cheese wafts in the air along with the nutty flavors of sesame oil from the large skillet that still sits on the burner of the stove built into the table, most of its contents long gone. A bowl of microwaveable white rice sits next to a clenched fist, the other one now raised in the air as if preparing to strike someone, a spoon nestled in the last remnants.

Jungkook, still high off his food induced fever, pushes himself up to immediately unleash the finger guns of a choreo you know all too well at this point, his hips thrusting in time to the tune you have no doubt is engrained in his brain at this point as well as yours.

Despite your best efforts to remain as quiet as possible, you not missing the way his phone is suspiciously propped up against a stack of cookbooks neither of you have bothered opening yet that lets you know he’s currently live on Weverse, a puff of laughter from your lips causes him to pause mid hip thrust, wide doe eyes landing on your amused figure.

“The food was that good, hm?”

A sheepish, guilty grin is all you get in reply, his feet moving him towards you. When he’s close enough, his head dips down to brush a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Did I wake you?” He quietly questions, brows furrowed in worry when he notices the red that is prominent along your eye line. “Did you have a bad dream? Were you crying?”

The questions are in rapid succession, and you have to place the palms of your hands against his lightly stubbled chin, pressing his cheeks together and making his lips pucker at you like a fish to get him to stop talking long enough for you to explain.

“Your wanton moans are what woke me up, made me think that there was—,” you trail off, voice barely a whisper. “—other activities taking place in here that didn’t involve eating food.”

The sharp intake of breath he does let’s you know he understands the hidden meaning behind your words, his hands coming up to pull yours off of his face, and bring your body flush against his. A frown is now prominent on his usually smiling lips.

“Baby, I hope you know I would never cheat on you. Especially not in our house, and in our kitchen. This—,” his large hands trail down your sides, leaving nothing but warmth in their wake. “—is all I’ll ever want or need. You are it for me, jagi.”

A heat makes it’s way up your neck and to your cheeks, his words warming your heart and the inner guilt that festers within you unraveling.

As you stare into his brown eyes, you see nothing but truth and love, nothing but future and promise.

“I know. Im sorry for even allowing the thought to cross my mind. It was stupid of me to think. Besides, I don’t think I have to worry about any person stealing you away from me.” Your fingers interlock behind his neck, arms hanging loosely around his neck. “Food on the other hand? Now that’s what I should be concerned of. That chicken had you making noises I only ever heard you make in the bedroom.”

His head drops into the crook of your neck as he lets out an embarrassed whine, warm breath and lips that brush against your collarbone making goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shiver. His arms circle your waist in a vice grip as his upper body relaxes against your shorter one.

“Sleepy, baby?”

“Mhm. ‘m tired.” He mumbles into your skin sleepily, voice laced with a newfound exhaustion due to his full and satiated belly.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Yep, just gotta turn the live off first.”

“Jeon Jungkook, you and your random late night lives will literally be the death of you.”

He reluctantly straightens up, arms leaving your body to stretch up into the air above his head as he lets out a loud yawn.

“No, they won’t, baby.”

“Need I remind you of the candle incident?”

Eyes squinting at you, tongue in cheek, he remains silent and you know you’ve won this round.

“I’ll be waiting in bed, don’t take too long, okay?”

You take a step back as he takes a step forward, lips chasing yours for a quick, yet equally as lingering kiss that makes your breath catch in your lungs. Noses touching, he whispers so only you can hear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, and your foodgasms.”

You snicker and turn to make a fast getaway, his fingertips only having enough time to graze the swole of your ass as you skip away from him and disappear around the corner until you’re out of sight.

It only takes five minutes for his sock clad feet to slide into the entrance of your room, and two seconds for his body to land on yours as you erupt into a fit of laughter on your shared bed that turns into soft sighs, grunts and moans that you know is because of you this time.

[sammylkcho]

I read the request where the reader is Sebastian spouse hear me out though what if the reader said oh you sound like my husband but they don't recognize him since he's a fish and they show off the ring hear me out

Oh god, this was requested almost two weeks ago… I’m SO SORRY for the wait dear anom!

I gotta say, I wrote this and I’m not thrilled with the final result,sorry if it sucks..

Warnings/Notes: small angst, mentions of hallucinations but nothing real, signs of a growing anxiety attack, anxiety overwhelming the poor reader

Original request

"The name’s Sebastian, remember?" it reminded you of its name, sensing a hidden plea in its tone.

"… Yes, Sebastian." You repeated its name, finding it strange to utter the name of your deceased husband. It had been a long time since you said his name, and it felt good to say it; it brought you a kind of comfort for a few seconds.

You rubbed the back of your neck for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as the growing anxiety and discomfort began to take hold.

You felt the bluish gaze of the "creature" (you hated calling it that, but you didn’t know exactly how to categorize it) piercing into your soul, as if it were searching for something, analyzing every piece to ensure not a single detail was missed. It was strange, both having it in front of you and being alone together.

When had your companions left? You didn’t know, and it probably wasn’t worth knowing; they had likely abandoned you since you were holding them back and had been a burden to them.

Those thoughts pulled you away from reality, making you completely forget Sebastian's presence and how intimidating he was with his great height.

He could tell that you were no longer grounded, having always known the times when your thoughts swallowed you alive due to your anxiety and the “what-ifs.” It was one of the first things he learned about you as he got to know you.

Both of you had questions about each other. Especially him, who knew it was you despite how disheveled and tired you looked, but in your case, you still didn’t know that the person in front of you was the same one you’d considered dead for the past 12 years.

How had you ended up here? Had you been blamed for a crime that wasn’t yours? Just as they had likely done to him?

Those thoughts made Sebastian’s blood boil. He felt so powerless for not having been able to do anything to prevent you from coming to a place like this, for having to suffer the consequences of someone else. So many things he regretted, even though only a few minutes had passed since your presence appeared before him like an angel.

There were so many things yet so little he could do.

His goal now would be to try to make you realize that it was him and not just a simple coincidence in appearance and voice.

He would make you realize and know that it was him; Sebastian Solace, your husband.

He clicked his tongue loudly to catch your attention (which he succeeded in doing with the sudden noise) and thus fulfill the objective he had in mind.

"Want to take a look? Got some things you might find useful on your endeavor." He asked you with a tone that would be too unusual for any expendable that had passed through his shop. That sarcastic, humorous, and hateful tone was always present in him, but with you, there was a hint of sweetness.

"Eh.. Sure." You responded, somewhat bewildered. Your feet carried you automatically to his tail once more, looking among the few items left on the straps he had tied along his tail.

You felt his gaze on you once again; this time, you didn’t try to find a reason or what he was trying to see or accomplish by looking at you. The sensation was uncomfortable yet comforting. Strange.

"Anything that catches your eye?" he asked you again, offering a smile filled with sharp teeth like those of a shark. A chill ran down your body from head to toe, as the more you looked, the sharper they seemed.

"You sound like my husband." You said abruptly, without having processed the words that had already slipped past your tongue.

You realized what you had said just before a wave of shame and melancholy completely invaded your body. You hadn’t wanted to say that, much less mention the fact that you had referred to your deceased husband. DEAD.

How was it possible that you saw your husband reflected in that person (fish)? It was utterly embarrassing, surely, for having made a comparison with someone he didn’t even know, he would bring you to a certain death or something even worse-

"What a coincidence, babe." He interrupted your line of thought, pulling your attention back to him.

Sebastian only called you that way when he was joking with you.

Your eyes moved to the ring that seemed to shine faintly in the soft light filling the room, noticing it had vague lines and curves that seemed to form something. It was eerily similar to your ring—the same one you had placed on Sebastian's finger, and he had placed on yours on your wedding day.

Why did the universe want to torture you like this?

He was dead; you had to accept it. He wasn’t in that same room with you, and much less alive. He wasn’t—

"What was your name again?" Your mouth betrayed you once more, speaking words that hadn’t even been approved by your mind. All of this was wrong, very wrong.

"Sebastian," he said, revealing more of the ring that had caught your attention. "Sebastian Solace."

After those words, the world seemed to stop for a few moments. The only sound you could hear was your own breathing, which was growing increasingly erratic. Denying to yourself that this all had to be a mere coincidence, a cruel trick of your mind, the accumulated stress seemed to be taking its toll, or perhaps the many sleepless hours and the insomnia had led to hallucinations.

The strong stench of fish and sea salt invaded your nostrils, forcing you to focus on what was right in front of you.

It was him; he wasn’t overstepping or invading your boundaries, always respecting them to have a signal or confirmation that he could proceed.

"You're dead…" you said in a low, broken voice, not noticing when you had started to cry.

"Yeah… you could say that, but you revived a part of me when you came here."

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Familiar face

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Franco one-shot, if you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

What happens when you can't get your ex out of your head, even worse what happens when you stumble into him at the club

It feels like the universe has a cruel sense of humor. Ever since Franco's move to F1, his face has become impossible to escape. It’s there on billboards, interviews, and splashed across social media feeds. The once subtle ache of his absence has sharpened into a dull, constant thrum of irritation. It’s maddening—how someone who once belonged to your past can suddenly become omnipresent, invading your carefully constructed world.

Tonight, you’re out with your friends, the music pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat as you try to lose yourself in the pulsing lights and laughter. The topic turns to Franco, as it so often does these days. “Did you know he’s back in town?” someone says, their eyes lighting up with gossip. “Spending time with his family. He’s probably coming here tonight.”

Your stomach clenches, a mix of annoyance and something more insidious. You hate that he still has this effect on you, that his name alone can send a rush of memories through your mind—the good ones, the tangled limbs and shared laughter; the bad ones, sharp words and the silence that followed. You roll your eyes and laugh it off, masking the way your pulse has quickened.

But as the night deepens and the club grows wilder, you find yourself scanning the crowd more often. Just in case. You catch a glimpse of familiar hazel eyes from across the room, and your breath stutters. He’s here. And he’s looking right at you, that smirk that once made your heart race now taunting you from a distance.

He makes his way over, effortlessly weaving through the crowd, and your friends exchange knowing glances before fading into the sea of dancers, leaving you alone with him. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he says, his voice deep and familiar, edged with something teasing.

“I could say the same, Franco,” you respond, your tone laced with sarcasm. You want to play it cool, but the heat in his gaze is disarming, pulling you back into a shared past neither of you has fully let go of.

“Aún tan guapa como siempre,” he says, his eyes sweeping over you with that infuriatingly charming smile. “¿Sabías que he estado pensando en ti?”

Still as beautiful as ever. Did you know I've been thinking about you?

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve been too busy with your new glamorous life to think about anything else,” you shoot back, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

“Nunca tan ocupado como para olvidarme de ti,” he counters, stepping closer so you can smell the familiar hint of his cologne. His voice drops, a playful challenge sparking in his eyes. “Dime, ¿todavía piensas en nosotros?”

Never too busy to forget about you. Tell me, do you still think about us?

Your heart hammers in your chest as you try to keep your composure. “No seas tan presumido, Franco,” you reply, forcing a laugh. “You’re not that unforgettable.”

Don't be so arrogant, Franco.

He chuckles, the sound low and knowing. “Ay, ¿así que no me extrañas ni un poquito?” His fingers lightly brush your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

So you don't even miss me a little bit?

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” you say, but your voice lacks conviction. The space between you feels charged, every shared look and teasing smile fanning the flame of old memories.

“Mentira,” he whispers, leaning in so only you can hear. “Siempre fuiste mala para mentir.”

Lie, you've always been a bad liar

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“De ti, sí,” he replies, his eyes searching yours. “Por ejemplo, sé que tu corazón está latiendo rápido ahora mismo.”

Of you I do, for instance, I know your heart is beating faster right now

“Confident, aren’t you?” You arch an eyebrow, trying to regain the upper hand, but the way his gaze holds yours makes it difficult.

“Sólo cuando estoy contigo,” he admits, his tone softening, laced with sincerity. “Desde que me fui, no ha pasado un día en que no pensara en ti.”

Only when I'm with you. Since I left there hasn't been a single day that I haven't thought of you

The weight of his words makes your breath catch, the noise of the club fading into a dull roar. His eyes search yours for the briefest second before he closes the distance, his lips crashing into yours with a fierce intensity that steals the air from your lungs.

The kiss is searing, demanding, as if making up for all the lost time, the missed moments, and the longing that never quite left either of you. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies, the heat radiating off him igniting a fire that spreads through you. Your fingers slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low growl from him. The world around you blurs and spins, but you don’t care—not when he kisses you like this, as if he’s afraid to ever let go again.

In this moment, nothing else matters—not the fame, the distance, or the questions that will come later. It’s just the two of you, reclaiming everything unsaid in a way that words never could.

[blackjackkent]

@astreamofstars suggested my next dive into the parsed dialogue files should be looking at the various Vicious Mockery lines available for player characters, and the ways the different companion character VAs speak them. This turned out to be quite challenging, as there are a LOT of them!

There are a total of 97 unique Vicious Mockery lines, each of which was recorded by all ten companion character VAs PLUS all twelve custom character VAs, for a total of 2,134 recorded lines, which is wild. (This is not including Ethel's 60 unique Vicious Mockery lines as well, which brings the total to 2,194.)

In this video, I've collected all 97 VM lines across all ten companion VAs, along with notes (where applicable) on things like

references to Shakespeare (or other pieces of media)

places where BG3 continues a time-honored tradition of the series by butchering archaic English grammar

interesting inconsistencies between the VAs or with the written dialogue

(If you notice any references I missed, please let me know and I might edit the video! :D )

In making this video, I ended up listening to all these lines a LOT, and I do love that some definite patterns emerge which are very on-brand for the characters in question.

Astarion often sounds deeply disdainful and at times almost bored. He barrels through some of the lines as if he doesn't think the recipient of his insult is even worth his time. (Also him calling someone a "parchment-pallored villain" is a bit rich, don't you think? :P )

Gale is deeply pleased with his own cleverness and laughs at his own jokes.

In my opinion, Dave Jones by far most Understood The Assignment; Halsin bellows out the lines like a Shakespearean actor playing to the back row and really relishes the language.

Jaheira is in full mother-tiger voice and clearly ready to kick ass and take names; she's not messing around. (With one exception - I have been laughing over Tracy Wiles's reading of "Mouthier than an arse, twice as full o' shite" for the entire duration of this project, because solely for that line she sounds like she's been possessed by some unknown force and is utterly baffled by the words coming out of her own mouth.)

Karlach reads most of these lines as either battle-cry or schoolyard taunt and seems utterly delighted in both cases. I enjoy that she adds a fun roll on her r's to sound all mockingly fancy.

Lae'zel generally sounds like she's about to rip someone's throat out and often seems completely oblivious to the humor involved, even on lines like the delightful pun, "As the leg, you'll end in defeat."

Minsc definitely doesn't know what most of these words mean but he makes up for it in enthusiasm. I enjoy that "Mouthier than an arse" becomes "mouthier than a butt" only for him. XD

Minthara, like Lae'zel, is mostly not coming at this from a place of amusement; she's MAD. She sounds like a judge handing down sentence in the most disdainful manner possible. (That said, she has my favorite deliveries on some of the lines with timing-related humor: "Thou art saucy... as gruel," "Thine eyes! Pools of tepid piss," "Like a summer's day... thou art sweaty," etc.)

Shadowheart just sounds deeply offended that her target is existing anywhere near her. She's practically spitting on all her plosive consonants and it's delightful.

Wyll sounds remarkably fierce given how nice a dude he is, but a lot of his lines have some righteous indignation (appropriate for a former noble and the Blade of Frontiers) - or he just sounds like he pities his opponent. His reading of "It vexes me to know of you" is my favorite of the whole cast; he just sounds so disbelieving of his target's stupidity.

Overall I think my favorite of these lines is towards the end: "Your body's a temple - to an idiot god!" All ten companions really stick the landing on that one. :D

Thanks for watching! Hope you enjoy.

(Got requests for other investigations into BG3 dialogue? Drop me an ask and let me know! )

[alwaysshallow]

single mom x price; PART 2

AO3 VERSION

part one || part three || part four

“Please. Be good, alright?”

You look down at your son. He holds his bear close to his chest; defensive, as you sense—you almost sigh at this view. He’s in a bad moment. The moment where he needs no one, but his mom and the cuddles that you normally would give him, if the nanny wouldn’t be on her way.

And it’s his favorite nanny.

You’re reluctant to let him stay in the house, considering not only his humor, but the earlier tantrum that he gave you. Something between “you’re the worst mother ever”—which only gives you an eye roll, but it’s a potential theme for a cry session later on—and “i don’t want anyone else but you”.

Normally, you’d call your mother that loves him to the core, but given that she’s in Hawaii, not really reachable for you and possibly not in the mood to listen to your problems. She only wants to do it when she’s bored, and if she can give you her “golden advice” without a chance of being cut off by you putting a phone away because she crossed a line.

Which happened too many times in the past, since she just absolutely adored engaging in your life. Reminding you every time that you are responsible for the position you found yourself in and the only thing that could possibly save you is listening to her. Marrying the man that she gets to pick.

Because the mother knows best, as she always says.

The irony of beefing with your son is irritating for you too; especially that you need a nanny for an hour, maybe a little more because you need to go to the town meeting. You could skip it, sure, but it’s like skipping an opportunity; and who knows what will happen. Maybe you’ll get around doing something that will bring money, if they will talk about the spring festival.

Last year you got yourself quite a deal, so the thought is exciting enough for you.

The possibility of meeting John is thrilling, too, even if you don’t want to admit it directly. Everything about this man is electric, enticing enough for you to barely be able to think around him. Something is tingling in your chest, when you think about it. He’s acclimatizing well enough in town too, as you learned—and the town meeting is a good chance to see with whom he’s close.

Animal in a zoo, it would be a good comparison, even if it seems cruel for some reason because John is anything but it.

You get to leave the house after five minutes of talking with your nanny. She’s like an angel, considering that she convinced you to leave, telling you that she’s gonna do alright with your son and his tantrums aren’t really the worst thing that happened in her career.

Which, oddly enough, you believe, without even knowing the details.

You sit in the second row at the meeting. Arms crossed, maybe a little defensive, but you’re not opposed to talking with people that sit near you. They show you photos, talk about their family, ask kindly about yours, until someone mentions a husband when you tell them about a situation from days ago.

Normally, you’d probably make a snarky remark about their comment, saying something how rude it is to point to someone that they need a man, when your point isn’t missing someone to help you around.

That’s normally, if your ears wouldn’t catch that voice. The voice that’s hard to forget even if you’d desperately try to do it. Deep, drawing attention to the owner immediately, like a moth to a flame because the desire to look is impossible to resist. Everyone knows that the appearance does the magic, but if the voice is attractive, most likely is the one who has it.

And that’s exactly John Price.

You observe him only with a corner of your eye, assured that if you’re gonna glance at him once then he’s gonna know where you are. It’s like the seventh sense of his, probably acquired after his job, at least you think that’s the case.

You don’t need that. What you actually want, need, is a small dose of mystery that you currently have without him knowing you’re here.

Maybe that’s not fair, but you don’t care.

He talks mostly with guys from the local workshop; they vigorously explain something to him and he nods. Listens, then responds in such a different mannerism that they represent. Calmer, more stoic, yet it can’t be mistaken with indifference. He’s just… thinking type, you assume. The one who calculates before taking any action.

Wise man, so to speak.

Besides the boring stuff at the community meeting, there’s just one thing that could potentially interest you in—competition for the best garden in town. It has everyone gossiping there and there in a deep hope, or strategies what to do to earn a win; mostly those successful, straight out of family movie moms, ideal moms who are doing everything for their families. Chit-chatter about flowers, techniques and stuff disrupts everything enough to make a meeting come to an end. There’s no point in continuing, when no one listens.

You aren’t even considering the competition, but it gets you enough to think of renovating your garden. Forgotten long ago, as it needed too much work when you had a small kid; right now, when your son is six, there’s way more opportunities for you to actually try to tend it. Who knows, maybe spring is the best time for that.

“So. Gonna snatch that first place reward?” You almost jump, when you feel a hand on your hip. Light touch, but waking you up from your thoughts enough to acknowledge how tender it is. Allowing you to back off easily, if you’d feel like it’s too much.

But you know who this is. And you somehow know that it’s not too much.

“I wish,” you laugh dryly, looking finally at John. He arches an eyebrow, then proceeds to walk back to back with you, no hesitation in his moves whatsoever. “Not really a gardener. Besides, knowing how my garden looks right now… Not really a chance, no.”

There’s a second of silence. “Could help you with that,” he says, fixing his shirt; you give him a quick glance. His outfit isn't really different from the other times. Simple flannel, worn out jeans, combat boots and this well-known, plastered smile into his lips. Charming and dangerous, you think. “I have time, if you really want it.”

You clear your throat, conflicted. Do you really care that much about possibly winning a contest? Maybe John’s help would really do wonders, considering that he already helped a lot of people in the neighborhood; with success that didn’t take much time, as you know.

Kind, nice, doesn’t want anything else in return; could work for you for free. You’re 99% sure that you would bake him a pie or something anyway, but the thought you wouldn’t have trouble with payment is nice enough.

“Maybe. I need to think about it.” He raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods his head in an understanding manner.

“We’ll exchange numbers, then. It’ll be easier,” John announces, giving you his phone. You look at him, dumbstruck—it wasn’t exactly your plan to do this.

“I don’t— Well, I don’t think it’s necessary—”

He barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Nonsense. Come on.” Price smiles; like an angel, truly. Angel in a disguise of a tempting devil because you enter your number into his contacts, even if you wanted to keep it as a secret a little bit more. “Wasn’t so hard, was it? Didn’t think I’m some kind of a creep, did you?”

Your face flushes with pure red, when he implies that. “No! No. I’m just… I don’t use a phone often,” you croak. White lie that don't really need much explanation from you.

“That right,” he muses, possibly amused with your hurried talk. “I’ll call you in a few, then.”

He sticks to his promise, as you learn over the next few days.

The thing is: you don’t pick up.

It’s not like you do it on purpose. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when you see a few missed calls on the phone, the moment you come back from the grocery store. Or, when you’re out in the garden with your kid, planning how it’s gonna change in the future because you’re just taken-aback by how bad it looks. Like it’s not your garden.

Maybe the problem is your lack of courage to call him, too. It would take one click and you’d be done with the task, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to it. Mixed feelings and the “I can take care of anything” mindset doesn’t help you much.

It feels like a reminder to call back, when you see John outside. He’s in the middle of a discussion with some teenagers that were screaming earlier, disrupting the precious night silence. You thank him in mind that you don’t have to do it—as you got up from bed only for this—you just observe everything behind your window, wrapped in a fluffy robe. You can’t miss the drama, even if it means that you’ll lose a few minutes of your sleep.

Your humor gets better automatically, as you even laugh at how disappointed they seem, going straight up to their homes.

And then, you cross gazes with him.

There’s a faint smile from John. He raises his hand, greeting you, so you do the same. However, the difference in moves is clear. John does it slowly, you almost rush to do it and disappear into your bedroom, so he won’t get an idea that you’re up for a talk.

Because you’re not. You’re too tired to do that, to talk with a man that makes a pretty mess in your head every time you’re around him. And, you’re way too ashamed to do that when he called you multiple times and you haven’t answered even a single one of it.

Some part of you wants to give in and text him right after you see him, but you let this idea flow by. You’re gonna text him at the right moment, you think. The middle of the day, or when you’re gonna see that he works over something, so he won’t be able to read it right away.

You forget about your declaration soon enough. Way too caught up with balancing between home, work and school, you don’t quite realize that the longer you’ll extend the whole thing, the longer it will be over your head.

On Monday, you’re reminded. At first, you don’t really acknowledge it, too irritated that you can’t move your car because someone decided to park behind you, blocking your way. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is your son that does not really care what’s going on. He just sits in the back, playing with his toys, unbothered.

The realization of whose car it is, overwhelms you completely in one moment. You know whose car it is. It’s hard not to, really, when you think about it: there’s only one pick up truck around. The neighborhood is full with families that prefer—most definitely—a car more efficient, a car that has more seats because that’s the only way everyone will fit and ride for football games and all that shit.

The thought you have to ask him out of all people, gives you a migraine.

It’s an awkward thought; the way you have to say something. You haven’t returned any of his calls, treating him like some one night stand (even if it wasn’t the case because you never slept together), and now you want him to move his car. Theoretically speaking, he should do it without even thinking twice.

You can’t help but wonder though, if he’s even gonna acknowledge your plea, given you ignored the shit out of him.

Rude, you think. You’re rude and you did nothing about the calls. About the proposition. You totally ignored John Price, and now you’re embarrassed because you have to ask him something. Maybe if you’d think of calling him back, you wouldn’t even be stressed about this situation. Quick text to him, and there he is, moving his car.

In another lifetime, though. In this, you have to do something else.

After you tell your kid you’re gonna be back in a second, you decide to test your luck and jog into his house, just a few meters away, knocking with a whole monologue in your head. How you need him to move your car because your kid needs to go to school. How you need it to go to the grocery store, you even think of giving him an excuse that you need to go to your mom, even if it’s a straight up lie.

You don’t have to wait long. Door swings open a few seconds later and you can see John, a little bit sleepy and confused—possibly because no one normally wants to see someone at seven in the morning.

He speaks before you have a chance to do it. “So eager to apologize, eh?”

It takes you a few seconds before you stare into his eyes, instead of his chest. “Excuse me?” You blink several times. It’s not like you didn’t understand what he said, it’s just his body that you pay too much attention to. He has no shirt on himself, his sweats low on his hips. Tempting.

You do not look lower than that, for the sake of your sanity. No time for fantasies—and it seems like he knows what you’re thinking, as he smirks with that annoying smugness that he has.

“You haven’t returned my calls,” he says, voice low. Might be the consequence of just waking up, but you think of it as seductive. You’re not gonna rub it into his face though, when he literally has the upper hand in this situation. Wouldn’t be smart. “Thought you’re here ‘cause of it.”

You clear your throat. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. “Yeah. We’ll talk about this later, but could you—”

“Why?” John tilts his head. It doesn’t help your case in any way. “We have time, you came here early. Might as well—”

“There’s… a lot going on,” you blurt out, interrupting. You don’t really know if he believes you or not, but he certainly is interested in why. So, before he has the chance to say that, you speak up again, "And you have to move your car first.”

“A lot? You know that I offered to help if something’s too much, right?”

You forget how to breathe for a minute. His tone is hard, a sheer contrast to playful John that was here just a minute ago. Not quite scary, since it doesn’t even sound like a threat, but it is a reminder. Urgent one. “I know, but—"

“None of that. If you need something, you call me.”

“Right now, I need you to fix your car.” Comes out a little bit aggressive. It has Price raising an eyebrow.

“My car seems perfectly good, why would I do that?" John leans against the door frame, looking down at you. You're pretty sure you've never felt smaller than you do now.

Using his advantage to intimidate you is smart. Something that he’s gonna do, if you’re gonna show him that you’re weak for it.

You cough. Trying to be civil here is a necessity, you think. Especially if you actively ignored him before. "Thing is, you blocked my car," you try to explain—calmly, before you run away from him; you even point at your red Mazda, a late birthday gift from your grandfather. "I have to… drive my son to his school."

"I did?" he raises his eyebrow. For a minute, his eyes are off you, attention on the parking lot, trying to search for the problem. Then, he looks at you again. "Mm. Seems perfectly fine to me, love.”

Love. He does it to annoy you, that’s the only reason why he’s so unfazed. Or, he’s trying to achieve something different, but for now, you can’t think straight when this man—half naked man, to be exact—blocks your car’s way, looking good.

Too good.

“I can’t move in any way. You’re… too close.”

“Too close? Could say this sooner—”

“—too close with your car, I mean,” you add, weakly. Price has you stepping on your tiptoes, so careful with picking your words. Precise what you mean because if you’re not gonna do it, he could take advantage and change the meaning.

He chuckles, his smile widening. If he’d be anyone else, you’d think that is a predator move. “Makin’ you all nervous and stressed. Why? Am I this scary, love?”

Again. Again this pet name.

“Just— Can you, please, move your car?” you ask, massaging your temples. He makes you weak in the knees and irritated at the same time; you don’t even acknowledge the steps forward that he makes.

He gets your attention the moment he tips your chin up. This feeling itself is making your stomach jump; skin sizzles with that specific need, deep in your heart that you rather not admit, but it is there. It is there, and John makes it difficult not to melt into a puddle in his hands. Ridiculously warm hands on your skin, to add.

The comfort he brings wraps around you tight like a blanket in particularly cold mornings. Important, needed even, especially in fragile moments. You almost forgot how it feels.

“What car is it? Red mazda?” He breaks eye contact with you for a second to glance once again at the parking lot.

“Yeah.”

He locks his eyes with you again. “Oh, honey. Should say that sooner”

There’s a storm happening inside your head; a strange type of deja vu falls on you like a tsunami wave; unexpected and cruel in some way. Did you not tell him what car is it? That's why he acted funny, so cocky, not taking you seriously? You’re sure you pointed in the right direction, even if you didn’t tell him what car it was. He looked here.

Or maybe he didn't? Why would he lie, though? You might as well be tired, you think. It’s not easy to be a single mom, to balance everything out.

Right?

Storm inside your head makes you ignore the warm feeling in your stomach, when John guides you to the parking lot with his big hand on the small of your back.

“I'm sorry.”

"It's okay. Nothing, really," you gulp. "You're new here, so you might not know my car."

Even if you’re sure you pointed him the direction of it.

“Could know better,” he hums, caressing your clothed skin. Tenderly, afraid to break you in any means. “So, so sorry. Really. And look, now because of me you have to put up with being late. Came home later than usual… If I saw all of that, I’d find a different spot.”

You smile a little, pleased with his explanation. There’s nothing wrong in your mind about this situation, nothing that could indicate that he’s lying. Even if he’s a little too close for comfort, you think it’s because that’s who he is.

He moves his car quickly, while you talk to your kid; he almost didn’t notice your disappearance, too interested in his toys. Even if you want desperately to listen, your brain is too occupied with the previous situation, with Price looking so good without a shirt.

Your son tells you about the “drama” between the elephant and monkey when John comes back into the picture, right before you are about to reverse.

“Everythin’ good now? Nothing else to take care of?”

“Everything’s alright.” You give him another smile. “Thank you, John.”

“No problem.” He glances at your kid, then, back at you. “We’ll have to talk later. About the garden.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll have to.”

[porcupine-girl]

I realize that I am preaching to the choir here, given that I actually have NOT seen any of this going around on Tumblr. But just in case it's here and I've just missed it:

DO NOT MAKE FUCKING CAT-EATING MEMES. I KNOW YOU THINK YOU'RE MAKING FUN OF TRUMP, BUT YOU'RE NOT.

The thing is, 90% of the memes and jokes I've seen about this don't specify in any way whatsoever that they are making fun of Trump/Vance/people who believe that it's happening. They're just "haha eating cats funny" - which, guess who else would make that exact same joke? People who believe that immigrants are eating cats and are making fun of the immigrants for it!

Almost all of the memes I've seen shared by people on the left, I have to wonder if they were originally made by people on the right. I hear people talk about wearing "cat-eating shirts" to the polls since they can't wear Harris/Walz shirts, and I'm like... won't the other side do that too? Do you not see how the exact same thing is funny to them, but for completely opposite reasons? Vance even outright said he wants to see more memes, whether or not it's true.

And if you share these memes, they will assume you agree with them. Have you ever wondered how MAGAs could possibly believe that over half the country agrees with them? Well, when it looks for all the world like everyone else is also laughing at those stupid immigrants who steal people's pets, it's not hard for them to assume that those people laughing at immigrants are on their side.

This isn't the first time this has happened, either. Right after Epstein's suicide, some guy was being interviewed on the news about something unrelated and right at the end threw in something like "Epstein didn't kill himself" or something, and people on the left thought it was hilarious and amazing and shared it all over the place.

Except. That guy? He thought CLINTON killed Epstein, not Trump. THAT was his point, THAT was the joke he was making. But the left caused his video to rack up the views and shares, so now he thinks everyone else also thinks Clinton did it. And the same for all the other Epstein jokes that didn't specify who you thought actually had him killed. I definitely saw ones that got used by both sides unironically.

Please think a little bit when it comes to political humor. Could someone on the opposite end of the spectrum from you look at the joke or meme you're posting and think that it's aimed at them? Like, no matter how obvious you think it is who the real target is intended to be, could someone possibly misconstrue the target to be someone on your side?

[dearanakin]

good partner

Summary: You get a call from Sam asking to help him and Bucky find the Super Soldiers, and get Zemo out of prison. You're still not done with your mission, but the former Winter Soldier doesn't like the idea of you around. This is mostly based on episode 4 of the show, "The Whole World is Watching". I wanted to write something light but you can request a smut.

Warning: Angst, mentions of The Winter Soldier, fluff | Word count: 4k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

A loud thud echoed through the loft as Zemo hit his back against the hard floor. You stomped your foot on his chest and heard him grunt against gritted teeth.

"I'm in this case as well. You're just a rat who got lucky from getting out of a cell" You spat out. Both Sam and Bucky trying hard not to snort.

The baron still kept his gaze at you, holding your foot so tight you almost stumbled. He got up on his foot and wrapped a hand around your bicep.

"Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage. I can't trust you" He locked his eyes on yours and squeezed his fingers on your skin.

You let out a dry scoff. They should've let him die in that prison. Behind your back, Sam was about to step in. Zemo had shifted his demeanor to a cold look. "You let them do it. Stay out of it".

"And who are you to say shit about what I should or should not do?" Raising your voice, he didn't flinch.

The man pointed a finger at you as a warning, still holding his damn tea cup. Only a slight second later, Bucky shattered the glass against the wall and pulled him by his collar.

"You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?" The soldier asked him. He tightened his metal wrist and you could see his shoulder grow wide.

Sam stood next to him, resting a hand on his forearm. "Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing".

Bucky still had him in his grip. Zemo didn't hold any expression, otherwise. It was infuriating. "You want some cherry blossom tea?"

You watched as the taller man twisted his collar. "You fucking touch her again, I'll break your neck". He shoved the baron backward and left the living room.

You were surprised, to say the least. Bucky was annoyed you were on this mission with them. He thought you were actually missing a few points and messing with their plan.

But much to his dismay, Sam agreed to have you on board and didn't complain about your work. Said his partner was just being grumpy.

The former Winter Soldier was leaning against the countertop, his hands gripping tightly against the edge. You offered a glass of water, which he denied.

The Falcon was somewhere else making a call, which left you alone with an irritated soldier and a trash bag of an ex-prisoner.

"Don't let him get through your head" You whispered, standing close to Bucky. He didn't look back at you. "It's what he likes to do. Ever since the last time you engaged".

He gulped harshly, it was back when he was being accused of planning a bombing in Vienna. And then, when he was held hostage in Germany, where Zemo broke him and brought Winter Soldier back.

"I don't like him either. But it's easier if we just ignore" You tried to humor him, but he still wasn't in the mood for interaction.

"Would that work if I ignored you as well?" Bucky lifted his eyes to meet yours. He had a stupid faux grin on his face.

As soon as he didn't get a response, he walked past you and made his way back to follow Sam, leaving you alone with Zemo.

~~

You're all gathered around as The Falcon goes through the plan again. Refusing to tag along with Zemo, you had to agree and make Bucky company.

They tracked Karli Morgenthau to a memorial service. But John Walker and his partner figured out the exact same plan. All you wanted to do was get all the serum back.

That is, if you didn't run into the shittiest Captain America while you and Bucky walked up the alley. You could literally hear him tightening his fists, his metal arm already functioning.

"Ah! How’d you find us now?" The soldier carried an unamused tone in his voice. You watched as John and his partner got closer to you both.

"You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?" He wasn't wrong, but you knew Bucky was past that now.

The Captain motioned his head towards you, measuring you from head to toe. "New Avenger?"

You snorted out loud and cracked a laugh. Your stomach was starting to cramp and the soldier next to you watched as John held a confused look.

"She's just a partner" He shrugged. "Sam asked for her help".

"Yeah, but not just a partner. So you better not step foot on our plans" Bucky knows how much of a menace you are.

He can't disagree with the fact that you can actually start a fight with the wrong people and not fear them.

John snorted and you narrowed your eyes at him. "Yeah, right. You wanna meet Karli, there will be civilians there. There's a high risk of casualties".

"No one's asking for your opinion, Cap. Sam is gonna talk to her and reason her" You tried to face him, but his demeanor didn't go down on you.

"She blew up a fucking building with people in it. If he's in there alone with a Super Soldier, he's getting himself killed".

Bucky rolled his eyes. "He's dealt with worse".

You were waiting inside the building while Sam tried to convince Karli. John couldn't stop pacing back and forth, even Zemo seemed annoyed already.

He started complaining about how dangerous it was, but the soldier next to you made sure it hadn't even been ten minutes yet.

Already done with his bullshit, you shifted on your foot. Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. You weren't supposed to be there in the first place. He knows you're highly qualified and if shit went down you'd protect yourself.

And even though he's still pissed you're there, he can't wrap his head around the fact that this could be really dangerous for you.

John almost towered over Bucky, he was deadpanning at the Captain. "This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins".

"Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?" He tried getting into his head, but the man next to you did nothing but chuckle.

"You really don't know Sam, do you?" You chimed in and watched as John narrowed his eyes at you. "You come in here parading this new shield which, by the way, doesn't fucking belong to you and you want to dictate shit?"

By this point, he really wishes he could hit a woman. Bucky notices how John moves his body and tries to face you, but he doesn't let him.

"You better keep your distance" He warned the Captain, who took a few steps back and raised his hands in surrender.

John didn't wait five more minutes and decided to intervene in their conversation. Karli was fast enough and knocked them down before running away. You couldn't find her in the maze, but Zemo made sure to destroy the serums she had. Or he thought so.

~~

Back in the loft, the German man was lying on the couch with a soft fabric covering his eyes. He was talking about how Super Soldiers weren't allowed to exist.

In gets Bucky as he sighs before taking his jacket off. You couldn't take your eyes off his firm body, his strong arms, and perfectly shaped abs.

You were sitting opposite to him as he was on his back, just staring at his entire body. He poured a glass of whiskey before speaking up about his suspicions about John.

"Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy" He says as he rests his lips on the rim of the glass.

"Good thing you recognize that" You let out a laugh, and he snaps his eyes at you.

Bucky rolls his eyes and speaks through the glass. "You should have a look in the mirror".

You're taken aback by his response and open your mouth, ready for retaliation, but he speaks up again. "Shouldn't have given him the shield".

Sam stood next to him and pointed a finger, but you defended him. "He didn't give it".

You're sitting on the couch with your arms crossed against your chest. The former Winter Soldier walks toward you before crouching in front of you.

"Steve definitely didn't. And you're past the point of giving an opinion here. I said this mission wasn't for you".

He was too annoyed today, that's for sure. But that didn't give him the right to be a brat with you all the time. And you should ignore him, but the bickering gets him all the time.

You lift your torso and fill the gap between your faces. His brows are furrowed. "You don't get to say what I should or should not do".

The staring lingers for a while until the new captain barges into the loft asking for you all to turn Zemo over.

"Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today" Sam walks over to him.

John tries to tease your friend before the Wakandans enter the loft. They peacefully ask to turn Zemo as well, but a fight bursts in the room.

You run towards the corner of the room behind a pillar, while the wakandan knocks the captain and his friend down. The other three men are standing there, watching him get beat up with amused looks on their faces.

"Looking strong, John" Bucky teases and you snort loudly. He snaps his head your way and grins.

The soldier tries reasoning with Ayo, but she pulls herself away from him and continues to fight against John and his partner. Both him and Sam are too busy to notice that Zemo is trying to get away.

You run after him and hold the door knobs before he can lock himself. "Where the hell you think you're going?"

"Let go, or I'll shoot you" He warns, but you paid no mind. Only then, he gripped his gun quickly before shoving you backward, locking himself.

You looked over your shoulders and watched as Bucky was kneeling on the floor, grabbing his metal arm.

"Shit" You mutter and rush to him. "Everything okay?"

He carried a different look for a slight second, almost vulnerable. He reattached his arm back. Bucky looked at you and nodded. You grabbed his limb and carefully inspected it.

"Did you know they could do that?" He was still glancing down at you. His blue eyes were soft and light. He shook his head and clanked his arm.

Later on, Zemo was still nowhere near to be found, while Sam and Bucky were pissed they missed him.

"How could you not hold him back?" Your friend was messaging a few people he knew might know about him.

"I tried. He pointed a fucking gun to my head" You snapped.

The other man sat next to you on the stool by the countertop. He let out a sharp inhale. "Was it even loaded? He could've just tricked you".

"How the fuck would I know?" Your face was millimeters away from his once again. Your breath was fanning his face and you watched as he tightened his jaw.

"Know why I hate this fucking plan? Because you had one job today and you couldn't even do it" You closed your fists and clicked your jaw at his words.

"As much as I know Sam would bow down to you and say you're a great partner. I beg to differ" He got from his seat and walked with his heavy boots against the floor toward the couch.

Your voice cut through the air with bitterness and you immediately regretted it. "Sometimes you're no different from the Winter Soldier".

He stopped his tracks and spun around. Quickly, Bucky captured your face with his metal hand and squeezed your cheeks, making you pout.

"What the fuck did you just say?" His forehead was brushing yours and you could see rage in his eyes.

"Let go of her. She's just disappointed" Sam gave you a cold look before handling his partner. He grabbed Bucky by the shoulder before the man shoved your face.

You were sitting alone in the loft during the night, trying to book a flight home. Obviously, your plan to help with the mission became a disaster, nonetheless, from the beginning you knew Bucky didn't agree on this.

He thought you couldn't keep up with the plan and he was right. You were making things worse at this point. You wanted to help them, you tracked the Super Soldiers and you helped with Zemo, but that was just it.

Now you're debating whether you should just go without warning or not. Sam is going to be pissed at the end of it. He knows you're better than that, and after what you told Bucky there's no way you can face him again.

Your friend watched you from the corner of the hallway. He knows you're hurting from what happened, you wouldn't snap like that if his partner didn't push you. Sam talked to him, but he was too angry to actually forgive you.

He didn't blame him either.

"Hey, you going to sleep or what?" Sam asked as soon as he dropped his weight on the couch next to you. He peeked through your screen and saw it. "Woah, you're not leaving right? This isn't over. I still need you. We need to find Zemo".

"You can do that without me. You did it before. Besides, he's out there because of me. And Bucky is tired of my face".

He closed your laptop, and you glanced at him. "I can do it, but I don't want to. S'why I reached out to you. And we're gonna find him, he needs us too".

"And Bucky... I think it's just his sexual frustration talking" He laughed as you gasped at his words.

"Sam, what the fuck?"

"Dude doesn't even go on dates, he's probably nervous having a woman around. He's always been grumpy, I think it's in his nature. He'll come around at some point" He grinned at you.

"That's not my problem. He keeps pushing me, I'll fight back" You didn't need to look at him to see he was definitely enjoying the playfulness.

"You guys should just have sex. This is so annoying" Sam grabbed his phone as you choked on your own spit.

"For the love of God, drop this conversation before I snap at you too".

He handed the phone to you, saying Karli was threatening his sister and his nephews. She wants to find him, alone.

He has other plans, of course. But you can't even think about accepting the idea before Bucky gets to talk.

"He doesn't need to know. I'll go with him, you meet us there".

~~

You watched as he and Bucky fought the Super Soldiers along with John and his partner. They were beating each other up relentlessly.

One of them pulled a pocket knife and tried stabbing Bucky and you gasped. He shielded himself, dropping the object close to their face.

He had a snapped cut on his nose, and his jaw was split up. His knuckles were bloody red. Sam was in better shape than his friend, though.

You were shocked when you saw John's partner sitting unconscious on the floor. The captain rushed to him, too desperate to make any sense.

You pulled Bucky and Sam away and ran out of the building. "We gotta get the hell out of here now. He's gonna kill the kid" Your hands were shaking, and you almost tripped on your foot.

"Hey, woah. What are you doing here?" Bucky stopped in his tracks, looking back.

"Let's argue later, dipshit" Sam shouted at the soldier as you kept running.

In the loft, you asked Bucky to sit on the stool as you worked on his injuries. Starting on his nose, he hissed at the contact with the wet cloth.

"Keep steady, crybaby" You whispered and he looked up at you.

You cleaned the dried blood from his face and managed to apply some saline solution. The entire time, he kept his gaze on you. He noticed how focused you were on his injuries and how gently you managed it.

He held his hands up as you cleaned up his knuckles. They were red from all the punching, and it surprised you how he was still human besides the serum.

You squeeze his hands lightly, too embarrassed to look back at him before apologizing. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. It was a really shitty thing to say, and you don't deserve it. I was an asshole".

Bucky trailed his eyes to scan your face. He had a peaceful look. "I shouldn't have pushed you either. I was just annoyed Sam brought someone up to this mess".

"I accepted it. There's no right or wrong, I wanted to help". You were both still brushing your fingertips against each other.

"You're not bad after all" He mused and you chuckled. "I just- I don't think I can keep losing people".

You saw his raw personality right in front of you. That man who kept his serious and defensive demeanor was showing his true self. It was hard to miss it.

Your hand grasped his jawline, carefully rubbing his skin. He almost faltered. "That won't happen. I got two Avengers to protect me".

He snorted, showing his teeth when he laughed. "Should've seen that coming".

"And more than anyone else, you deserve that happiness. You just need to stop lying about your nightmares".

"How do you-" He was about to ask and you tilt your head.

"Sam and I talk. I know it's hard to erase the past. But you're James again, you're you" Your other hand is still holding him tightly.

Bucky refuses to look at you for a moment. And when he does, his eyes are glassy. "It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me".

You smack your lips. "You need to stop thinking you're making amends. You need to give them closure, be of service for them. Stop thinking like you still owe them just an apology".

He drops his head and bites his lip. You hold his chin up and force him to look at you. "You're not that guy anymore".

You were about to get closer for the hundredth time. Maybe close the gap between you and pull him in for a kiss. Not because you feel bad for him, for his past. But because you feel warmth when you're close to him.

You feel like he could hold the world above your head and fight for you.

That was when his phone started ringing. John killed that kid out of revenge.

~~

You finally meet Sam's sister, Sarah, after he invites you and Bucky home to help him fix his boat. A lot of their neighbors are also helping. There's a gathering with food and drinks by the lake, and every kid is excited to see the soldier. They're all lining up to hang up on his metal arm.

You're watching in the distance as he and Sarah chat about something, while two kids hang themselves on his limb. He seems lighter, happy even.

He has a different look on his face. Especially after Sam finally decided to become who he was supposed to be.

Bucky walks toward you holding two cans of beer in his hand. "You want one?"

He holds one out for you, and you accept it.

"The kids love you, you know?" You speak after sipping on your drink.

"What can I say? I'm pretty charming" He leans against the wall next to you, watching as the sun sets. There's a hue of orange in the sky.

"They only like you because of your arm. Don't get too cocky" You shove him by the arm playfully and he holds your hand for leverage.

Bucky pulls you closer to his body, his chest is heaving against yours. He's taller, so he has to look down at you.

"So you don't think I'm charming?" His words are too soft, but his grip on your waist is almost tight.

"I didn't say that" You smirk and he uses his other hand to rub the pad of his thumb on your lower lip.

The moment you felt his skin against yours, it felt like everything slowed down. Even though he was desperate to finally give you the kiss he'd been wishing for, it was obvious he was too nervous.

Sam's words lingered in your head. He was definitely in need of dates and he refused to accept it. Whatever changed his mind made you realize he had a soft spot for you.

That's what made you take the first step. You finally closed the distance and crashed your lips against his. It tasted like beer. The tiniest movement of your tongue had him groaning in the back of his throat and it almost made you smile.

He slid his tongue against yours and tilted his head for better access. He wished he wasn't holding a beer right now because all he wanted to do was cradle your face and pull you in for a deeper kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and Bucky faltered as you grasped his lip between your teeth. Both tongues were fighting for dominance and you shivered.

The fresh taste of beer in your mouth made his heart flutter inside his chest. His heart was racing and pounding against his ribcage and he felt like the air got knocked out of his lungs.

You both had to pull out for air, his hand not leaving your body for a second. Resting your forehead against his, you watched as he kept his eyes closed.

"I'm glad you're happier now. I can see it right through you"

"Someone gave me a nudge. And Sam is a great friend, much to my disappointment" He joked, giving your lips a chaste peck.

"He said some pretty nasty things about you the other day" You laughed as he displayed a surprised look on his face.

"Oh, he's a dead man".

"Hmm, he might be right" You sipped on your beer, watching as Bucky placed a hand on his hip.

"What was it about?" The soldier mirrored you with his beer.

Getting closer to his face, you spoke against his lips. Voice low and teasing "You'll have to find out".

You gasped as he pulled you harder against his body and kissed you again. This time, it had a different impact, he was rough and needy.

A growth beneath you brushed against your body, and you chuckled between the kiss. Bucky had to pull away from you. He lowered his head and shook it.

"I might know what he meant" He barely had time to laugh as you pulled him in for another kiss.

You didn't even have time to tell Sam goodbye. Next thing you know, you were both in his hotel room, filling the air with a lot of passion and moaning.

You woke up the next day with a weight on you. His metal arm was spread above your body.

Jesus, they needed to get blackout curtains in the bedrooms. You slightly opened one of your eyes and peeked through your lashes as you saw Bucky peacefully sleeping close to you.

A smile escaped from your lips at the thought of the previous night.

Happiness crossed your mind when you cradled his face and traced his jawline. He was definitely happy. And hopefully, soon, the nightmares would go away.

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈𝐈

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, Aegon II is creepy

Notes: someone told me they were waiting for part 2  🥹 btw I hate the show's timeline as a book reader because it makes absolutely no sense and I can't write properly, halfway through this I literally have decided to throw it away and run with what my heart tells me, otherwise I'll combust

>When your father came back from the war of the stepstones in 115 a.c, newly wed to Laena Velaryon, you didn't think anything was going to change, right?

>You missed the Vale, you didn't like seeing your father and Rhea fighting, but she was so kind, just like your wet nurse, she wasn't here in the castle either

>But there was a lot of new people here, and you liked them all, since they're all your family, it is only natural you'd love them all, they often say they love you too

>When the news of Rhea's death and Daemon's nuptials came, almost arriving together, it sparked a sense of empathy and compassion throughout the red keep

>All of the Targaryens were already too "heedful" with your care, declaring you'd be cared for only by family, and in the extraordinary case no one was around, there was two very meticulously chosen handmaidens who were to watch over you until a family member was available

>This measure was whispered from Otto Hightower to king Viserys, this passed as a safety measure, saying that because of your origins, you were at risk, setting the infamous "princess of Flea Bottom" title as precedent to say you were not welcomed by everyone, and therefore in danger (even if everyone who was even rumoured to be against your stay in the castle, had already been "taken care of"). Of course no one objected

>This reawoke an old rivalry between Rhaenyra and Alicent, old playmates with unspoken grudges, now desperate to prove they could be a better, more adequate influence in your life

>Willfully ignoring your young age, and the fact you'll likely forget half of whatever they say by the time you're ten, what matter is that even when Daemon takes you away, you'll be able to remember one of them with particular fondness

>It was the truth, a hard and bitter truth, that you'd have to eventually leave, everyone looking for excuses to give to Daemon once he arrived, in order to keep you around longer, maybe indefinitely

>Alicent felt uneasy when thinking of stealing you away from your sire, as much as she disliked Daemon, and believed you'd be much better off being raised as hers, along with her children, you clearly loved him, you drew pictures and saved "treasures" to give to him once he returned

>You also used to ask about Rhea, no one had the heart to tell you, but still fearing the crude words your father would use to tell you of her passing, after all, Rhea was still "his bronze bitch". Finally, it was Viserys who had to break the news to you, he was considerate and comforting, even explaining how his parents and former wife passed away as well, and how he still carries them in his heart

>You lacked the proper cognitive development to fully process it, but it made you sad you were never to see Rhea again, this made you even closer to Viserys

>Alicent wondered if there was a possibility of offering one of his son's hands, if that would make you stay, she certainly wouldn't be displeased to have as a daughter in law, Rhaenyra did the same, after all, wasn't the heir to the iron throne a much better match?

>But the day finally came, where you had to leave

>Your father forsook his crown as King of the narrow sea to Viserys, who humorously put the crown on your little head, and named you princess of the narrow sea

>With the crown falling to your forehead due to its size, you hugged your father as soon as you saw him, with giggles and words of affection, as much as it endeared them, it broke everyone's heart to remember how your time in the red keep was nothing but extraordinary. Viserys thanked the seven no one could hear his thoughts, it would be improper for a king to wish for war, just to keep his baby niece around

>This moment created a long string of creative bards singing about Y/N Targaryen, princess of the narrow sea, queen of hearts

>It was finally time for you to go to leave, Laena was ecstatic to take you with her after meeting you for the first time, but she was a smart girl and noticed she was taking away something very precious

>But celebrations had passed and it was time to go

>You lived in Pentos for the next 10 years of your life, with your father, step-mother and little sisters, Rhaena and Baela

>Daemon was not so happy to take you to King's Landing for different events, however, Laena said it was good for you to be around your cousins and nephews, good for the twins as well

>And she said that since you had your own dragon, it's best to just, it'd be better for you to not feel trapped, otherwise one day you'll just get on dragonback and do as you please

>Daemon did not like the idea of you ever leaving or having enough independence to just hop on a dragon and leave, but he understood his wife was right

>When Laena lightheartedly told the prince of Pentos that he must only ask if he wished to marry one of the girls, Daemon grimaced in his classic unsubtle fashion

>You and your sisters were excitedly ogling the new dragon egg that was meant for your sibling

>One night, Rhaena came to your room looking for comfort, she feared her new little brother or sister would have a great dragon like Vhagar, or swift as Moondancer and then she'd be left alone

>You had Dagahrion, and Baela had Moondancer, both dragons were bonded with you since birth, but Rhaena's died shortly after hatching. She was given another egg, that sadly had not even hatched

>According to the dragonkeepers, Dagahrion still needed a little more time before you could safely ride, and Moondancer had a long way to go.

>Dagahrion and Moondancer were polar opposites, where Moondancer was small, slender and agile, with lightly coloured pale sage green scales and pearl horns, Dagahrion was growing larger by the day, heavy and mighty, with black scales that shone like a green tourmaline in the sun, and dark laurel colored horns. The dragons would often play together, and were called "the greyhound and the mastiff"

>Rhaena feared her bond with you would be outshined by the future races and sky stunts you and Baela would share. And when Aemond took Vhagar, it felt even worse

>After Laena's death, you had lost a mother again. You deeply mourned her, but you felt a different kind of sadness watching Rhaenys coddle the girls in the funeral, and Corlys telling Lucerys he'd be the lord of Driftmark. Rhaenys had you on her embrace as well, but the looks on you had brought a bitter truth to your attention, one that was nonexistent in Pentos, and swept under the rug in King's Landing. You were a bastard. The whimsical melodies about the princess of the narrow sea, had made you forget the princess was born illegitimate

>You were now 13, and the stares and whispers your family shielded you from, were words much easier to put together, faces much easier to see

>The lords and ladies gossiped when everyone ran to hug you before the true orphans, you felt guilty

>"Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the coast" said Vaemon. You smiled through the pain

>Your father started laughing to try and shut him up, it worked

>It also pained you to reunite with your beloved playmates, and see Aegon, your azantys, who you admired, now turned into a creep. He hugged you longer than he did with anyone else, but his hands lingered in a way you couldn't enjoy

>Lucerys and Jacaerys were there with you and your sisters, just like you could see the look thrown at you, you could see them being thrown the way of the Velaryon brothers. You didn't talk much, but you enjoyed their company

>Aemond tried to latch onto you and take you to where his family was, but after some time you had to return to your sisters, he didn't like that

>Helaena was just like you remembered her, she was still ever so gentle and had so many things to tell you about her bugs

>But some of her words were now cryptic to you

>"My dear Y/N, dragon in the flesh, do not believe the dragons in thread" she kept repeating, not even looking at you

>You slept in the room that was meant for your father, he hadn't returned yet. You slept in the second bed in that room rather than with the other children, you wanted to cry, but wanted to appear strong for your sisters, so you preferred to be away for the night

>However, the ruckus woke you up, Aemond stole Vhagar, and Lucerys made him lose an eye

>Jacaerys told you about the "hilarious" time they gave Aemond a pig, you silently reprimanded them, you didn't find it funny, but to go and steal Rhaena's last connection to her mother?

>Vhagar was not a heirloom, not a thing, but Rhaena deserved a chance to try to tame her before others did

>You were upset, however tried to stay at Aemond's side, after all, he was the one who lost an eye

>At least until you heard your nephew. "He called us bastards", you looked at him with a sad, disappointed expression before completely (and literally) turning your back on him to go console your sisters

>Rhaena was the most affected, her connection to her late mother, and to her sisters, was stolen by Aemond. In the moment, she feared Aemond would steal you away too, you seemed to be fond of him, and the queen would often tell stories of how close you were with her children. Losing you to Baela was one thing, she was her twin, and you would be within reach, but Aemond?

>Aemond was true to his words when he said gaining a dragon was worth losing an eye

>But he wasn't so sure it was worth losing you