#n if i try to have an actual adult conversation about it he's just gonna talk circles around me til i'm dizzy again

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

haven't been sad like this in a long time

[dsireland86]

I have a very smutty request 🫣

Noah X Reader - they're best friends who tell each other everything. One night they're talking and she mentions whenever a guy gives her oral she can't finish. She doesn't know if the problem is her or the guys she's been with. Noah being a huge munch and helpful friend is like "let's find out" 😏

Oohhhh goodness me...... okay, here we go....

Let's Find Out

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet @kenjipepsi1 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard  @blackveilomens @chey-h

"Come on, y/n, you can tell me. We always tell each other everything." "No, you always tell me everything because you have no filter, Noah. I don't always tell you everything."

Noah sat next to you on the couch in your apartment, thinking and realizing after a moment how right you actually were.

"Ok, well, that's besides the point. Whatever it is, has got you all riled up. So, what is it?"

You were about to tell Noah, feeling bold enough to, but when you went to open your mouth, you couldn't, instead hiding your face in a pillow.

"I'm afraid to. I'm scared of what you'll think."

Noah was silent. Slowly, you pulled your face away from the pillow to look at him. He was staring at you with an amused look on his face.

"What?"

Noah scooted closer, turning his body to face you.

"It has something to do with sex, doesn't it?"

"Oh my god, Noah," you squealed, throwing the pillow at him.

Noah's laughter filled the room.

"It does! I knew it."

You folded your arms over your chest, pouting, while Noah gloated.

"Oh, come on, y/n lighten up. It's not like we're kids. We're grown adults."

Noah rubbed your arm, running a finger down your cheek, but instantly noticing your sadness.

"Hey, what is it? Come on, tell me. I don't like seeing you upset."

One look at Noah and those sweet, sympathetic eyes of his convinced you.

"Okay, fine, but promise me, please, that you won't think differently of me when I tell you."

Noah grinned but silently nodded.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a minute to process where to start.

"Okay, so you've had sex before, and so have I. Have you ever, you know," you trailed off to stare at your fingers.

"Have I ever what?" Noah asked, confused.

You ran your hands down your face, frustrated.

"Fuck it. Have you ever made a girl cum just from going down on her?"

You could feel the heat wash over your cheeks, as you watched Noah's eyes widen in surprise.

"Wow! That is not at all where I saw this conversation going," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"See, I knew it! I shouldn't have said anything." You jumped up off the couch, ready to run and hide from the embarrassment.

"No, no, no, wait," Noah jumped up after you, grabbing you by the arm.

"It's not like that. That's not what I meant."

You refused to look up at him because of your embarrassment.

"I just meant that, well sex has never been a topic of conversation for us. I never thought you'd be coming to me for advice. That's all."

You raised your eyes, meeting Noah's. They were soft and full of sweetness, promising he was trying to be gentle with you.

"But yes," he answered quietly. "I have made a girl cum just by going down on her."

The air around you two suddenly shifted, the dynamic going from calm and collective to hot and a little nerve-wracking. You cleared your throat, swallowing hard when Noah moved closer to you in a way that he'd never had before.

"And I love it. I'm gonna be honest with you because you're my best friend, y/n.”

You looked up at him finally, noticing how dark his eyes had suddenly gotten.

"Honest? About what?"

Noah smiled gently.

"I love eating a girl out."

It was your turn for your eyes to widen now.

"That was a little too much information, Noah," you huffed a light laugh.

"You asked."

"Yes, I did. Anyway," you continued, taking a step back to create some space between the two of you.

The dampness between your thighs and the tight clenching of your sex made your heart start to race. Your panties were soaked, something that had never happened around Noah before. But because of the topic of conversation and the way he was looking at you, something between the two of you had quickly changed.

Noah was hot as fuck and everything about him drove you crazy, sexually. But he was your best friend and you were his. There was no way he felt the same about you.

"Okay, so, anyway, was it difficult for you? Getting her to cum?"

Your voice was shaky, giving away just how nervous you were to be having this conversation with Noah.

"No, it wasn't. When you know what you're doing, it's quite easy, actually. You just have to find that right spot on her pussy, right between her clit and her entrance; rub that while using a mix of your tongue and finger, and bam, you have her."

Noah smirked, arching a sly brow and watching the way you responded to his words. Your body was tense, and your palms were sweating. What the fuck was happening to you. It was just Noah.

"Why are you asking me this, y/n?" Noah narrowed his eyes.

"I um, I," you were nervous as fuck. Noah had somehow gotten under your skin with his teaching and all you could think about was his tongue and long, tattooed finger doing the same thing to you.

"I've never finished when a guy has gone down on me, and I, shit... I don't know if it's me or them."

You let out a long breath. 

"Wait, what? Are you being serious?"

You nodded.

Noah's face went deadpanned, blinking a few times.

"Soooo, you've had sex before, just the clown you slept with never made sure you finished before him?"

You nodded again, unable to look Noah in the eyes.

"Fuck, y/n. That's heavy. How is that even possible?"

You shrugged.

"It has to be a them issue, not you."

You raised your head, checking to see if Noah was joking. But he wasn't smiling; he was serious.

"Why? What makes you think it's their fault and not mine. What if I'm the problem?"

"Wow, okay," Noah said, taking you by the shoulders. "You are definitely  not the problem, y/n, trust me. It is a hell of a lot harder for a girl to have an orgasm than it is for a guy, oka? Plus, you're beautiful. Any guy that’s with you should want to make you happy first.” 

You were so consumed with embarrassment that you didn't notice how close Noah was. He was only a few inches away from where you could smell his cologne mixed with the warmth of his body heat. You sucked in a breath as he cupped your face, bringing you closer together.

"How can you be so sure, Noah?" Your voice barely above a whisper. "Unless you're willing to test that theory, I've got nothing else to base your claims on."

Noah's lips were just a few inches from yours.

"Then let's find out."

"What?"

"Let me test my theory. Let me go down on you. I know I can make you cum."

You felt the light brush of his lips against yours as you took slow shallow breaths.

"Noah, I can't. If we do that,"

"Then we can't go back to how things are the way they are between us right now?"

"Exactly," you told him.

"Good, cause I don't want them to. I want more," he confesses. “I want more of us, not just as friends, but together. 

A small smile spread over your face. “Me too.” 

"Then let’s find out. Let me make you cum the way you deserve to."

Your best friend, the one who had been there for you through two break-ups and the death of your cat, gently laid his lips on yours. At first, it shocked you, knocking you back a little from the sheer force of his greediness, but the moment Noah pulled away, leaning back to look at you, you knew that you didn't want to be "just friends with him anymore".

"Okay."

A lopsided grin swept quickly over Noah's mouth before he carefully led you back over to the couch.

"Sit," he ordered, and you did, looking up at him.

You didn't know what to do with your hands or how you should keep your legs. The once neutral feelings and normalcy were no longer between you and him, replaced only by fear of what to expect running through your nervous system.

Noah removed his shirt before dropping to his knees. Yeah, you've seen him shirtless before, but the circumstances were completely different. This time, it was because he wanted to fuck you, not because he was hot.

"First, you need to relax, okay? You won't be able to reach your climax if you're anxious and tense, okay?"

You nodded.

Noah leaned over and kissed you again, making your insides flutter. As he looked down, you watched his eyes trail over your lower body, slightly licking his lips.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this y/n."

Your forehead puckered.

"Really?"

"Hmm, really," Noah confessed, giving you a confident smile.

His fingers found the waistband of your leggings, and he slowly slipped them under."

"Can I?"

His respect for you made you grin.

" Yeah, you can," laughing lightly.

Like a kid on his birthday, Noah slipped your leggings down as you raised your bottom so he could slide them all the way off. He stared at your middle, eyes darting everywhere.

"Secondly, one way to stimulate yourself is to watch."

"Watch," you lightly croaked, swallowing and licking your dry lips.

"Uh-huh, watch. Watch as I eat you out," Noah confidently smiled at you.

"Watch as Ienjoy the taste of you, how I dive between your folds and licks every part of you. Watch as I slide a finger or two up inside you, trying to tear down your inner walls."

Pulling you closer to the edge of the couch, Noah ran his hands slowly up your thighs, leaning down to kiss them. The feeling made you gasp, and you felt his warm breath spill over your skin from his chuckle.

"Has anyone kissed your thighs before?"

"No."

"Shame on them. Such pretty thighs. I'm glad I'm the first, though."

His touch aroused every feeling for him you had suppressed all this time. Your skin prickled, sending shockwaves of a tingling sensation straight to your pussy. You were so wet, the dampness in your underwear proof of how much Noah was turning you on.

Parting your thighs, Noah sunk down and ran his tongue over the skin of your inner thigh. Your body twitched, hands digging into the couch cushion.

"Mmm, your skin is so soft and warm, baby," he praised.

Looking up at you, Noah paused.

"You good?"

You nodded, but really, you weren't. You were wound up so tight, your pussy so stimulated, that you were on the brink of tears.

"Tell me if you're not, promise?"

"Promise." Your jaw was clenched out of pure desperation to feel Noah go further.

Hooking his fingers around your panties, Noah looked up once more and your eyes locked as he slid your panties off. You quickly closed your legs so he couldn't see.

"Relax," Noah said gently, kissing your knees. "We can stop if you want to."

"No, don't stop. I just, it's just weird to know that after all of this time together as friends, we're actually doing this."

" Y/N, we're still going to be friends. Just with benefits and more."

You nodded, relaxing your legs.

Noah parted them, sighing a low "fuck" as his eyes beheld your treasure.

Your pussy was thriving. It was the perfect shade of pink, glistening with your pre-cum that Noah could wait to taste.

"Oh god," he groaned, pulling you all the way to the edge of the couch.

"Thirdly, you have to help me make you cum too."

"How?"

Noah couldn't take his eyes off your pussy. If you didn't know any better, you'd swear he was drooling. You cupped his face, lifting it so you could look at him.

"How do I help you, Noah?"

"Your hands," he stammered, "use them. And your thighs. Please, fucking use your thighs to hold me against you when you do cum."

You were so fucking turned on you didn't even think of how wrong this all was, what Noah was about to do. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered, not even the others who had failed in fully fulfilling you. You knew Noah would.

His fingers lightly touched you, like the feeling of a feather. You sucked in a breath, holding it as you kept your eyes on what he was doing. Taking his thumb, Noah found the spot right around your clit area and applied the right amount of pressure, slowly creating circles causing your entire body to ignite.

"Right there?"

"Mmmhmm, yeah, right there," I gasped.

The tip of his tongue protruded through his lips as Noah gently worked your clit, but pulled away after a few seconds. He trailed his fingers through your folds, smearing your wetness, that he caused, all over you, before easing one finger, knuckle deep, inside your entrance. You rutted against him a little, pulling a nice little chuckle from him.

"Noah," you gasped, throwing your head back from the stimulation he was showing your sex.

"Oh fuck yeah, y/n, it was defiantly a them problem. Look at you baby, look how fucking wet you are for me."

Noah pulled his finger out and showed you how wet his finger was. It glistened with your juice. Noah slipped the finger in his mouth, making you whimper.

"God, you taste so sweet." He looked at you, watching him lick you off his finger, lighting the fire deep in your abdomen.

"You like watching me, don't you? It gives you those right kinds of feelings right here, doesn't it?" Noah slipped not one but two fingers inside you, causing you to sit up. The new angle allowed him to go further in you.

"Fuck, Noah," your cry turning into a moan.

"Oh god yeah, there's your spot."

"Noah," you whine, your fingernails digging into his bare shoulders.

"Yeah baby?"

"Make me cum for you," you pleaded, watching the look of pure lust rush over his dark eyes.

Noah lifted your legs, causing you to lean back on the heels of your hands, throwing each one on his shoulders and spreading you open like his favorite book. He locked his arms around them, which allowed his fingers to work the top part of your pussy while his mouth took care of the bottom.

Without a word, he pulled your folds back and ran his tongue up your slit then back down groaning in praise as he did. The penetrating feeling of your best friend's mouth on you was a feeling you never, ever thought you wanted let alone needed.

"Oh, Noah," letting out a long, low moan as you watched his head move between your legs that were already trembling as every muscle in your body tightened.

"Jesus, baby you taste so fucking good. Fuck! So sweet and juicy" he cursed, diving back into you. His tongue entered you, probing your entrance over and over and lapping up your juices mixed with his spit, swallowing all of it.

"Fuck Noah, oh shit, don't stop, please," you whined grinding yourself against his mouth.

"That's it, baby girl, just like that. Work your sweet cunt on my tongue."

You brought one of your hands to his head, running it through his long hair, sighing at the feeling of it slipping through your fingers. Noah moaned against your pussy. The feeling he was putting you through was insatiable, completely indescribable. You couldn't speak anymore, just moan and whine the more he bit and sucked or licked and probed. Gripping his hair and tugging on it, you gasped, panting at the unfamiliar feeling coursing through you.

"You're so close, baby I can feel it, here," Noah rasped, laying his hand on your abdomen. "You're really tight."

"I know I am, I can feel it. Noah, please don't fucking stop," you begged him through a needy whine.

Noah's eyes stared at you darkly. He was loving the way he had you like puddy, in the palm of his hand. "Don't take your eyes off me."

"Okay," you whimpered.

Noah dived back into you, working your pussy thoroughly in and out. Your thighs shook as his tongue alternated between thrusting into you opening and messaging you clit, adding two fingers to the desperate need that kept building and building.

"Oh god Noah," you whined, panting desperately. "Oh god, don't stop. Fuck, baby, I'm almost there," you cried, gripping his hair and tightening you thighs around his face like he wanted

He ate you faster, fucked you harder, until your climax hit you hard, crashing into you like a tidal wave. You screamed his name, moaning as your inner walls clamped down on his fingers and he licked and sucked your bud. Without any shame, you rode his face, giving in to the sinful pleasure of the way his tongue forced you orgasm to spiral on.

"Fuck me, Noah," you exhaled breathlessly, when he pulled away.

"Can I?"

Your eyes widened, but you knew you wanted him to.

"Yes."

Noah stood up, pulling his joggers and boxers completely off and revealing his prized secret. Even though you were still dizzy and mind fucked from you first orgasm ever, you were still able to appreciate the size and length of Noah's dick. It was prettier than you imagined.

Without a word, Noah pulled you up and spun you around forcing you to bend over. Bracing yourself against the back of the couch, you felt the now familiar feeling of your arousal building up again.

"I know this isn't romantic, fucking you like this for the first time, but every time I've gotten myself off just from thinking about you, it's always been from me fucking you from behind. Are you okay with this."

You nodded quickly, looking over your shoulder.

"Yes, please, just fuck me, Noah."

And on that note, Noah grabbed your hips and slammed his cock up inside you, making you scream a string of choice words. He fucked you hard and fast, the only sound being your moans and skin slapping against skin.

"Fuck! You cunt it so fucking tight around my cock, y/n," he growled. "I wanna fuck you like this every day. Goddamn it!" It only took Noah a few more hard thrusts before the tension snapped in him and he managed to shove your shirt up before pulling out and coming all over your lower back.

"Holy fuck!"

Noah leaned over to you, completely out of breath. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you up and into his chest soaked with sweat. Together, you collapsed on the couch, tangling yourselves up in each other.

"I really need to shower," Noah said.

"Me too. I'm a little sticky."

Noah looked at you raising his eyebrows, that same gleam in his eyes from before.

"Round 2?"

"In the shower?"

Noah pulled you up.

"Absolutely. Shower sex is my favorite."

He shot you a cocky wink, grinning like the devil before lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

[b0ng05]

Jealous - Sam Carpenter

(Angst/Fluff)

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Prompt: Y/n gets jealous after she sees how Sam and Danny interact. On their way home, Y/n and Sam start to argue in the car.

Word Count: 1474

Also, Not Proofread 💅

Masterlist

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Sam’s foot slams down on the break and her head whips over to look at me. My eyes averting to the window, trying to avoid hers. “Did you seriously just say that?” Sam scoffs, looking at me expectantly. “Yes.” I give a curt nod, crossing my arms.

“You’re seriously starting a fight over this? Real mature.” Sam rolls her eyes, before turning her attention back to pulling out of the parking lot. “Are you kidding me Sam? I voiced my opinion on how I felt about Danny. If you can’t have an adult conversation about feelings, pull over.” I huff, biting my cheek to hold back.

“You’re getting jealous over our neighbor and I’m the bad guy?” Sam let’s out a humorless chuckle. “With the way you feed into his flirting,” I seethe, reaching to unbuckle my seatbelt but my wrist is caught by Sam before I could.

“I do not feed into his flirting! He doesn’t even flirt with me!” Sam rolls her eyes again, adjusting her hold on my wrist into holding my hand. “He does! And I don’t wanna sit here and keep arguing about it if you aren’t going to actually hear me.” My hand attempts to slip away from Sam’s but she keeps her hold tight.

Sam pulls the car over on the side of the road, putting it in park before turning her attention to me. Her hand reaches over and gently turns my chin to look at her. She takes a deep breath, collecting her words as her deep brown eyes stare into mine, calculating how to react in a productive way. She lets out a breath before speaking as softly and lovingly as possible.

“I’m sorry if you feel like I wasn’t listening to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just could never see Danny in that way, and it was just starting to frustrate me that I haven’t made you feel secure enough to trust that.” Sam explains, softly caressing my cheek. “I love you, so much. I promise nothing is gonna happen between me and Danny. Nor has anything ever happened between us. And whatever you need me to do to help you feel secure in that, I’ll do it, no hesistation.” Sam whispers, kissing my cheek delicately. Her thumb softly rubbing along my cheekbone.

My bottom lip trembles a bit and I unbuckle my seatbelt so I can lean over and hug her easier. She wraps her arms around me the best she can with the middle console between us. My face tucked into the crook her neck. “I’m sorry for arguing, Sammy. I love you too.” My words muffled as I press my face into the soft cloth of her hoodie. She lets out a light chuckle, kissing the crown of my forehead, and softly rubbing circles on the small of my back.

“Are we okay?” She whispers. I nod, giving her neck a small kiss before pulling away. I reach up and caress her cheek. “I hate when we argue.” I mumble, leaning up to kiss her. She kisses back before she gently pushes me back into my seat, her arm reaching around me to grab my seatbelt and buckle me back in.

“I feel like I need to leash you. You’re a flight risk.” Sam lightheartedly teases, moving back into position so she can drive. “If you leash me, I’ll be even more tempted to run, just so you have to chase me.” I joke, poking her bicep.

“A new way for me to get my cardio in,” Sam plays along, a subtle grin poking the corner of her lips. Her eyes focusing on the road as she begins driving again. “Yeah? And what if I drop to the floor and refuse to move?” I hypothesize, a cheeky grin on my face.

“You know I have no problem with carrying you,” Sam jests, entertwining her free hand with mine. “Yeah and that definitely won’t look strange to a passersby,” I tease, lifting our hands so I can kiss the back of Sam’s.

“I wouldn’t be too concerned with them,” Sam says, a subtle smirk lifting her lips. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?” I ask, playing with the fingers of her free hand as she drives. “I’d be too busy thinking about your punishment for being a brat in public,” Sam smirks, her hand slipping from mine to caress my upper thigh, her cold rings causing a pleasurable shiver to run straight to my core.

“What kind of punishment?” I ask, biting my lower lip as the prurient actions of her hand run higher up my thigh. Her fingers tease up and under my skirt, her hand moving to cup my core over my panties, fingers running over the dampened fabric, rolling around my clit, leaving me with a desperate desire in my lower half.

“Thinking about you bent over my lap, and me, spanking your pretty little ass red.” Sam licks her lips, her dark eyes focused on the road as she drives. I squirm in my seat, her amorous words making my desire grow tenfold. The drive had begun to feel like hours despite only being minutes. Her words creating an image in my mind that I wanted desperately to recreate.

“You like that idea, huh, pretty girl?” Sam teases, her hand slipping under my panties, her finger swiping through my folds feeling the surplus of wetness. “Mhm~,’ I let out a soft moan at her actions, my hips bucking towards her hand but before I can even hope for more, her hand is crudely swiped away. My eyes dart over to her, watching as her finger slips between her lips, tongue swirling around her digit, licking it clean as she hums at the taste. Her eyes momentarily closing before glancing at me with a dark look that I knew well.

“God, I can’t wait to get you home, honey.” Sam’s hand moves back to grab my thigh and give it a light squeeze. “Drive faster,” I mumble, flustered by the older woman. My cheeks a shade of red and my thighs clenching together.

“You don’t get to make demands, baby,” Sam smirks, her fingers teasing up and down my thigh. The torturous teasing continued as Sam drove us back home. When she finally parked the car, I was quick to remove my seatbelt and get out of the car.

“Someone’s eager,” Sam teases, slapping my ass I walk passed her to go into the lobby of the apartment building. “You can’t tease me and expect me not to dart off,” I call to her, glancing back with a mischievous smirk. I giggle as I walk faster to the elevator. “Like I said, flight risk.” Sam calls back with a grin, easily catching up with longer strides. When she gets in the elevator with me, she presses the button for our floor, waiting until the doors closed to strike. When we start to descend up, Sam pins me against the cool metal of the wall, one hand on my hip, the other resting beside my head. “Maybe the leash could still be in play here,” Sam teases. I blush as I reach up to tug her collar down for a kiss. It starts out slow but quickly heats into something much more passionate. Sadly being interrupted by the ding of the elevator doors opening.

“Come on,” Sam whispers, grabbing my hand in hers to guide us down the hallway to our apartment. I kissed along her shoulder as she unlocked the front door, “You can’t wait, can you?” Sam teases, giving a light teasing pinch to my behind as I walk through the door. I give a small yelp at the pinch, playfully smacking her hand as I turn around. “Admit it, you can’t either.” I muse, watching as she locks the door back up before she turns to me.

“Oh, baby, I never said I could.” Sam smirks, coming closer and wrapping her arms around my waist. She taps my thighs, signally me to jump. I comply and Sam easily lifts me. My legs wrapping around her waist, arms around the back of her neck as her hands rest on my ass. I playfully raise an eyebrow at her hand placement. Sam catches the look and lets out a small huff of laughter, “Can’t blame me, that skirt does things to me.”

I playfully roll my eyes at her words, kiss her cheek sweetly. “Carry me to bed already,” I tease, “Then I can do other things to you in this skirt.” Sam laughs and gives my ass a small squeeze before starting to make carry me to our bedroom. The rest of the night filled with Sam proving me to that I had absolutely no reason to be jealous over some dude.

Authors Note-

Heyyy, I'm back. Its been a hot minute, I got a job so I been a little busy. But I do have a lot of stories I'm working on, I have seen my inbox and I will be getting to requests as soon as I can. 🫶🏼

[2i1han]

Slowly, Then All at Once

5.1 : finally (truth)

pairing: classmate!leehan x fem!reader│word count: 8.8k

genre: fluff, a bit angsty, slow-burn, young adult, romcom

tags: boynextdoor , non-idol au, high school/college au , first love , neighbor!leehan , extrovert!leehan , cold!leehan , extrovert!reader

characters mentioned : kim leehan , park sungho , sakai moka , kim minji , bae jinsol , lee jooyeon

warnings : no warnings! sfw

summary : you and leehan have known each other for years—classmates since ninth grade, always familiar but never really close due to leehan's indifference. but when his brother enters the picture, everything starts to change. unresolved situation that were once buried begin to surface, and leehan must decide: let go or finally take a chance.

a/n : the first half of the finale is here! i decided to split the last part into two since it took longer than expected. i had so much fun writing this omg! i hope you guys would love it as much as i do. happy reading!

playlist : wanna be/gfriend , serenade/boynextdoor , because you are beside me/yoon youngjoon , feel like falling in love/melomance , heavy heart/rio , so tender/say sue me , bad/wte , light/wte , can't go/ben , chocolate/bol4 , would you love me/stella jang , everyday/haebin

the ruckus finally settled with you, leehan, and sungho seated around a cramped four-seater dining table in their apartment, silently eating the beef stew sungho had prepared. the tension in the air was so thick you could probably cut it with a spoon. aside from the occasional clink of utensils against ceramic bowls, the room was dead silent—so silent, in fact, that if someone dropped a pin, you were pretty sure it would sound like a gunshot.

you glanced up from your bowl, only to catch the brothers shooting daggers at each other from across the table. sungho's jaw was tight as he focused on his food, while leehan, chewing on a piece of beef, had that smug look that made you want to either roll your eyes or throw a napkin at his face.

"wow, never knew you could cook like this," leehan sneered, pausing to flick a glance at sungho.

"thanks," sungho muttered, clearly unimpressed by the backhanded compliment.

the energy at the table was unbearable, so you decided to cut through it with casual conversation. you turned to sungho, hoping to shift the mood.

"i have a portrait project that's going to be presented at the spring exhibit," you began, tapping your fingers lightly against your bowl. "and i still need a model. would you be up for it? i can't seem to find anyone who fits what i'm looking for."

sungho perked up instantly, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise before his lips curled into a pleased smile. but just as he opened his mouth—

"i can do it," leehan cut in, his voice way too casual for someone who had just rudely interrupted.

you blinked. sungho blinked. the room froze for a moment before sungho slowly turned to look at his younger brother with an expression that was half murderous.

"actually," sungho tried again, clearing his throat, "i can manage—"

"nah, pretty sure you're busy," leehan interrupted once more, tilting his head with feigned innocence. "jooyeon mentioned your band has a bunch of upcoming gigs. and competitions, too. next month's gonna be packed for you, huh?"

sungho's smile twitched. his grip on his spoon tightened.

you weren't dumb—you could see right through whatever leehan was trying to pull. but at the same time, he wasn't wrong. sungho's schedule was a mess, and while he looked like he was about to fight for his life at this dinner table, you didn't want to pile on more responsibilities for him.

still, sungho gave it one last shot. "i can still—"

"lock in, man. we're all gonna be watching you at the competition, right?" leehan continued, his voice seasoned with mock encouragement.

you could almost hear the way sungho ground his teeth together. he was seething.

meanwhile, leehan took another bite of beef and—oh, of course—grinned victoriously. "but i'm free, just saying," he added nonchalantly. "i can cover for him."

sungho sent him a sharp side glance, his silent rage radiating off his skin.

you hesitated, your eyes flickering between them. sungho looked like he wanted to argue, but you knew he was genuinely busy. as much as you wanted to respect the fact that he would make time for you, you also didn't want to be the reason he lost sleep over a project.

"well… alright," you finally muttered, stuffing rice into your mouth to avoid meeting sungho's pitiful expression.

"great." leehan smiled, looking downright pleased with himself. "just message me when."

and, after the painfully awkward dinner, the second you stepped out of their apartment and into yours just a few steps away, sungho shut the door behind you. then, in the blink of an eye, he whirled around, arms crossed, and shot leehan a deadly glare.

"you—"

before he could finish, he let out a dramatic groan and collapsed onto the sofa, dragging his hands down his face in pure exasperation. leehan, meanwhile, simply leaned against the wall, popping a stray piece of beef into his mouth.

"don't look at me like that," leehan said with a smirk. "it's not my fault you're busy."

sungho just hissed at him, rolling his eyes before sprawling across the couch. he upped the volume on the tv, just enough to really rub it in.

"oh yeah, by the way—just clean up the mess in the kitchen," sungho tossed over his shoulder. a smug grin all over his face

leehan scoffed, immediately getting on high alert. "what? no way. you cooked, i ate, we move on with our lives."

"uh uh," sungho cut in smoothly, waving a hand as if dismissing some lowly peasant. "i'm way too busy with my band practice. y'know, my jam-packed schedule and all that. can't do the dishes or clean the table." he sighed dramatically, like he was carrying the weight of the economy—or at least the weight of not having to do chores.

leehan's jaw clenched. he could already see where this was going.

"oh, and while you're at it," sungho added, stretching his arms over his head with a sigh, "give the laundry pile a spin too, yeah?"

leehan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "you’re kidding."

sungho gave an exaggerated wince. "i wish i was."

leehan scoffed, poking his tongue in his cheek in irritation. with a sharp exhale, he rolled his eyes before silently raising a fist behind sungho's head in a mock punch.

sungho, still casually playing his fifa, didn't even need to look before sneering, but then, it eventually faded into indifference as he's reminded that you'll be spending most of the time with leehan regrding the project instead of him.

the moment you stepped into your room, exhaustion hit like a train. you barely made it to your bed before flopping down, face-first into your pillow. a muffled groan escaped vibrated from your face, but after a few seconds, you rolled onto your back, stretching your arms before grabbing your phone.

your fingers hovered over sungho's chat. you had planned to type out a quick, "sorry i picked leehan, just being mindful of your schedule." but your thumbs hesitated over the keyboard.

sorry? for what?

it wasn't your fault sungho was busy, and it definitely wasn't your obligation to use only him as your model. with a huff, you backspaced the entire message and tapped into leehan's inbox instead.

"tomorrow at 4 p.m. sharp. art room in our building."

you hit send, then immediately turned your phone off and tossed it onto the bed beside you.

ding.

your phone lit up instantly. you squinted at the screen.

"sharp."

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the slight smirk on your lips. not bothering to reply, you pushed yourself up, changed into your pajamas, and crawled under the covers. tomorrow was going to be a long day.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

by the time the clock neared 4 p.m., you were already running on fumes.

the day had been nothing short of hectic—paint-splattered hands, brushes rolling off tables, and the scent of turpentine clinging to your clothes. minji and bae had already left hours ago, both of them free from the burden of last-minute exhibit work as they won't be participating. meanwhile, you still had one unfinished portrait standing between you and sweet, sweet freedom.

you stretched, arching your back with a groan as you wiped your hands on your already paint-drenched apron. you cleaned up your station and made your way to the painting area at the back of the room, where stacks of canvases leaned against the wall, and easels stood around. the last two students in the studio gave you polite bows before heading out, leaving you alone.

a glance at your wristwatch. 3:58 p.m. perfect timing.

you had just finished setting up your large 36x48 canvas, arranging your materials neatly on the side table, when a soft knock sounded against the door.

you turned around just in time to see leehan stepping inside, hands casually tucked into his jeans' pockets. his white shirt was slightly oversized, and the strap of his sling bag rested diagonally across his chest. he strolled over, leaning down onto a nearby table, his legs swinging slightly.

"you really took my message seriously," you teased, setting up the cylindrical stool for him.

leehan grinned. "i'm a man of my word."

"good. sit there." you pointed at the stool, propping yourself onto your own chair. you adjusted your position slightly, angling yourself so you could still see him past the huge canvas.

leehan swung his sling bag off his shoulder and settled into place, tapping his fingers against his knee. his eyes flickered toward the blank canvas before him. "that's a huge canvas."

"and your face is going to be on it for the entire university to see." you smirked, sharpening your pencil carefully.

he then let out a short chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "hope i don't ruin it."

you deadpanned at him before dragging your gaze back to the canvas. "you won't. unless you suddenly decide to grow a third eye midway."

leehan snorted, but then immediately straightened his posture, preparing to stay still.

you leaned in, squinting as you began sketching the rough outlines of his face. the problem? your vision wasn't exactly the best. you pushed your glasses up your nose and squinted harder. still blurry.

"leehan, can you—"

his head perked up at your voice, alert like a golden retriever.

"can you move a little closer? i can't see."

he let out a breathy chuckle but obeyed, nudging his seat forward until he was about a meter closer.

you nodded, satisfied, before refocusing on your work. your gaze flickered back and forth between him and the canvas. leehan, however, kept his eyes stubbornly locked on the wall behind you, refusing to meet your eye.

then, came the tricky part—his eyes.

for the portrait to work, he needed to look straight ahead. but his gaze was still glued to the wall, as if the fish encyclopedia was written all over it.

clearing your throat, you tried again. "okay, now… can you maybe, uh, look at me?"

as soon as the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. god, that sounded way too awkward.

"i mean, just look here," you clarified, motioning at your own face for emphasis.

leehan hesitated, but after a beat, he finally locked eyes with you. the moment his gaze met yours, his fingers started fidgeting in his lap, and—was that his ear turning red?

you bit back a sigh. this would've been so much easier if it were sungho.

even from across the room, you could see leehan overthinking his existence. his posture was stiff, his shoulders unnaturally squared like a soldier in formation.

"relax," you muttered.

leehan exhaled sharply, his shoulders immediately dropping. he hadn't even realized how tense he was.

the next hour then passed in silence. you worked in quiet concentration, laying down the basic sketch, while leehan sat there, completely still—physically, at least. mentally? his thoughts were screaming "she's so pretty. relax. she's so pretty. relax."

every time you leaned in to observe him, leehan would hold his breath. every time you tucked a pencil behind your ear, he had to fight the urge to look away. and when you casually blew a stray strand of hair out of your face? that was it. he was done for.

if anyone asked, he'd swear it felt like you were the one who should be getting painted, not him.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, you stretched your arms with a satisfied sigh. "alright, you can loosen up for a bit. i'll grab us some drinks from the vendo outside before we move on to painting."

just as you started to stand, leehan abruptly shot up as well. "no, stay. i'll go get it," he blurted out.

you raised a brow. "you sure?"

he nodded firmly. "yeah, what do you want?"

"uh… just a fanta."

"got it."

before you could argue, he was already making his way to the door. it shouldn't take long—there was a vending machine right outside the room.

a couple of minutes later, he returned, holding an orange fanta in one hand and a cola in the other. he handed you your drink wordlessly.

"thanks," you said, reaching for the can with a small smile.

leehan simply nodded, sitting back onto his stool, taking a sip of his own drink.

you cracked open the drink, taking a sip while glancing at your sketch. it was coming together, but you still needed to refine the details before painting. meanwhile, leehan took a swig of his cola, clearing his throat as he tried to shake off whatever nerves had been plaguing him the whole session.

"by the way," you started, stretching your arms before setting your drink down. "if you're tired, you can move a bit. just let me know before you do so i don't mess up the proportions."

leehan blinked at you, mid-sip. "you say that now? after i've been sitting like a stone?"

you snorted. "you literally could've just told me if you were uncomfortable."

"yeah, well," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "didn't wanna mess up your flow. you looked… focused."

you raised an eyebrow. "right. and not, i don't know, paralyzed with fear?"

leehan clicked his tongue, "please, i'm an excellent model. totally natural."

you gave him a deadpan look, but you were about to giggle, pointing at his still-too-tense shoulders. "leehan, your posture has been so stiff, i feel like i'm painting a renaissance prince posing for his royal decree."

he groaned, finally slumping forward, elbows on his knees. "happy now?"

you chuckled. "much better."

for a while, the two of you just sat there in the usual silence, you sketching, him sipping his cola. the awkward tension had mostly melted away, replaced by something more comfortable—well, at least until leehan decided to open his mouth again.

"so, uh, why'd you choose me as your model, anyway?" he asked, voice casual, but his fingers were fidgeting again.

you hummed, not looking up from your sketch. "i needed someone, and you were available."

leehan huffed. "wow, so special."

you smirked. "well, sungho was my first choice."

leehan scoffed. "keyword, was."

"uh-huh." you rolled your eyes before adding, "but he's busy, and you have a face that works for what i need, so here we are, also not to mention you were insisting."

"a face that... works?" he blinked.

you nodded. "yeah, symmetry, strong features. good contrast for lighting. the kind of face that looks interesting in a portrait."

leehan processed that for a moment before leaning back slightly, unusually feeling bold. "soo… you think i'm handsome."

you paused mid-stroke. slowly, you looked up, giving him the blankest stare imaginable. "that's not what i said."

"but it's what you meant," he teased.

you exhaled sharply through your nose, unamused. "do you want me to make you ugly in this painting?"

"whoa, whoa there now," leehan laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "i'll behave."

you shook your head, going back to your sketch. leehan, now more relaxed than earlier, watched you work for a moment before muttering under his breath, "still, if i'm gonna be immortalized in paint, i better look good."

you didn't respond, but there was a tiny, smile on your lips.

you kept your focus on painting the base, carefully layering each stroke of color. the sound of the brush swiping against the canvas mixed with the hum of the vending machine outside, creating a strangely peaceful atmosphere. but even as you concentrated, your mind wandered.

somewhere between blending the undertones and defining the shadows, your thoughts drifted to earlier today.

leehan had been laughing with you, joking around like he hadn't spent the last few weeks acting like he had a personal no-fun policy whenever you were around. like he hadn't been weirdly stiff and overly cautious since the membership training. but today, it was like none of that ever happened. he was back to being comfortable again, and, honestly? you were kind of enjoying it.

a small smile crept onto your face before you even realized it. just a tiny one, but of course, leehan had to notice.

"what are you smiling for?" his voice broke the silence, his tone was genuinely curious.

crap. you immediately wiped the expression off your face, blinking rapidly like that would somehow delete the past three seconds. "nothing," you blurted out, grabbing the first excuse that came to mind. "just remembered a joke minji told me earlier."

leehan tilted his head, clearly not buying it. "wow. that must've been a knee-slapper if it's got you smiling at your own painting like that."

you pressed your lips together, refusing to let yourself laugh. instead, you cleared your throat and gave him a pointed look. "focus."

"you're the one who started smiling at random," he muttered under his breath, but he leaned back slightly, letting you get back to work.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

hours passed. the painting was coming together better than expected—each brushstroke settling into place, the colors blending just right. even though you hadn't fully detailed leehan's face yet, the portrait already looked like something that could be hung in the exhibit.

you sighed before shifting your focus to his left eye. and, that's when it hit you.

for someone who thought he'd "ruin the painting," leehan was actually ridiculously good-looking.

like, annoyingly good-looking.

you leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing as you studied his features. his eyes had that naturally thoughtful shape, framed by long lashes that felt unfair. his nose was well-defined, and his lips—full and slightly parted had the kind of symmetry that artists spent hours trying to get right on canvas. his skin? smooth. his blonde hair? soft-looking, with a few stray strands that casually fell over his forehead perfectly.

this was absurd.

you were so caught up in analyzing him like some kind of high-definition character model that you didn't even realize how long you'd been staring—until leehan cleared his throat.

you snapped out of it so fast you nearly dropped your brush.

leehan wasn't just looking at you now—his pupils were slightly blown, his face a little too still, and, most importantly, his ears were red.

"the paint's gonna dry," he muttered, nodding toward the palette in your hand.

"oh- uh... right," you said, gripping your brush so tightly it was a miracle it didn't snap in half.

"i'm just, uh, memorizing the color of your eyes for accurate blending," you blurted out.

a bold-faced lie. a straight-up horrible excuse. but you said it with confidence, and that had to count for something. leehan blinked at you. for a second, it looked like he might call you out, but instead, he just smirked.

you turned back to the canvas in urgency, focusing way too hard on mixing paint. it's normal to find people attractive. acknowledging someone's good looks doesn't mean anything. this was just an artist appreciating her subject. that's all.

a quick glance at leehan told you he was still looking at you, his fingers lightly tapping against his knee. his expression was still, and his smirk hadn't faded entirely.

you exhaled, shaking your head. yeah, totally normal.

you tried to ground yourself, to shake off whatever weird spell had momentarily possessed you, but your hands. you fumbled with your brush, nearly dropping it onto the palette.

to distract yourself from your own nervousness, you did the most natural thing you could think of, checking your wristwatch.

"oh- it's already 7:30 p.m. do you not mind being this late?" you asked, glancing back at leehan.

there was a flicker in his face, like something had just clicked in his brain. "oh, right… i had practice."

you blinked. "you had practice?"

"yeah, thirty minutes ago—"

"why didn't you tell me?" you cut him off, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the floor. "leehan! you should've said something!" you hastily set your palette down, already feeling mildly guilty. "come on, i don't want to be a hurdle in your schedule."

leehan stood as well, brushing off his jeans like he wasn't thirty minutes late to a commitment. "it's alright, really."

"no, it's not," you huffed, crossing your arms. "go catch up to your practice. we can just continue this tomorrow."

leehan raised an eyebrow at you. "and you? will you be fine going home alone?"

you narrowed your eyes. "wow, since when were you this concerned about me?" you sneered, untying your apron and turning to carefully place the canvas in a secure spot.

leehan cleared his throat. "i'd be held accountable if something happened to you. i'm the last person you've been with." he looked away as he said it.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "wow, thank you for that warm and thoughtful concern. my heart is so touched."

leehan said nothing, just slung his bag over his shoulder. but then, before heading to the door, he hesitated. "but, really. will you be okay?"

something in his tone made you pause. his usual teasing edge, and indifference was gone. long gone, replaced by something softer, and genuine. his eyes gazed at yours, and for a second, you saw actual worry there.

your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "yes, i promise," you assured him.

at that, his shoulders loosened a little. "just… take care," he muttered. "and don't hesitate to call if you need anything." there was hesitation in his voice, like he wasn't sure how much concern was too much concern, but his worry overshadowed his cowardness.

you felt the corners of your lips twitch. "i will…" then, snapping yourself out of the moment, you clapped your hands together. "now go, go! you're already late!"

leehan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but there was a sheepish smile playing on his lips as he turned towards the door. "see you."

you only hummed in response, watching as he disappeared down the hallway.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

after spending an estimated five minutes cleaning up the mess you made in the art room, tidying yourself up, and hastily shoving all your supplies into a large bag, you finally stepped out into the hallway. the evening light filtering through the windows cast a dim glow on the polished floors, giving the school a peaceful atmosphere despite your exhaustion.

as you adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you spotted sungho approaching from across the hall. his tall figure was easy to recognize, his casual uniform slightly disheveled as usual, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. the moment he saw you, his face brightened, and he jogged toward you with a wave.

"y/n!" he called out, voice echoing through the empty corridor.

you gave him a tired smile, rubbing at your temple. "hey," you greeted, your voice coming out lower than intended.

sungho slowed his pace as he reached you, his eyes instinctively scanning the space around. his head tilted slightly in curiosity before he turned back to you. "where's leehan?" he asked.

you kept your eyes straight ahead. "he left early. practice." your tone was flat, too tired to sound even mildly interested.

sungho clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "that prick. he presented himself like he had all the time in the world, but turns out he's just as busy as me." he huffed in mild annoyance, running a hand through his hair.

that made you chuckle under your breath.

"what?" he asked, his brows lifting slightly.

"nothing," you said, covering your mouth briefly with the back of your hand to suppress another giggle. "it's just funny seeing him like this."

"like what?" sungho squinted at you.

"like… actually existing." you shrugged. "he never really talked to me back in middle school. not until, well, the entirety of high school."

sungho suddenly came to a full stop, grabbing your sleeve to halt you as well. "wait, wait, wait—" his expression twisted in surprise. "you two have known each other???"

you blinked at him, his reaction catching you off guard. "uh… well, about that," you trailed off, biting your lip. you gave him your best starry-eyed look, silently pleading for him not to get mad.

sungho squinted at you. "and you're just telling me now???"

his dramatic reaction made you wave your hands defensively before patting his shoulder, trying to calm him down. "i was gonna tell you! but the situation between me and leehan was so awkward you wouldn't even notice that we've known each other for almost four years." you pursed your lips in, upset.

sungho stared at you for a second before scoffing. "yeah, well… i didn't notice." he resumed walking, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "leehan barely breathes around you—not until recently."

you huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "i don't know, but my first instinct was to deny knowing him the first time i found out he was your brother at orientation. i thought he'd just ignore me again and make me look like a fool, like—'oh yeah, we know each other!' while he just stands there like a statue." you rolled your eyes.

sungho hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "what do you mean by 'again'?"

you sighed, adjusting the weight of your bag. "we never really had any mutual connection despite being literal classmates for years. i kept trying to talk to him, but he was just… barely there? meh." you waved your hand dismissively. "it's just funny that he's finally interacting with me like a normal person."

sungho's face twitched, confusion passing through his face. it was subtle, but you caught the way his brows furrowed slightly.

he knew everything about his brother's social tendencies. every agenda, every thought that passed through leehan's mind—he always had an idea. that included the whole thing about minju. but now, as if a puzzle piece clicked into place, he suddenly remembered the unnamed girl leehan was whining about during the entire vacation.

sungho narrowed his eyes slightly. "you and leehan… never had any contact? not even, like, sns or something?"

you simply shook your head. "we exchanged about five 'hellos' in three years, give or take."

sungho muttered something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like weird. if it were minju leehan had been talking about, that would've been obvious. but now? sungho quickly shoved any forming conclusions out of his head. there was no way he liked the same girl his brother possibly liked. that was not in his bingo card. hell, he'd rather set the world on fire than entertain that thought.

he forced a chuckle, shaking his head. "guess he's been getting pickier with people as he grew."

"wow, so does that mean he doesn't like me, even in general?" you rolled your eyes, nudging his side with your elbow.

sungho chuckled at that. "if he doesn't, then he's the problem."

your smirk faded slightly, your expression shifting into wonder. you didn't say anything as you both exited the school gates, making your way to the parking area where sungho's white motorcycle was parked.

sungho picked up his helmet, pausing before handing it to you. "y/n."

"mm?" you looked up at him while already fidgeting with the helmet clasp.

he hesitated for a brief second before exhaling. "because i personally think you're likable."

you blinked at him, tilting your head slightly. "what do you mean?"

sungho held your stare, his expression unusually serious. then, without a single ounce of hesitation, he spoke.

"i like you."

you blinked at him, and suddenly the air was cold.

he just dropped it. no warning, no dramatic buildup—just straight-up dropped a confession like it was an everyday statement you almost thought he was kidding. his expression remained neutral, though you could see the amusement flickering in his eyes as he watched you process his words.

"you… me??" you pointed to yourself, brows furrowing.

"yeah, you." he nodded, this time with a smile on his lips. "i thought i was being obvious, but… wow. didn't know a socialist like you had no social cues when it comes to romance."

"wait, wait, wait." you held up your hands, as if physically trying to stop time. "when? were you obvious?"

sungho scoffed. "uh, i don't know, maybe when i first met you at the café last fall and slipped a note under your napkin—with my number and a compliment saying how beautiful you are?"

you opened your mouth, but he wasn't done.

"oh, and how about that time i bothered to ask for your name at the bus stop the same night? or when i took care of you when you were blacked-out drunk? bonus points if you even noticed how my face lights up whenever i see you."

with every sentence he stacked up, you pursed your lips tighter, slowly sinking in guilt as you finally saw the vision.

"i… i just thought it was because… i was your neighbor? and, you know, decency? friend things?"

sungho pressed his forehead with his fingers, clicking his tongue. "of course! because that's totally a normal way to make friends."

"but… why?" you chuckled nervously, leaning against his bike as he stood in front of you, arms crossed.

sungho tilted his head, smiling softly. "because you're insanely pretty. and, well… i got to know you. and you're kind, sweet, and fun to be with." his voice was so genuine, it's almost impossible to doubt his words.

you just smiled at him, clasping your hands together as if trying to steady yourself. "thank you, sungho," you muttered, your voice softer than you expected. "but i don't—"

"no, it's alright."

he cut you off before you could even finish, his tone was assuring, as if he already knew what you were going to say. "i just wanted you to know," he continued. then, as if catching himself, he added, "but, of course, that doesn't mean i don't want to take you out on a date." his smirk returned, teasing but not pressuring.

you let out a breathy smile, dropping your gaze to the ground for a second before looking back up at him. "sungho, i'm not sure about it... i'm sorry."

he lifted his index finger, stopping you before you could even get another word in. "and don't even think about apologizing, y/n." his voice was lighthearted, but his sincerity was undeniable.

you blinked up at him, lips parting slightly, unsure of what to say.

"just—just always remember that i'm here whenever you change your mind," he said, tapping a hand against his chest lightly. "always here." his smile held no hint of disappointment, only reassurance, and somehow, that made it even harder to respond.

any other person's heart would've fluttered at this. a handsome man in front of you, confessing his feelings with a soft voice, giving you space, reassuring you without a hint of resentment.

sungho had been a great friend. a constant. someone you could rely on, someone who made you laugh, someone whose presence had started to feel as familiar as your own shadow. but you only saw him as that.

at least for now.

some small, distant part of you wanted to like sungho the way he liked you, but no matter how you looked at it, you just couldn't. it wasn't that he wasn't enough—it was just that your heart had never leaned that way.

you inhaled deeply, then exhaled through your nose, forcing yourself to meet his eye. "i'll keep that in mind." you said.

sungho studied you for a moment before clapping his hands together, the sudden noise snapping the tension like a bubble popping. "alright then!" he grabbed his helmet from the motorcycle seat, swiftly securing it over his head.

"let's go?" his voice was slightly muffled through the helmet, but you could hear the grin in his tone.

you nodded. "yeah."

as you climbed onto the back of his motorcycle, he gave you a small glance over his shoulder. "hold tight."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"thank you for always driving me home," you said, stretching your arms with a sigh. "i get to save money on bus fare, enjoy a fresh breeze of air, and—" you wiggled your eyebrows at him. "a handsome driver too."

sungho scoffed, placing a hand on his hip, unimpressed. "don't tease me like that just because i finally told you i like you."

"whyy?" you grinned, leaning slightly towards him. "you are a handsome driver." you wiggled your eyebrows again, pushing the joke further.

sungho's lips twitched, but he held his ground. "mhm, really?" he leaned against the wall beside your door, crossing his arms. his expression hardened slightly, eyes hooded with a smirk. "date me then."

your laughter, which had been bubbling out freely just a second ago, abruptly slowed down. you blinked at him before straightening your posture. "nope," you said, lifting your finger in playful way.

sungho let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "then stop being stubborn, hm?" before you could react, he reached out and gently poked your forehead with his index finger. your head nudged back slightly from the unexpected touch.

"ow," you muttered dramatically, rubbing your forehead as if he'd actually done some damage. "assault."

"yeah, yeah." he rolled his eyes, standing upright again. "now go inside before our neighbors start thinking i'm some rejected ex loitering outside your door."

you clicked your tongue and turned toward the keypad, typing in your passcode. "i am going in now." you gestured lazily to your door as it beeped open.

before stepping inside, you heard him call out again, "eat dinner properly, or i swear i'll kick your door open with a stew in hand."

you turned your head halfway, peeking at him from the edge of the door with a teasing smile. "yes, dad, i will." you rolled your eyes for extra effect.

still smiling, you stepped inside but lingered just long enough to poke your head out one last time. "thanks again," you repeated.

sungho's expression softened immediately. "always welcome."

you gave him a final nod before shutting the door, the soft beep of the lock echoing in the now-quiet hallway.

the moment your body hit the mattress, exhaustion swallowed you whole. your limbs went weak against the soft sheets, your face buried into the pillow as the warmth of your room lulled you into sleep.

meanwhile, in the next door over, sungho sat slouched on the couch, eyes fixed on the flickering tv screen but mind wandering far from whatever show was playing.

then came the familiar sound of the door keypad beeping, followed by the sharp click of the lock opening. the door swung open, then shut with a heavy thud. sungho didn't look up.

"had fun getting your face drawn?" he muttered, his voice was flat but full of sarcasm, except, there's no trace of playfulness with it.

leehan, fresh from practice, stopped in his tracks. his muscles ached, his head pounded, and the last thing he needed was sungho throwing a fit. he had barely stepped inside, and already his brother was throwing jabs.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, annoyance bubbling up despite his exhaustion. he knew sungho well enough to catch the underlying irritation in his voice, but tonight, it grated on him more than usual.

with an irritated sigh, he let his duffle bag drop onto the floor with a loud thump, the impact vibrating through the quiet room. his steps were heavy, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he stalked closer to the couch. "what's your problem?" his voice was edged with frustration, his patience running dangerously thin.

"not only have you been getting in my way recently, but now you're also bringing random girls into our apartment without telling me?" his fists curled at his sides, knuckles turning white.

sungho barely reacted—until the words hit his ears. his jaw tensed, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as a scoff slipped out. his once indifferent stare flicked up, burning with annoyance

"some random girl?" he echoed. then, quickly, he pushed himself up from the couch, standing tall as he faced his younger brother. "or are you mad because it's y/n?"

leehan rolled his eyes, glancing away toward the wall, trying to keep his composure. "you're talking nonsense."

"don't play dumb, leehan," sungho shot back, stepping closer, his voice gaining an edge. "was she the girl you wouldn't shut up about during vacation? the one you kept moping over? 'oh, boo-hoo, i didn't get the chance to get close to her, and now she's moved to busan'—was it her?"

leehan's posture stiffened hearing this.

"i don't know what you’re talking about," he muttered, but his tone went weak, giving off the lie beneath it.

sungho let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "she was, wasn't she?" his eyes darkened as he took another step forward. "don't even think about lying to me, kim leehan—"

"fine!" leehan snapped, cutting him off. his voice was raw with frustration. "so what if she was? what if she's the girl i've been in love with since middle school?"

sungho's expression shifted, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly, replaced by disappointment rather than anger.

"you're unbelievable," he muttered.

leehan let out a bitter scoff. "what's so unbelievable about it, huh?" his voice was quieter now, but no less tense. "why are you always up her trail?"

"because i like her," sungho admitted without hesitation, his voice was steady, and confident. "that's why i'm always up her trail." he tilted his head slightly, eyes boring into leehan's. "what about you? what have you done, huh? aside from pushing her away your entire life? crying over things you could've changed if you actually tried?"

the words hit like a slap. leehan's pride deflated, his lips parting slightly, as if he wanted to argue,but he couldn't. because sungho was right.

silence passed between them. sungho's shoulders, though still tense, relaxed slightly as he sighed. "why didn't you say anything to her?"

"because you already did!" leehan spat, his voice breaking slightly as his eyes snapped back up to meet sungho's. "don't you think i overheard you outside y/n's apartment? i was on the stairs! i had to run a damn lap around the block just to forget whatever i just heard!"

sungho clicked his tongue. "so? that never stopped you before."

leehan let out another heavy sigh, this one full of exhaustion rather than anger, and finally dropped onto the couch, rubbing his temple. he knew sungho was right—again.

a moment passed before leehan muttered, almost to himself, "she likes you, doesn't she?" his voice was calmer now, void of hostility.

sungho hesitated before sitting down beside him, mirroring his posture, elbows resting on his knees. he exhaled deeply. "no, i don't think so."

he then let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head before adding. "you piss me off, you know that?" sungho scoffed. "you're a piece of sheep."

leehan blinked. "what?"

"you heard me." sungho leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. a sheep. dumb, fluffy, lost in a field somewhere."

leehan let out a tired groan, getting up abruptly. "god, i can't stand you." he muttered as he stormed off to the door to grab his bag, and in to his room.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

leehan barely slept that night. he tossed and turned, one side to the other, then back again. his mind was stuck replaying his argument with sungho on a loop, each word poking at him like a needle.

by the time your second painting session rolled around, he looked wrecked. his dark circles were prominent, his hair slightly messier than usual like he hadn't even bothered running a hand through it. but what stood out the most wasn't his exhaustion—it was how strangely he was acting. not distant, not cold, just different.

as usual, he sat on the cylinder stool, positioned exactly one meter in front of you. you, on the other hand, kept shifting your gaze between your canvas and him, checking proportions, colors, and lines. normally, he'd sit still, lost in his own world. but today, every time your eyes flickered toward him, you found him already looking at you.

"you don’t have any practices today, do you?” you asked, eyes flickering between the canvas and his face as your brush glided over the surface. "don't lie."

"i don't, i swear."

you weren't sure why, but the way he said it made you look at him. his voice has a softness that hadn't been there before. there was nothing particularly special about what he had said—it was the way he said them, the smile that curled at his lips as he spoke.

"hm..." you nodded subtly before refocusing on the painting, dismissing the feeling before it could eat you whole.

the studio was quiet. the hum of the fan filled the space, the faint scent of paint and turpentine hanging in the air. the clock on the wall read 7 pm, and aside from the two of you, the room was completely empty.

your painting was already taking shape—his eyes were done, capturing their usual beauty. all that was left were his nose, lips, hair, and neck.

then, out of nowhere, leehan broke the silence.

"what's with you and sungho?"

your brush halted mid-stroke, pausing for just a second before you dipped it back into the palette. "what?" you chuckled lightly, hoping to brush the question away.

leehan didn't budge. "hmm…" he hummed, tilting his head slightly. "i just noticed him being different toward you lately… and, you know, the whole thing about the café."

your eyes flickered toward him again. "you knew about that?"

he nodded casually. "mhm, sungho told you during the orientation, right?"

you tried to recall, frowning slightly before shaking your head. "i guess not? he did mention the one about talking to you about me, though."

"mhm, that's that." leehan's lips twitched.

realizing you were now cornered in the conversation, you sighed and turned back to your palette. "well, you probably guessed by now that he likes… me." you scrunched your nose slightly.

leehan barely reacted. no shift in posture, no change in expression, just silence.

"but... i don't know what to say to him," you admitted.

instead of offering some deep, thoughtful advice, leehan simply shrugged. "then don't say anything."

you blinked. "what? why?"

without missing a beat, leehan tilted his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "he'll move on." his voice was so indifferent, it was almost annoying.

your gaze briefly trailed down to his throat, watching as his adam's apple moved when he swallowed. for some reason, that irritated you. maybe because he was acting so… unbothered.

"you might be his brother, but you don't know that," you pointed out.

at that, leehan finally lowered his head back down, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip. the usual laid-back amusement was gone.

"then, it's up to you."

for once, his expression was easy to read. he looked disappointed. upset, even. and that threw you off.

the silence passed again, heavier this time. you weren't sure why, but you just stared at him. and for some reason, he let you.

it was only when he finally noticed your gaze getting longer that he looked away.

"go back to what we're doing so we can finish early," he muttered, dismissing the conversation entirely.

your eyebrows twitched slightly at his sudden shift in tone. you hadn't expected him to shut down so quickly. and strangely, the way he said it left a dull ache in your chest.

but instead of pushing, you just hummed in response and turned back to your canvas.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

friday nights were sacred. no classes tomorrow meant one thing: slight freedom. the four of you sprawled across the living room in your apartnment. the coffee table had been shoved to the farthest corner to make space, the tv was playing some random variety show no one was really watching, and a large tub of ice cream sat open in the middle.

moka was draped over bae's lap on the sofa, twirling a strand of her own hair between her fingers. minji lay on her stomach on the floor, chin propped up on her hands, legs swinging lazily behind her. and then there was you—cross-legged in the middle of the room, absentmindedly stirring a spoon into the melting ice cream, deep in thought.

"so," bae broke the silence, leaning forward. "what was that thing you were whining about in the group chat?"

moka tilted her head to look at you, her cheek smushed against bae's thigh, while minji turned her gaze expectantly in your direction.

you sighed, letting the spoon drop into the tub with a soft plop before leaning your head against the sofa armrest. "promise me y'all won't overreact?"

all three of them nodded, far too quickly to be trusted. knowing damn well they would overreact, you rolled your eyes and exhaled. "well… sungho told me that—"

"he likes you?" minji cut in, deadpan.

you blinked. "yeah?" your face scrunched in confusion. "how'd you know?"

"oh, girl, we've always known." bae let out a short laugh, while moka and minji just shook their heads in mutual disappointment.

"how? did... did sungho tell you?" you leaned forward, pouting slightly.

"no, duhh," moka scoffed, shifting slightly in bae's lap. "he was crazy obvious. we've been telling you that for months, but you just kept going, 'oh no, he’s just a friend' like—ugh."

"yeah, we've just been waiting for him to spell it out for you since clearly, you were a walking blindfold," bae added, shaking her head.

"and don't think we forgot about the whole thing where sungho slipped his number into your napkin back in 12th grade," minji pointed her spoon at you, eyes narrowed. "which you hid from us for months, by the way. that was our last missing piece. at that point, we were just waiting for you to get a clue."

you sat there, lips pressed into a thin line, back slouched.

"not surprising, really. we're just relieved you finally caught up," moka said, still fidgeting with bae's hoodie drawstrings.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. "okay, but like." you straightened up, drawing their attention back. "leehan—"

as expected, that name alone was enough to snap them back into gossip mode. minji's head lifted slightly, moka sat up properly, and bae's brows raised.

"he's been off lately," you continued, narrowing your eyes slightly.

minji immediately groaned. "i swear if this is another he's ignoring me again rant, i am never lending an ear again."

"no, no, listen!" you waved her off. "he's been around more—like, a lot more. earlier in the art room, he straight-up asked me what's up with me and sungho. at first, i thought he was just, you know, casually nosy because it's a matter about his brother, but…" you paused, watching their expressions shift.

"but what?" bae leaned in slightly, smirk forming.

"i don't know, he seemed kinda… irritated? when i told him sungho liked me." you played with the hem of your sleeve. "and when i asked him what i should do, he just went all, then don’t tell him anything, like... okay?"

a slow, knowing grin crept onto your friends' faces.

"and then," you continued, glancing at them warily, "during the membership training, i asked him if minju was the one sungho was talking about, like, the girl leehan was grieving over. but he looked at me and went-" you adjusted your posture, lowering your voice to mimic him, "'it's not… i was just scared that i wouldn't be able to see you again—""

"and you're only telling us this now?!" minji screeched, sitting up so fast that her spoon nearly flew out of her hand.

"how could you hide this from us?!" moka clutched her chest. "valuable information like this!"

"i'm sorry, okay?" you threw your hands up. "the last thing i needed while drowning in stress was you guys picking on me about it."

"but hey." moka gestured between minji and bae before crossing her arms. "are y'all thinking what i'm thinking?"

the three of them exchanged glances, all nodding as if you weren't sitting right there.

you squinted. "what are y'all on about?"

"you're just gonna call us ridiculous anyway," minji muttered, shaking her head.

"we're just saying—" moka grinned. "both of them probably like you. hell, they've probably already fought about it."

"that's ridiculous," you immediately scoffed.

"told you," minji huffed, nudging moka with her elbow.

"you'll see eventually. we're always right," moka said before flopping back into bae's lap.

you let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. were they right? they had been right about sungho, but leehan? that was a reach, right?

you shook your head, deciding you weren't about to let your friends' absurd theories mess with your brain. instead, you reached for your phone, unlocking it.

a notification minutes ago.

"do you wanna go out tomorrow before going to the studio?"

from leehan. you twisted your lips, thumb hovering over the screen. before you could even think of a response, you decided to check the earlier notification first.

"wanna swing by our band practice tomorrow? it’s gonna be fun :)"

it's sungho. your hand slowly dropped to your lap.

then, with a long, exhausted groan, you threw your phone onto the couch and flopped back, covering your face with your hands.

"great," you mumbled.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"no freaking way. i asked her first."

sungho stomped into the kitchen, his socked feet sliding slightly on the tiled floor as he stopped beside leehan, who was elbow-deep in soap suds at the sink.

leehan didn't even bother looking at him. instead, he flicked his soapy fingers in sungho's direction without hesitation. a few stray bubbles and water droplets splattered onto sungho's shirt, making him jolt back with a disgusted noise.

"we have a session tomorrow," leehan said flatly, picking up another dish with an almost offensively calm demeanor. "you can't seriously be trying to mess with her important schedule."

sungho dramatically flicked the water off his shirt, shaking his head like a cat that had just been hit with a spray bottle. "it's in the morning!" he argued, throwing his arms up. "she'll be back way before she even has to go to the studio. what's your point?"

leehan finally turned his head, giving him an unimpressed once-over before scoffing. "yeah? and she's gonna spend the rest of the day thinking about your dumb band practice instead of focusing on her project. real considerate of you, wow. really."

sungho groaned dramatically, rocking back on his heels before leaning against the counter "you know what? whatever. i can't wait to see that miserable face of yours when she responds to my message." he smirked, spinning on his heel, and stomped back to the living room'

the apartment settled into silence as leehan just rolled his eyes back to the sink.

then—ping.

sungho's phone screen lit up on the coffee table, the notification flashing.

almost immediately after—ping.

leehan's phone buzzed against the kitchen counter.

their eyes snapped toward each other. a tense pause.

the air suddenly shifted, like two cowboys squaring off in an old western standoff.

then, sungho launched himself toward the coffee table, nearly tripping over the rug as he dived for his phone like a desperate contestant in a game show. his socks provided zero friction, and he skidded slightly before catching himself, fingers snatching at his phone in a scramble.

at the same time, leehan almost ripped the kitchen towel from the counter, aggressively drying his hands at lightning speed before snatching up his own phone.

neither of them breathed as they fumbled with their screens, thumbs moving rapidly.

then—another beat of silence as one of them muttered "damn it,"

to be continued

[sturniozo]

Our Lips Are Sealed V

Masterlist

“Call me Daddy one more time, Y/N, I fucking dare you.” Chris says over the phone.

I let out a laugh and roll on my side over the bed. “But you’re pretending to be my dad to help me.” I say.

“Do you actually call your dad daddy?” Chris asks.

I laugh again. “It’s possible.”

“I think you’re just trying to mess with me.” He states.

“It’s possible.” I say again.

Chris laughs. “Just try to be serious about this.” He says.

“Okay okay.” I say as I sit back up. “Daddy, I need to talk to you-“

“God damnit, Y/N.” Chris says which causes me to laugh again.

“What? I’m just trying to practice telling my daddy.” I shrug.

“Y/N, I can’t help you if you’re gonna keep doing that.” Chris groans. “Please be serious.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Chris says.

“I don’t know how to start.”

“If you didn’t spend the last hour messing around and joking with me, we’d have gotten somewhere by now.” Chris says.

I bite my lip. “I’m sorry.” I mumble.

Chris sighs. “No, it- I didn’t mean it like that. Let’s just start from the beginning.”

“Okay.” I take a breath.

~

“Hey dad…” I say as I pick at the chow mein noodles in my plastic box.

“Hm?” My dad hums in response, not looking up from his food.

“I thought about what I wanted to say.” I start. I take a breath and set down my fork, remembering what Chris and I had practiced.

“Well, what is it?” My dad asks.

“Well, my birthdays in 2 days so… I’ll be 18 then.”

“You wanted to tell me something I already knew?” My dad says, still not looking up from his meal.

“No, I- I just. Well I’ve graduated from school, and I’ll be an adult and I’ll have a job and-“

“This is still all things I already know. What’s the point of the conversation?” My dad asks.

I take a breath. “I’m not gonna be spending the weekends here anymore.” I say, looking down at the table.

My dad’s silent for a moment before asking, “After you find a job?”

I shake my head. “After I turn 18.”

My dad stays silent. He takes a bite of his own noodles and leans back in his seat. I stare at him intensely, waiting for his answer. My palms start to feel sweaty and my heart races.

“Okay.” My dad says.

“What?” I breathe out, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Okay. You don’t want to be here that’s fine. You don’t have to come here. I can take you home right now if you want.”

“No, dad that’s not what I meant. I-“

“You don’t want to be here. You’d rather be with your mother.”

“Dad-“

“I get it.”

“Dad please-“

“I don’t want you here either.”

My breath stops for a moment. I close my mouth and stare back down at my plastic box of chow mein noodles.

“You’re a lot- you’re just.” My dad sighs. “You’re nothing like I thought having a daughter would be.”

I stay silent. My food starts to look disgusting to me. My dad says nothing, starting to pick at the vegetables in his own noodles.

I get up from the table and walk away, down the hall and to my bedroom. I close the door behind me and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes.

I lay in my bed for what feels like hours when I feel my phone buzz under my pillow. I reach my hand under and grab my phone, staring at the notification from Chris.

Chris 💩💕

How’d it go?

I don’t answer, not even opening the message. I just slide my phone back under my pillow. I roll over to the other side, facing the wall and clutching my blanket over my body.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes my phone is buzzing in the same rhythm as before, and the sun had already set, leaving my room dark. I groggily sit up and take my phone out from under my pillow. 2 am. 14 messages from Chris, 36 messages from Nate, 4 missed calls from Nate, and Chris currently calling.

I lean my head against the wall and answer the call. “Hey.” I say.

“What’s wrong, what happened? Your brother’s freaking out you haven answered for hours.” Chris says.

“I fell asleep.”

“How’d it go with your dad?” Chris asks.

“Fine. I told him I’m not coming back and he was fine with it.”

“Just like that? He’s fine with it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s surprising.” Chris says.

I laugh. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

“So you’re coming back Sunday night?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“You should probably call Nate, he’s been freaking out.” Chris says.

“Jesus, I just fell asleep.”

“Yeah, but you almost never sleep at your dad’s house.” Chris says while laughing.

It’s true. This place gives me the creeps. The carpet, the walls, the bed. I just can’t seem to ever sleep here. “I was tired.” I tell Chris.

“Okay, well tell Nate that. I’ll see you Sunday.” Chris says.

“See you Sunday.” I say and hang up. I immediately go to call Nate, who picks up before the first ring is finished.

“Y/N, are you good?” Nate asks. “Why’s it take you so long to answer? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I told my dad I want going to be spending the weekend with him anymore.” I tell Nate.

“And? What did he say?” Nate asks eagerly.

I take a breath. “He doesn’t want me to come back either.”

Nate sighs. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

I shake my head. “He told me himself.”

“Those words?”

“Those words.” I say softly.

Nate pauses on the other side of the call. There’s nothing but silence from both ends for what feels like hours. Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t want to be here anyways.” I say back.

“I know, but I also know you’re not happy with this.”

I sigh. “I should have said it differently. I should have asked him what he felt before I said anything.”

“It’s not you, Y/n.” Nate says.

“I have a hard time believing that.” I say back. It’s always me. Every failed relationship with anybody I’ve ever known had been my fault. I didn’t communicate well, I didn’t understand, I didn’t get it.

“When are you coming home?” Nate asks.

“I’m not sure.” I respond. “Dad said he’d take me back today if I wanted, but that was at dinner.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’ll just go home Sunday night. I don’t want to bring anything else up to dad.”

I hear Nate’s breath on the other end of the call. “Okay.” He says. “Do you want me to stay in call with you or are you going to sleep?” He asks.

“I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.” I tell him.

“Okay. Goodnight, kiddo.” He says.

“Goodnight Nate.” I say. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He says back before hanging up.

Once the call drops, I immediately go to the contact I’ve hesitated to call so many times. The call picks up almost immediately.

“Hey.” Chris says. “What’s up? Did you talk to Nate?”

“Yeah I did.” I tell him.

“Is everything all right?” Chris asks.

“Yeah.” I say softly. “Can you… can you stay on call with me through the night?” I ask.

Just from the sound of his voice I knew he was smiling. His pretty smile that makes me melt every time I see it. “Of course.”

TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @urfavpouge @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @dwalk41202 @stvrnise @iloveneilperry @luvmxtt @blueeyedbesson @iloveurgf @mattswifr @that-chris-girl01 @sturniolho

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter 1

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 1700 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Overall rating will be Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap but I imagine a lil' baby one of about 5 to 8 years. This chapter is a wee lil mellow one and sets the scene, but future ones will include soft, yet sexy and intense Dave; several twists - basically, it will have it all: action, angst, deception, fluff, humor, a puppy(!), and SMUT! No use of y/n. Dave will give reader a nickname based on his perception of her.

AN: I got too excited and decided to post the first chapter. Posting schedule will be somewhere are weekly, give or take a few days. Hope you enjoy and let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter 1:

“Sure, honey. You can come stay for a while,” your mom assured you. She sounded excited even though it wasn’t a call you wanted to make, not at this point in your life, but what other options did you have? “You can see the house and meet your new stepdad!”

Dead air.

The soft glow of you bedside lamp cast long shadows on the room, making the clutter of half-packed boxes look like ominous towers. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the phone tighter, trying to process her words.

“My new WHAT?” your voice rose toward the end in utter confusion. You didn’t even know your mom was dating anyone, let alone someone serious enough to fucking marry!

“Oh, honey, his name is Dave and you’re just gonna love him,” she replied with a lovesick simper.

You’d never heard her voice do that. She must be really into the guy.

Enough to marry him without even inviting you to the god damn wedding?

She’s still chatting away, explaining how they met – at work – and how it was such a whirlwind romance that they got carried away on a work trip to Vegas and decided to just tie the knot without telling anyone.

Okay. That, actually, didn’t surprise you. Your mom was super smart but could be a total a flake sometimes, leaving you to wonder who the adult was on more than one occasion while growing up. She had you really young and never quite matured.

“That’s great, Mom. I can’t wait to meet him,” you finally replied after twenty minutes of listening to her gush over this Dave guy. “But I’m not calling him Dad.”

She laughed. “Of course not, honey. He’s too young to really be your dad anyway.”

That piqued your interest.

“Oh, oh, oh, you robbin’ the cradle, mama?” you teased. “You’re really living your cougar era, huh?”

“Stop it, you,” she giggled in return. “So, when do you think you’ll get here?”

Conversation went back and forth a little longer as your mom gave you the new address – for fuck’s sake, they moved clear across the state from where you grew up, to a very swanky area at the shore, you noted – and you made a rough itinerary. In reality, you would have loved to just drop everything and get the fuck out of dodge right that minute, but logistics and all that.

“Ok, honey. Be careful and I’ll see you next week. Call if you need anything.” Before she ended the call, your mom added, “I’ll text you Dave’s number as well, so you have it in case of emergencies.

“Sounds good, mama. Love you.”

“Love you more, honey.”

You went back to packing up the remnants of your life, readying yourself for the cross-country journey ahead.

You did not have ‘moving back home at almost 30’ on your bingo card this year, but there you were, pulling into the half-moon driveway of a large colonial home in an upscale neighborhood, one much nicer than where your mom used to live. The house loomed under the late morning sun, its pristine white siding and black shutters stark against the cloudless blue sky. Perfectly trimmed hedges flanked the curved driveway, and somewhere nearby, the faint crash of waves carried on the salty breeze. This Dave guy had a lot of money, it appeared. Parking your little sedan to the far side in front of the 3-car garage, you turned the car off and lingered in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel.

Normally, you didn’t mind change, but… man, the past month threw some whammies at you. You lost a boyfriend, job, and your loyal goldfish in quick succession. Each loss hit worse than the last. And now, your safe space, the place you needed to return to so you could lick your wounds… also changed. Big time.

The soft tap of a manicured nail on the window startled you, head snapping to the side to see your mom standing in the driveway beaming at you. She bounced on her feet, anxiously waiting for you to get out of the car.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you!” You barely had time to fully stand up before she pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That was another thing about your mom – she was strong. She had lithe muscles packed into her small figure from being a total gym addict.

Too bad that addiction wasn’t hereditary. You hated the gym.

“Hi mama! Marriage looks good on you!” you praised her once you stepped back and took in her glowing, sun-kissed skin, vibrant blonde locks, and the large rock on her hand.

“You look good, too, honey. You losing weight?”

And of course, she honed right in on that. You weren’t even in front of her for five minutes, and she brought up your weight. Story of your life. Your body shape the exact opposite of your, mother’s, she hadn’t let up on nagging you about your weight since you were twelve years old. You were always a bit… thick in places.

“Uh, maybe, I dunno. Come on, show me your new digs.” You quickly changed the subject.

Your mom gives you the grand tour, proudly showing off all the lovely features of the house, focusing heavily on the ones the home you grew up in didn’t have like the huge kitchen, fireplace, pool, and enormous master suite, though she led you away before you could fully explore all that the suite offered. The two other bedrooms were already decorated for little girls, and you quirked a curious eyebrow at your mom.

“Didn’t I mention that Dave has two young daughters?”

No. No, she definitely did not mention that. You rolled your eyes, understanding now why your mom was so eager for you to come home. She wanted a built-in caretaker. You mentally counted down, knowing exactly what she was about to say in three, two, one…

“Actually, now that you’ll be living here, it would be great if you could look after the girls when we have to travel for work or want to go out, help with the school runs during the week.”

It wasn’t a question, you noted. Not that you expected her to ask first or even mention that being a nanny would be part of the deal. Nothing with your mom ever came without a cost. You learned that lesson long ago.

You loved your mom, you really did. Sometimes, she just didn’t make it easy to do so.

“Right. About that… where am I supposed to be staying if all the bedrooms are taken?”

She led you down the stairs to a door off the family room, where another stairway awaited you. “You’re locking me away in the basement?” you joked. “Please tell me it’s at least finished.”

“Just wait until you see it, honey,” your mom promised, and you reluctantly followed her down the steps.

When the lights flicked on, the sight took your breath away. It was like an entire apartment down there. It even had its own private entrance leading to the garage allowing you to come and go as you pleased. “Wow,” you breathed.

“Told ya.” She flashed you a twitchy wink. “You’ll have this whole space to yourself… well, except for that room over there.” She pointed to a closed door equipped with a sturdy lock.

“What’s in there?” you questioned, already curious about the reasoning for such a lock on the door.

“That’s Dave’s office. It’s off limits to everyone but him, so don’t go snooping. Got it?” She pointed a finger at you like you were an errant child, and you raised your hands in surrender.

“Heard you loud and clear, mama. I have no interest in whatever creepy ass skeletons Dave is keeping in his locked office.” Total lie, of course, but your mom didn’t need to know that.

“Good. Get settled in and help yourself to whatever you need. I must head to the office for a bit. Dave should be home at some point, he just had a meeting in town. I’ll pick up the girls from school on my way home if you want to take care of dinner.”

And there it was. You knew there’d be a bigger price to pay for this arrangement, more than occasionally taking care of your new stepsisters. Without a job or any other responsibilities, your mom was going to treat you like free labor. You saw that coming.

You followed your mom upstairs and through the front door as she headed to her car in the garage, and you went for yours. Might as well get unpacked, not like you brought much anyway. It was early still, and you could make a trip to the store for anything you needed before having to worry about dinner.

A few hours later, you stepped back to admire your new living space with a sense of pride. You did everything you could to make it your own, within reason.

With the basement suite basically being a blank slate, you chose a variety of decorative pillows, wall hangings, and chotchkes to give it your own stylistic flair. The furnishings unused and rather plain, you wanted to spice them up with splashes of color. You did everything short of paint the damn walls – and you would have done that too if given the option.

Grateful for a firm mattress with a plush pillowtop, you sprang for the softest satiny sheets you could find in a pale green hue and paired it with a patterned comforter with clean lines. A couple of coastal-themed lamps on the nightstands rounded out the small bedroom.

The bathroom was already decorated with a shower curtain and accessories in soft gray hues, and you wondered if that was Dave’s touch or your mother’s. Probably Dave. Your mom never veered toward subtle furnishings, much preferring patterns and styles that you found garish.

Glancing around at the neat space one last time, you headed upstairs to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. You wanted to make something special for the first time meeting your stepdad and his daughters.

tbc

Chapter Two

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69

[faithisyours]

Something to Tell

Azriel x Ace Fem!reader

Summary: You and Azriel are recently mated. You decide to take things slow, but you have something personal to tell Az.

Warnings: coming out, fluff

Word Count: 965

A/N: Sup y’all. Sorry I’ve been absent, a lot of shit happened. Anyways, I really just wrote this one for me. I think the topic of asexuality is really left out of this book series and fandom, understandably so, but I think it would be an interesting subject to discuss, so I’m here to fulfill my own wishes. Given the lore and rules around mates, I don't even know if this could be considered a thing, but I’m gonna try my hardest to make it a thing for my ace baddies out there. IDK if I’m gonna make this a series or not (probably won’t), but maybe see how people like it before making decisions. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to tell me. As always, minors gtfo. Adults, you enjoy!

You’re just finishing up bottling an allergy tonic for your neighbor’s son when the door to your apothecary opens, the bell above ringing out. You know exactly who it is, and you are simultaneously filled with dread and relief. Azriel, your freshly bonded mate, walks into the back room where you are working, his big Illarian boots creaking the floorboards wherever he steps. When you look up to greet him he gives you a soft smile, a smile you return.

You’ve known Azriel for a little over a year now, ever since Mor begged him to come pick up her sleeping tonic from you because she had been busy. But the bond haden’t snapped for either of you until roughly a month ago, when you were out drinking at Rita’s with the inner circle, per Nesta’s invite. Over the years you had grown close with the inner circle, specifically Mor and Nesta. What had started out as small talk when they came to pick up a tonic had blossomed into a beautiful friendship.

But the last thing in the world you had wanted to happen was to form a bond with someone, especially someone as good and sweet and caring as Azriel. Sure, he is beautiful, you of all people can see that, but the physical attraction stops there, like it always does. Emotionally you two are very compatible, sharing similar interests in books, music, and dancing. After the bond had snapped you both decided to take things slowly, moreso for your sake than his. Every day you grow more and more in love with him; you’re just terrified to see the disappointment and confusion in his eyes after you tell him you’re ace.

“Almost ready to go, Love?” Azriel asks, his eyes following the skilled movements of your hands.

“Almost done,” you respond, screwing the cap and writing the label onto the bottle quickly. You buss your wok table, putting away ingredients and empty bottles. You look over everything twice more, checking for anything out of place, but also as a means to stall. You are dreading this conversation.

“Looks good, Love. Want me to grab your coat?” You turn to him, a small smile on your lips, and grab his hand, gently cradling it in yours.

“Actually… Can I talk to you for a minute before we leave? I need to tell you something.”

“Ya, of course,” he squeezes your hand gently, reassuringly. “What’s up?” You take a deep breath and guide him to sit in one of the chairs at your work table, then pull one towards yourself so you're sitting in front of him. You take both his hands in yours. You don’t make eye contact but instead stare at your hands intertwined.

“There’s something I need to tell you about myself and I need you to listen and let me explain before you say anything,” you look up to see him nodding, a look of concern and confusion on his face. The knot in your stomach is twisting. Your anxiety is through the roof, but you take a deep, albeit shaky, breath to steady yourself.

“Okay. I don’t really know how to go about saying this so I’m just gonna say it. I’m asexual, which means I form little to no sexual attraction, in my case none at all, to anyone. Which means the likelihood of me wanting to have sex with you is basically zero. I know it’s kind of a thing for mates to do it all the time, and so I thought since I am the way I am that I would never form a bond with anyone, but I guess I was wrong. And I know you're probably thinking, “well, didn’t the bond snapping make you feel anything like that?” and the answer would be no. Umm…I guess I just want to add and say that I’m not broken, and that life will be a little different with me, and that I know my boundaries, but I’m also willing to try things with you because I love you and trust you… And this doesn’t mean I don't find you attractive, because I do, I think you're really pretty, but it's more in a ‘I want to paint you’ sort of way instead of an ‘I want to fuck you’ sort of way. And I’m rambling so I’m going to stop now.”

Your leg is bouncing up and down, gaze still glued to your entwined hand. A beat of silence passes, and then he squeezes your hands, which in turn makes you look up at him. His eyes are full of understanding and love, emotions you were not expecting to see. You exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling some of your anxiety fade away.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes at him, the last of your anxiety washing away. He stands and pulls you up to do the same. He releases one of your hands, using his to brush a rouge strand of hair behind your ear, then pulls you into a tight embrace. You’re taken off guard, but you melt into him, breathing in his crisp, piny scent.

“Thank you for telling me,” he squeezes you tighter. “And I know you said life will be different with you and I want to let you know I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, and I know we can work through any problems we may face. You are perfect. Cauldron boil me if I ever so much as think to change a single thing about you.”

And with that, he releases you from his embrace, you wipe the few tears that had welled at his words, and you go home.

[ramirezmindset]

ғᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ.

ʙʀᴀᴅʟᴇʏ ʙʀᴀᴅsʜᴀᴡ x ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ.

→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: as the daughter of pete 'maverick' mitchell, there were certain expectations people had of you, all of which you were determined to defy. however, after a hellbent summer leave of love, loss and heartbreak, you discover you're more like your father than you would've ever imagined.

→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: angst central, reader being a dick, rooster being a dick, mav being a dick, everyone being a dick, break-ups, seggsual innuendos, loss of relationships/persons, platonic male/female friendships, romantic male/female relationships, adult language ↳wc: 2974

FATED TO PRETEND: INTRO & MASTERLIST

Your phone rang on the desk opposite you for the third time. It was a cold day where you were stationed, freezing even, and you were fairly sure that even if you did want to answer that call, your phone would be stuck to the mahogany due to the sub-zero European temperature in your small office.

You already know what he'd say, you could already feel the words penetrating your ears. You didn't want to hear them, couldn't bring yourself to hear them. Maybe if you ignored the phone some more, he would give up and call the next best thing. The phone stopped ringing, and you were granted with a few moments silence. You leant back on the chair, folding your arms over your chest and releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

The wind battered against the flexible glass of the window. You could just make out the faint outline of people on the airstrip, running around and laughing at each other. The pilots down there were fresh, spring-chickens who were so excited for what the future of this career holds. It was your job to keep their excitement palpable, not to tell them the truth, that in sixth months when dicking about is over, they would wish they never joined the Navy in the first place.

The phone rang again. Groaning, you braced your elbows on the desk and stared at the name on the screen.

Dad.

You bit the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you got from your mother. You didn't even realise you had reached for the phone until it was against you ear and your father's voice filled the room.

"God, Y/N! I thought you were dead!" Pete Mitchell said that every time you answered his phone calls. It was routine, almost, you would ignore his first few calls before finally picking up, and he would panic and berate you and you would (insincerely) apologise before letting him say whatever it is he needs to say, and that would be it. He wouldn't call again for three months and then the cycle repeats itself, like a snake eating it's own tail.

"What is it?" You cut to the chase.

"Look, Y/N, you know what I'm gonna say. And I'd rather it be me say it than Admiral Simpson" You sigh down the phone, you could picture your fathers face in your head. Eyebrows furrowed, free hand on hip as he looks down at the ground and back up. Right now, he'd be glancing around the room, trying to make himself look busy to any suspecting on-lookers. "Don't make this hard for me"

"Do I have to?" You ask, biting the skin on your thumb. "Like, is there actually nobody else?"

"You know you have to. Don't pretend you're busy and hang up the phone so you can avoid the conversation, I've already called Ant and he said you were just sat in your office farting about with paperwork" You take a mental note to berate your best friend as soon as this call is over. "Y/N, this is your job. I know you'd rather hide away in some dark corner and teach some morons how to stop and start a plane, but you're better than that. You know it, I know it, Cyclone knows it, and the Navy knows it. That's why we need you here."

"Well, what's in it for me?"

"Bragging rights, I don't know. I don't even know why I'm here, dovey." You close your eyes and sigh at your fathers childhood nickname for you. Your relationship had always been strained, your mother doing everything in her power when you were a child to stop Pete from seeing you. She thought he was dangerous, irresponsible, which are both true, but that never stopped him from showing up at your front door demanding to see his daughter. You were always a daddy's girl, but his unreliability slowly ate away at whatever relationship the two of you shared, him preferring to give all the fatherly love he had in him to his late best friends son, Bradley, who, you had heard, couldn't really stand him either, especially in more recent years.

You felt bad for the guy, you really did, but he did it to himself.

"You don't have a choice here, babe, you either do whatever this is we have to do or you're permanently grounded. I'm on the same terms as you, you know how Cyclone feels about me. We're on the same team"

"I guess" You murmur just as a knock on the door comes. Ant pokes his head round, biting his lip nervously as you hold up a finger, a silent plea for him to give you a minute. "Fine, I'll do it. But if anyone asks, I did this of my own free will and my father did not have to call me begging. That's embarrassing for you"

Pete chuckled down the phone, bidding you a goodbye as you put the phone on your desk and rested your head in the palms of your hands.

"If it's any consolation, I've been called back too" Ant says, snapping you out of your trance. He's behind you now, massaging your shoulders. He's tense too, you can feel it in his movements. "Someone else has been called back as well, I bet Mav didn't mention that on the phone"

"He didn't need to" You reply, craning your neck to look up at him. Ant and you had met years ago when you were both stationed somewhere sunny, neither of you cared enough to remember where. You were both Top Gun graduates, and he was your new back seater after your last guy had a panic attack in the air and quit, much like a story your dad told you about someone he knew years ago.

The two of you regularly joked that you were twin flames, he was a brother from another mother, Sonic and Tails, Femme and Fatale. You could read each other like a book, and he was the first person to not have any expectations of you or your skills in the cockpit after realising who your father was.

Ant smiled lovingly down at you, leaning slightly down to wrap his forearms around you in a hug. You reached up to hold his wrist, leaning back slightly, welcoming the embrace.

"It'll be fine" He murmured, pressing a quick and friendly kiss to your temple before releasing his hold on you. "We're only there for three weeks, it'll be over before you know it, and we'll be back in this shithole teaching these men how to make fire"

You chuckled, nodding along slowly.

"I better pack a bag" You say, pushing yourself out of the chair. "When Top Gun calls, I better come a-running"

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The air is thick and the sun is hot, a sharp contrast to your last location. Ant walks slightly ahead of you, abandoning your duffel bags in the trunk of his car and pushing his sunglasses up his nose. The sound of the waves crashing nearby was somewhat calming in comparison to the pounding in your head. Despite the somewhat idyllic scenery, you would rather be anywhere but here.

Your jeans were sticking to your legs as you felt a bead of sweat roll down your back. You couldn't tell whether it was from nerves or from the blistering heat, either way, you'd rather be somewhere with air conditioning.

"Mav said he'd be in there" Ant says, pointing ahead of him at a beachside bar. The sign read 'The Hard Deck', with small LED planes flying around the slogan, lighting the sand around it blue. Of course your dad would be here, probably scoping out some poor fresh-meat naval aviators to scare the daylights out of.

"Stop talking to my dad" You roll your eyes and walk ahead towards the entrance of the bar as soon as you felt a cool breeze coming from the general vicinity.

"Hey! Maybe if you spoke to him more, I wouldn't have to be the middleman!" Ant hollers from behind you, picking up his pace to catch up with you.

Your dog tags smacked against your chest as you stepped up towards the bar, scouting the room out for any sign of your father. He was on the other side of the bar, tormenting the bartender most likely. Ant waved at him from behind you, gaining his attention as he nodded for the two of you to join him at the other side of the bar.

"Sonic" He nods at Ant. "Dovey" He opens his arms for a hug, a rare sight, and even though every neuron in your brain was screaming at you to leave him standing there with open arms like some sort of theme park attraction, you just couldn't resist a hug from your dad. In his arms, you felt like a little girl again, who's dad didn't hurt her, who's dad didn't run off, who's dad didn't introduce her to the first and only boy to ever break her heart.

"Hi, dad" You say, hugging him round the middle tightly as his hand rubbed your back.

"I got you two a drink" He replies, pulling away from the embrace and sliding two glasses towards you. Ant picks his up, chugging the concoction immediately and scuttling off down the bar, no doubt on purpose. He does this every time, makes some sort of excuse to leave you and your father alone together so he doesn't 1) witness the awkwardness of the interaction, and 2) be caught in the crossfire of the inevitable argument the two of you end up having.

"We don't have to do this, dad" You say, guzzling your own drink before slamming it back down on the bar. Malt whiskey, at least he remembered your drink of choice. "We don't have to attempt to mend whatever this relationship is just because we're working together, because in three weeks I'm gonna be back in Bosnia or wherever it was I was booted off to, and we won't talk for months and it'll just start all over again"

"I'm glad we're on track" He smiled at you, resting a hand on your shoulder, thumping it in a friendly manor. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid" And with that, your father was walking down the bar towards the bartender as you turned around to find Ant at the pool table, with some more aviators in their khaki's.

He nods his head for you to join, but you shake your head and turn back around, leaning your elbows on the bar, losing yourself in your thoughts.

The last time you were at Top Gun, this bar had been less than pretty. It was grotty, sticky floors and all. The jukebox would play the same fragmented verse of some random 80s ballad on repeat, and the place always had an almost fusty smell from years of beer and other spirits being spilt on the floor and bar. The bartender's were just as unrecognisable, and, looking over at your father, you wouldn't be surprised if he had some sort of history with the woman leaning over to ring the bell that sat happily above you.

You chuckled to yourself as a couple men in khaki's hauled your dad out and onto the sand, he probably deserved it. Just as you were about to join Ant, the bartender turned to you.

"Y/N, right?" She smiled at you. You blinked at her and nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "I'm Penny, Pete and I are old friends" She pushed another glass of malt whiskey towards you.

"It's on the house" She continued. "He never stops talking about you" Her eyebrows furrowed, as if waiting for your reaction, but all you did was lift the glass to your lips and raise an eyebrow back.

"Surprising" You reply, putting the glass down. "I never talk about him"

"He said you'd say something like that" You both chuckled. Penny had a comforting aura about her, something motherly and warm. You wondered what someone like her saw in someone like your father. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're dad is a good guy deep down. Took me a while to believe it too. Just- I know you're gonna be working together for the next few weeks, so try not to let the fact that he's sometimes a dick get in the way of whatever it is that you need to do. From what I've heard, you're a fantastic pilot, Mav has some competition"

You smile at her, grateful for her words of wisdom, but just as you open your mouth to reply, the door to the bar swings open and the sounds of cheers from the aviators behind you fill the room.

Suddenly, Ant is behind you, resting his hands either side of you on the bar so you're back is flush with his chest, creating a human shield of some sorts.

"OK, don't look" He says, staring dead ahead. "But Bradley just walked in" Your eyes went wide as Penny pursed her lips and walked off to the other patrons, leaving you pushed up against the bar nursing a drink. "He has a-" Ant cuts himself off, furrowing his eyebrows. "He has a pornstache?"

"What?" You reply, ducking under his arm to escape his embrace before he could stop you.

Immediately, your eyes were attached to the tallest man in the bar, you wouldn't have missed him even if you were blindfolded. He was more muscular than the last time you saw him, and his hair was slightly golden, like it always was when he spent too much time in the sun, telling you he had been here for a while. Those stupid aviator glasses were still plastered to his face, like they had been for the last decade, and he was still sporting Hawaiian shirts like they were going out of fashion. His clothes hugged him deliciously, and you're suddenly reminded of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

Ant was right, he had grown a pornstache, and you hated to admit it, but you don't think you had ever seen him look so good. It had been five years since you saw him last, five years since your relationship had ended. Your father had introduced you two at some Navy event just after you had graduated from Top Gun. You knew who he was, of course, you had seen photos of him hung around your dad's apartment, you were fairly sure Pete had more pictures of him than he did you.

He smiled at you, with that stupid fucking smile, and immediately you were a goner. He introduced himself, offering you a glass of champagne and a seat at the table next to him, and for four months after that you were inseparable. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, and he looked at you like he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. He was the first, and only man, you had loved fully, with every little bit of your heart and soul, so much so that he was the first face to appear in your head when you woke up, and the last face you pictured before you fell asleep.

You hadn't seen him since he broke your heart half a decade ago, leaving you a shell of yourself for no apparent reason other than the fact that he 'couldn't make it work.' To this day, you don't know what 'it' is, what 'it' he was referring to, you can only imagine he was talking about long distance, your jobs constantly forcing you to be apart, but the years of maturing and growth made you see the bigger picture. He just didn't want you anymore. He had had his fun, he had dicked about with Pete Mitchell's daughter, became a naval celebrity, and then fucked off when the novelty of you had worn off.

"Earth to Y/N!" Ant bellowed, waving his hand in your face. You were snapped out of your trance. "I said do you wanna leave?"

You shook your head, nervously fiddling with the dog tags around your neck. "No, it's ok. Just- we'll avoid him" Ant nodded, passing you the drink you had abandoned haphazardly on the bar. You drank the rest of its contents, watching Bradley like a hawk.

Ant scoffed next to you, he knew what you meant by 'avoiding' him, you would sit at the bar, keeping your distance but your eyes locked on him until he noticed you. And when he would notice you, you would crap yourself and leave and then cry yourself to sleep as Ant would nurse you when you dry heaved from sobbing. He had been here one too many times before, Bradley's name has to merely come up in conversation for you to spiral.

"Sonic, I'm serious" You say, turning your back to Bradley and leaning on the bar once again. "Me and you are gonna have fun, and then we're gonna go back to the apartment and order a pizza and then go to bed. I'm not letting some man get me down-"

You're cut off by the sound of the piano behind you, and you don't even need to turn around to know that it's Bradley's fingers expertly playing the keys, and you don't even need to turn around to know that your dad is probably pressed up against the window paying more attention to the guy at the piano than his daughter who's drinking her own sorrows at the bar.

Ant sighed. "If you say so."

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋♡𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 [Intro]

"I dont care how many names you've screamed in the past; tonight, you're screaming mine."

Or alternatively: you're moving away in a week, and that gives Jungkook seven days to try and make you stay instead.

Tags/Warnings: Fuckboy!Jungkook, Fuckgirl!Reader, Angst, Misunderstandings, Friends/Enemies to lovers, Very suggestive, adult, hurt and comfort, smut, did I mention angst? It's worth it in the end tho promise

Length: didn't count I wrote this while watching anime oops

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Hello boo haha

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

There's not much you can really say about him that's not just absolutely confusing.

Well- maybe you also kind of are at fault for making things so confusing in the first place, because down the line, everything about this mess is kind of your own fault.

Jungkook knows you as loud, happy, sexy and open-minded. You dress like a barbie, you laugh without trying to appear a certain way, and you know when to act dumb to get your way. He also knows you as sexually adventurous, active, and open for everything if it fits within your own personal boundaries. He himself considers himself a hedonist after all- he chases the purest forms of pleasure, be it sexual or platonic. It's a little cute how he can find a certain sense of fullfillment and happiness from just being hugged or talked to- though you know that he's also very aware of his own charms, and knows when to weaponize them.

He takes good care of himself- something you don't see often to this extend in guys his age. They typically aren't at that stage yet where they realize that their body is something to be cared for to keep it healthy for a long time- and if they do care about their body, they end up almost obsessed with it, never thinking about anything else, suddenly only looking at everything from a purely aesthetic perspective.

He's odd. But in a certain way, he's exactly what you knew you'd end up crushing on. Hard.

And that's the problem. He really, Really wants to hook up with you.

Now that's good, right? Who would say no to their crush asking to fuck them- it's a jackpot, really, is it not? He's also very obvious with his interest beyond just sex as well- he constantly flirts, invites you to his place, or visits yours. He pays for any food you both get together, he visits the movie theater with you, holds your hand in a cheesy way just to make you blush, calls you baby, darling, princess and so much more. So what's the fucking issue?

The issue is that you're an absolute fraud.

You never have wild dates or exciting sex. You never actually experienced most of the stories you've made him believe, and you most certainly aren't more experienced than him. In fact-

you've never had sex. At all.

You're a virgin.

And Jungkook thinks you're an experienced sex-goddess. Because that's what you want him to believe. That's what you made him believe.

It really started with simple white lies- whenever your apartment was cluttered to the point that it made you embarrassed to invite him in, you'd just hiss out the door that you had someone over. Then it evolved into trying to impress him with made up experiences, just to fall into conversation with him.

And suddenly, it all got out of control.

Now you've created a whole entire persona that isn't actually real at all- and it seems like that'll ruin all your chances with him for good. Though, if you think about it, you have to admit, that if he fell for your made-up-character,

did he even fall for you at all?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I mean that's cool and all but-" Jungkook says as he walks next to you, hands in his pockets. "-how're you gonna travel every day from Seoul to Busan? That's two and a half hours with KTX." He mumbles, looking out for you by gently pushing you closer by your shoulder to make way for a bike riding past you.

You hate how domestic it feels. Like he's your boyfriend or something.

"Uhm yeah well-" you mumble, looking down at the tips of your babypink heels. "-that's why I'm moving. To Busan." You admit, and it's silent for a moment while you both walk around the park together.

You're not sure what he's thinking. Is he giving up? Sure, that would hurt, but it's also for the best. In busan you can start over, away from all the lies you've made up here-

"How can I make you stay?" He asks suddenly, and you re not sure if you've heard him correctly.

"What?" You ask because of that, and he shrugs.

"How can I make you stay?" He repeats. " I can't leave Seoul because of my job and all- but I know that you've got the option to stay here instead of being transferred to Busan." He explains. "I'm not sure why you want to leave, and it's none of my business- so instead I wanna know what I can do to make you stay instead."

"Why would I stay?" You just answer, hands behind your back as you jump a bit with every step next to him, trying to mask your nervousness with your usual childish acting. "You can just fuck someone else and forget about me." You laugh, when his hand reaches out to hold onto your bra strap, keeping you still as you stop walking. "Hey-!" You bark, until you see his face.

"I don't wanna forget about you." He tells you. "And I don't just want to fuck you either." He denies, looking at you now in a more serious manner.

"Well you're gonna have to." You shrug, crossing your arms.

"How long?" He asks suddenly, a challenging glint in his gaze as he crosses his arms as well, muscles in his arms defined as the fabric of the sleeves of his black T-Shirt stretch around his biceps.

"How long what?" You bite back equally as petty in tone.

"How long until you move?" He asks, chin up as he watches down towards you.

"A week-" you start, and he suddenly smirks impishly, before he reaches out to playfully tap underneath your chin, the gesture catching you off guard.

"That's enough time." He chirps happily, starting to walk again, a newfound confidence in his step.

"Enough time for what?" You wonder as you call after him, turning around to look at him.

"Enough time to make you stay." He boldly exclaims back-

Leaving you with an odd feeling in your stomach.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Don’t Be Embarrassed

————————————————————————

summary: after a sex marathon with your husband joe the previous night, you head downstairs for breakfast and have a seriously awkward interaction with his parents.

(this is a tiny part 2 to - part one)

warnings: talks about sex, no actual smut

pairing: joe burrow x reader

————————————————————————

(y/n's pov)

when my alarm went off at 8, i immediately hit snooze.

i wanted to go back to sleep but remembered the plane that joe and i were going to have to catch in just a couple hours, so i slipped out of bed.

joe was still dead asleep, looking incredibly peaceful.. so i left him alone.

the first thing i did was get dressed in my traveling outfit, and putting my hair in a messy bun before i made my way downstairs.

"mommy!!" - savanna jumped off the couch and came flying towards you

"good morning sweetie, how'd you sleep?" - you picked her up and put her on your hip

"good, i had good dream." - savanna

"what was your dream about?" - you

"dada bought me puppy!" - savanna

"he did?? what did you name your puppy?" - you

"uh, i dont remember.." - savanna

"oh you don't remember.. okay. what would you name your puppy if you got one?" - you

"marr!" - savanna

"oh my gosh, you'd name it after ja'marr??" - you

"yup. put me down? i want to play with my barbies!" - savanna

"yes, of course." - you sat her down

i watched sam run up the stairs to her room before i walked into the kitchen. robin was cooking and jimmy was drinking coffee while sitting at the island.

when i walked over to the fridge to grab a water i noticed both of them giving me weird looks.

"what?" - you laughed nervously

"did you sleep good last night?" - robin smiled

"yeah actually, i didn't even hear you guys come in. i was dead asleep." - you

liar.

"mhm." - robin looked at jimmy for a second then turned back to you

this interaction was really weird so i was more than thankful when i saw joe walking downstairs and into the kitchen.

"morning guys" - joe smiled

"morning, joey!" - robin gave joe the same weird look

"what's that look?" - joe laughed

"nothing." - robin grinned

joe looked at me confused but i returned the look of pure confusion.

"did you sleep good?" - joe asked, trying to start conversation and end the silence

"mhm." - you pulled him into a hug

joe kissed my head, as i laid against his chest. robin and jimmy were still looking at us with weird smiles on their faces so we quickly pulled away from each other.

"what time did you two end up going to bed last night?" - jimmy

"uh, i don't really know. i was asleep before you guys got here. do you know?" - joe

"uh, nope." - you

"that's kinda weird because we heard quite the commotion last night" - robin

both joe and i tensed up, not knowing what to do.

"you guys know the guest room is right under the master bedroom, right?" - jimmy

"oh god." - joe sighed

"so you guys.." - you

"heard y'all? yup. coulda gone my whole life without hearing that." - jimmy

"oh my god." - you covered your face with your hands

"it's fine though, don't be embarrassed. it's not like we didn't know you guys engage in that.. activity. i mean you guys have a kid so we kinda knew.." - robin

"yeah you guys are married adults, don't be embarrassed. but, joe honey you sound like a cat dying.” - jimmy

"i don't think i sound that bad..." - joe mumbled

"he’s overreacting, joe. after i heard it though, and well realized what i was hearing i put my noice cancelling headphones on.” - robin

"all i had were pillows to put over my ears, thank god i was super tired and fell asleep quickly. i’d probably end up sleeping in the car.” - jimmy

"but really, don't be embarrassed. you guys are young and having fun." - robin

"okay, sorry about that though." - you

"it's fine." - robin smiled

"yeah guys, it's all good, i'm only slightly traumatized." - jimmy

"jim." - robin rolled her eyes

"as much as i'm loving this conversation about our sex life.. i'm gonna grab some toast and finish packing." - joe

"i'll be up there in a second!" - you told joe as he grabbed a plate of toast and started walking back upstairs

thank god that joe’s parents love me, plus i’ve already got the ring on my finger so there’s no getting rid of me.

————————————————————————

authors note: small little part two as a goodnight!!

hope you enjoyed! ❤️

[writtingcorvus]

thoughts on tbhk manga

just some days ago i read this series, so there are a lot of things that are on my mind especially after seeing other people theories and stuff, so here i'm gonna ramble a bit about them KDNDLDMF

1. so, i have seen a lot of theories of amane's injuries being bc of the clock. but i don't really think that makes sense timewise.

i assumed that the year amane is fixing the clock is 1968 and when we see him injured is 1969. in chapter 101 the announcement says that the first year middle school play and then comes this conversation,,,

so is their class that's doing the play. and since the festival is at the end of summer and they are in their first year (if they are from the class presenting the play) it must be 1968. and he had to have it moving before that years school festival ended,,, so it being the reason for his injuries is highly unlikely imo (well, except he is refering to the 1969 CF, that is an option, but isn't it weird?)

that takes us back to then who or what is actually harming him? i have 2 theories for that. the first one is that it was tsukasa, but it was to provoke amane..

we have seen tsukasa's reaction when he gets to know that his brother is going to kill him, so maybe since they both were close to 13, he has been trying to trigger amane to DO THE THING, trying to get to know that part of his brother, what would push his buttons enough for him to actually do that?

my other option is that it's the mother, afterall she was scared of tsukasa, maybe she started to take her fear on them and since amane is also suspicious, he would understand his mother and forgive her

i haven't seen this idea so idk what you guys think

2. what is it really that the clock-keepers changed? a lot of people speculate that they keep baby tsukasa in the house, but we are shown after n° 1 loops a clock with 1968 written on it, so is logical to assume that's the year they change something.

From that, if we take into account that's the year amane was fixing the clock, maybe he originally did change something when he traveled through time (even if tsukasa says that nothing came of it, implying he couldn't even fix the clock) and that's what n°1 changed, he made amane do something different in 1968 that made a change in the past, but then who told adult amane 4 y/o self about the change in time? his middle school self that traveled? the red house thing?

3. ALSO IN CHAPTER 101 there's this ghost? that talks to nene about an accident in the CF so WHAT ABOUT THAT? WHY NO ONE TALKS ABOUT THAT?

WHAT IF this accident is related to the time change somehow come on guyssss think with me

other thing that has been bothering me is that in the wikis (eng and esp) it says that the yugi twins birthday is in 1955, but in chapter 78 it says that in 1960 is their 4th birthday, so shouldn't they be born in 1956? i don't know if i'm just to dumb to fucking do math or what but wth

[polyklok]

Omg omg i love your writing!!! No words can describe how much I love it!

Imagine muderface with a s/o or crush that says the weirdest stuff, like some stuff that they have been through. It is so random! Like those tik toks that say "the Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do is die" in the most randomest of situations.

Like imagine just chilling out doing nothing and y/n looks over at muderface and says "would a zombie apocalypse be a formal event? Like your buried in your best clothes?"

It woukd very so cool if you could write something for this but if you don't want to that's cool!

Just wanted to share my thoughts. No one I know watches Metalocalypse.

Thank you!!!

Have a wonderful day or night!!

(I didn't really check my grammar or spelling that well, I am sorry)

Murderface with an S/O that says ~random~ things!

“The color is actually named after the fruit.”

You baffle him daily. He never asked to be spoonfed random trivia, shower thoughts, or absurd hypothetical questions. And yet, here he was, eating it all up.

When William was first met with your verbal hijinks, he was just so, so confused. Why did you know this? Why were you telling him this?

“What?”

“Orange. Like, people just described the color as yellow-red or something before the orange fruit was spread around Europe and they got a new word for it. The color is named after the fruit.”

“…Okay???”

For a while, he thought you were trying to give him clues about something. He was just extremely suspicious of you. Like, surely there had to be a reason behind it, right? Well, no, and he soon just found it was a quirk of yours.

He was always told to shut up whenever he tried to pipe in or had an interesting fact to share, so you defying one of the fundamental rules of his life is a bit jarring.

As he grows closer and more comfortable to you, he gets used to your pondering and even begins to consider them. Maybe you have a point?

“What’s the minimum amount of ducks do you think it would take to fully kill an adult rhino?”

“I don’t fuchkin’ know. Probably a schit ton.”

“I bet, like, five. They’d just swarm him.”

“You are scho wrong. He’d schtomp them all to a pashte.”

Well now he’s gonna stay awake all night thinking about it. He can’t decide if you’re the stupidest person he’s ever met or the smartest. Either way, he gets a little flustered when facing the seemingly infinite expanse of your mind.

After a while, he begins to pick up your habit. In his own Murderface-way, of course. He had a pretty obvious interest in things like car mechanics and war history, but now he’s more willing to share all of what he knows with you. He’s really excited that someone finally seems interested in what he has to say, no matter how meaningless it is.

And once that door is open, he becomes more willing to open up on a deeper level. Even though he’s a dumbass, he does have a depth of intelligence, even if he isn’t great at articulating it. Be patient and you’ll get some fascinating conversation from him.

“Even if there isch a God…like, what the fuck, man?! You juscht gonna leave us all down here to suffer and schit? I might as well ignore you juscht to schpite you! What a dick move.”

William never realized how valuable it was to him just to be listened to. Simply talking to you slowly becomes one of the better parts of his day, everyday.

It takes a lot for Murderface to love and it takes even more to love him back. But the effort is well worth it with these types of riveting discussions;

“You have to fight a bug that’s 100 times its original size and you get one weapon from the medieval era. What is your bug and what’s your weapon?”

“Easchy. Butterfly, Croschbow. One arrow for each wing. Instant win.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Changing Minds - Part 8

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Mild violence and mentions of blood. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

The day of the Tea Party you hold Nick’s hand as much as you can in the car. While it’s impossible to really have a plan for what’s going to happen, you’ve talked through some plans for what to do if things go bad. Nick made sure you memorized the directions to the nearby Cairo Hotel and to ask for the manager, Jonathan Pine. As a fail-safe Nick had reserved a room under both of your names.

Nick parks the car but stops you from getting out. He gently holds your chin and, eyes full of worry, he pleads, “promise me, if anything happens, you’ll get out. Don’t stop or try to help me. You just get the hell out of there.”

“It wouldn’t look good if your girlfriend just bolted,” you argue.

“If things go south there’s gonna be a lot of chaos and a lot of things could go bad,” he asserts. “You run to the hotel. I’ll do better if I know you’re safe. Please.”

“I can’t promise that, Nick,” you object. “Believe it or not, I do actually care about you and don’t want you killed because I decided to provoke him.” Nick’s eyes widen at your confession so you continue, “it’s not romantic care. Not right now. But we’ve been friendly for so long, I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt to lose you.”

“Thank you for that,” he whispers. “But I can’t let you go to this party unless you promise me you’ll take care of yourself first.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But I get to decide what taking care of myself first looks like.”

“I suppose that’ll have to do,” he smiles softly. “You can be so delightfully stubborn.”

Part of you wants to believe he is interested in being more than just friends. That his words are heartfelt compliments. You brush those thoughts away and mumble, “let’s just get this over with.”

You’re a little disappointed that the rooftop garden is so much a garden as it is a rooftop lawn. There aren’t any plants aside from grass and some plain green bushes that have been trimmed into neat, orderly box shapes. The only color is provided by the pink tablecloths that adorn the few designated eating areas. It makes you wonder if your dress is out of place and too colorful for the occasion. 

There were other people already in attendance. A small group of young ladies posing for their phones, smiling and laughing. A few gentlemen who were clearly dragged along by the young ladies, sitting and grumpily staring at their phones, occasionally discussing whatever it is rich young people discuss. And Clark Kent, directing the catering staff and telling the bartender to not let his nephew have more than two drinks. 

Being the polite guests that you are, you and Nick make sure to tell Clark that you’ve arrived. He plasters on his best fake smile to greet you, not even bothering to look at Nick. 

“Ah, sweet Lady, you brighten this party with your presence,” he schmoozes, taking your hand to kiss it. “Sincerely, I feel out of place with all of these young ones. It’s nice to have someone mature to have a conversation with.”

“Yes, Nick and I do seem to be the only adults on the guest list,” you comment. “Are you hosting this for someone else?”

Clark sighs, “my nephew is trying to impress his girlfriend. Apparently she’s trying to make it big on Instagram, or whatever. He’s hoping attending a party hosted by Clark Kent will be good for her profile and, thus, good for him.”

“Ah,” you smile. “Kids in love are so adorable.”

Clark scoffs, “it isn’t ‘love’ it’s just horny college boy stuff.”

“Oh,” your smile falls. “He told you as such?”

“No, but I remember being that age,” he retorts. “All that’s on his mind is getting laid.”

“I remember being that age as well,” Nick interrupts. “And I remember thinking it was love.”

“And clearly it wasn’t,” Clark rebutted. “Or else you wouldn’t be here with this lovely Lady today.”

“Not all love can be true love,” Nick countered. “But it can still be real. You take the lessons you learn from that love and apply them to the next, in an effort to keep it.” He looks at you, eyes soft, yet steely with determination. “Maybe it’ll even become a true love with time and work.”

“Agree to disagree, I suppose,” Clark rolls his eyes as he smiles. “I’ll believe in love when it actually happens.”

“Given how things worked out for us, I’m inclined to agree with Nick,” you banter. “Sometimes life makes us too cynical, too hard on ourselves, to see real love. I think it’s why I adore when younger people are in love. It’s so cute and pure. But, this is clearly something we’re not all going to agree on so how about we just enjoy the food, drink and company?”

Nick kisses the back of your hand, “my Lady is so very wise.”

“Agreed,” Clark hums. “Feel free to partake of any of the food and drink that interest you. And do let me know how you like it. I need to make sure to leave feedback for the caterer.”

About an hour into the party you find yourself enjoying the company of the younger folk. They’re a lot like the young people you work with and you almost feel like “the cool aunt” with how willing they are to open up to you, how they light up when you ask more about their ideals and dreams. Nick stays with you and follows your lead. He hasn’t seen you so relaxed and happy in a while and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way. 

He also keeps an eye on Clark, who is sulking near the bar. You’d clearly been invited to keep him company but you’re enjoying the company of everyone else. Nick’s lost track of the number of refills Clark’s gotten on his drink but it’s definitely been enough to start affecting him. The casual observer might be fooled but Nick notices the slight tells of Clark being buzzed, closing in on drunk. 

To be honest, though, a drunk Clark Kent isn’t Nick’s primary concern; it’s the Instagram girl constantly taking photos and videos. Nick doesn’t care much for putting his face out in public but the young lady is insistent on getting everyone in view. He’s grateful when you comment about him being painfully camera shy and go out of your way to block his face when you can. 

At least until the Instagram girl tells all of her followers how much fun you are. When that pronouncement comes out everyone hears Clark shout, “she’s supposed to be talking with me! Not you young idiots!” He comes storming over to you and Nick immediately jumps in his way, hands out in a calming, placating manner.

“Mr. Kent,” Nick entreats, “you’ve had a lot to drink today. Please take a breath and consider what–” He’s interrupted by a punch to the face. 

“NICK!” You immediately run to him to see if he’s okay. 

Your scream seems to pierce Clark’s drunken state and he shakes his head trying to clear it. That’s when he sees the phone is still out. Still live-streaming. He looks over to you and Nick and closes the distance to punch Nick again, this time putting him on the ground.

“You did this on purpose,” Clark shouts. “You set me up for ruin with your schemes and plots!”

“Mr. Kent,” you scold, “we are your guests. You invited us here and we’ve been nothing but polite.”

“You should leave,” Clark snarls. You take a step back, startled by the rage in his face. 

Nick is up and grabs your shoulder, pulling you behind him. “He’s right, we should leave.” He keeps between you and Clark as you head towards the stairs to get to the elevator. Once inside you see the blood draining from Nick’s nose and get some things from your purse to try to clean him up. As much as he wants to enjoy your caring touch, he has to keep alert. Especially when the “express” elevator stops early. 

The door opens and a small group of burly men gesture for you to step out with them. Nick looks at you and whispers, “remember the plan.” You nod and Nick throws himself at the small posse. 

You hit the “Close Doors” button and stay out of sight until the doors close. You stay in that spot until the doors open at the lobby and you rush out. Your entire system is on high alert but you have to pretend to be calm as you walk through the lobby. You don’t want to draw attention. Silently you thank Nick for making you memorize the path to the hotel as it becomes the mantra for your brain, keeping you from panicking. 

The Cairo Hotel lobby is immaculate and you do feel a little safer just for being there. You approach the front desk and shakily ask to see Jonathan Pine, the Manager. The woman behind the desk gives you a once over but goes to get him. You keep looking to the hotel entrance, hoping to see Nick, afraid to see Clark. You’re certain Nick is strong and capable; Teach said he’s one of their best security people. It’s why he was called in to protect a witness. You’re still very scared for him, though.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a polite cough from behind the desk. A tall, lean man with blondish brown hair and blue eyes is smiling politely, “you asked for me?”

“Y–yes,” you start, “I was told by Nick Fowler to come and ask for you?”

Mr. Pine’s eyes flicker with recognition at the name, “ah, yes. Mr. Fowler speaks highly of you. Please come with me so we can get you taken care of.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As he begins to lead you away you hear your name being shouted from the hotel entrance. You’re not sure if he followed you or if this place just made sense, but it’s clear Clark is very angry with you.

“You owe me an apology and an explanation,” he shouts as he storms towards you. 

Mr. Pine steps in front of you and calmly tells Clark that he needs to leave. “I will not have a disturbance at my hotel, Mr. Kent. I will especially not tolerate any violence or threats of violence against one of my guests.”

“She’s not a guest,” Clark spits. “She can’t afford a place like this! I’ve seen her pay statements! She’d be lucky to be able to afford a half hour here!”

“She is a registered guest at this hotel, Mr. Kent, and I will not let you threaten her.”

“This is bullshit! I’ve done nothing but be kind to her and she’s ruined my reputation!”

“Your quarrel, legitimate or otherwise, has no bearing here, Mr. Kent. She is a guest, she is under my protection.”

“Oh fuck you,” Clark snaps before throwing a punch at Mr. Pine. Mr. Pine easily dodges, grabs Clark’s arm and maneuvers him into a wristlock, causing Clark to let out a bark of pain.

“Miranda,” Mr. Pine addresses the hotel clerk. “Please escort the Lady to the Cleopatra Suite while I call the police.”

Miranda nods and gestures for you to follow her.

+++++++++

You spend the next hour pacing the hotel room you were brought to. It’s a smaller, windowless suite that makes you think it’s specifically set aside for emergencies. There’s a mini-bar but you have no stomach for food or drink. You’re all nerves and keep pacing as much as you can. You wish Nick were here. It wouldn’t be enough for someone to tell you he’s okay, you need to actually see him, feel him, know he’s still alive. 

The past few weeks have been a tumultuous mess and Nick quickly became your safety net, your safe haven, your reliable partner. You’d started craving his reassuring touch, his comforting whispers in your ear. You swear to yourself that if Nick makes it through this you’re gonna tell him about your feelings. About how you want it to be real. Hopefully he’ll let you down gently. 

A tone from your phone gets you to stop pacing. You find a text from Nick, “about to knock on the door.” Sure enough, there’s a knock. You still make sure to check that it’s him through the peephole, just to be safe. You almost start crying when you see him on the other side of the door.

Flinging the door open you pull Nick inside with you, slam the door shut and pull him in for a kiss. Initially thrown off, he softens into the kiss and holds you tight. When you pull away for a breath you whisper, “you’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay. Didn’t realize how much I needed you to be okay.”

“Yeah, sweet Lady, I’m okay,” he assures. 

When you pull away again you gasp at how beaten up he looks. He quickly tells you he’s had worse, that he’ll be okay in a few days, but you barely hear him. 

“Have you seen a doctor? Nick, you might have a concussion, or broken bones, or something worse!”

“I needed to make sure you were okay first,” he confesses as he kisses you again. “Couldn’t stand the thought of you being caught.” Another kiss. “Needed to hold you again, just to be sure.” You welcome the kisses and return them with a fervor that encourages Nick to keep going. “Couldn’t go to a doctor until I heard your voice again.”

“I felt the same,” you admit between kisses. “I never want to go through that again. I need you, Nick.”

“Need me?” He gently pulls away from you, eyes searching your face. 

“Yes, Nick,” you breathe. “I’ve always felt safe with you, enjoyed your company and the past few weeks have just cemented that. I want you around. I need your touch, your comforting words and presence. Please.”

“I’ll happily be yours,” he affirms. “And if I wasn’t worried about getting blood on your gorgeous body I’d take you here and now.”

You can’t hold back a small moan at the thought of Nick’s expert lips on other parts of your body and he smiles before wincing at the pain it causes in his split lip. That elicits a small chuckle from you, “we really should get you to a hospital, Nick.”

“Will you hold my hand while they patch me up,” he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m not a fan of hospitals and could use the comfort of your touch to help keep me calm.”

“Gladly, Nick.”

He kisses the back of your hand, “thank you, my gracious Lady.”

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@alicedopey

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@terry2227

@texmexdarling

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

[dixonsgirl93]

Opposites and Opportunities (Sfw)

Merle x ace fem!reader

:Request from anon:

A/N: I've stated before that I personally am not ace, nor do I know anyone who is. I hope I did this enough justice. Feedback would be appreciated so I can improve. Thank you and enjoy!

"Listen, Merle. You're wasting your efforts on me. I'm not interested." You turn to fully face him now. "And it's not because of your charmingly brash personality or your wickedly handsome face. That sort of thing just doesn't interest me." You turn away again.

"Doesn't interest you, huh? What? Having a good time is not something you like?" Merle called after you from the stairs.

You sigh and face him again. "Sex. I mean sex. I've never cared for it. All right?" You feel yourself go red in the face and then silently berate yourself. So what if you didn't like the idea of sex? It's nothing to be ashamed about, you remind yourself.

"Maybe you just haven't met the right guy yet!" He continued and you resigned yourself to the fact he was really not gonna let this go.

"People always say that. As if sex is so important to be having in your adult life. Maybe I don't want to find the right man. Maybe for the last few years I've tried to like the idea because everyone around me and the media has told me I should? I've only recently come to terms with who I am and no one...no one...is going to change me."

Merle held up his hands (metal and normal) in surrender and smirked. "I didn't mean any harm, babygirl. I can't say I understand though." He rested his arms on the pole in front of him again and looked down at you.

"You don't have to understand it, just respect it." You walk away, back to your cell.

~~

Later that day Merle finds you outside and approaches you.

"Hey. Mind if I join yer?" He asks. You motion for him to sit and does and looks out at the darkness. "Do you think it's more or less scary when you can't see 'em out there?" He nods towards the fences.

You follow his gaze and think about it. "Depends which side of the fence you're on." You reply.

Merle chuckles. "Good answer." He pauses. "So anyway, about our conversation earlier, about you not liking sex...uh, why not? I mean, have you always felt that way?" You see genuine curiosity in his eyes and it surprises you. He actually wants to learn.

You look down at the table and frown, thinking about how to phrase your answer. "I can't really explain it, it just...doesn't appeal to me. It seems kinda gross, honestly. Sharing so many bodily fluids." You make a face at the thought.

Merle watches your reaction. "So...you're a germaphobe? Is that it? God help you in this mess. Walker fluids are worse, honey." He laughs to himself, again looking out at the fence. It was too dark to see anything and you wondered how many walkers were standing just out of reach.

You can’t help but smile at his answer. “Well, that is true. It’s not just the germs though, the whole act of…” You gesture wildly with your hands. “…of sex, that I don’t like.”

Merle watched you try to explain and looked away again. “I still don’t get it. Maybe I’m just too horny to.” He chuckles and shrugs. “But hey, you do you, I guess.”

“Thanks.” You say and place a hand on his metal arm. “I underestimated you. I didn’t think you’d…be so understanding. I especially didn’t think you’d be so curious about it.” You say, looking in the distance.

There’s a short pause. “Gotta be honest, I thought you were lying at first to get me off ya back. I’d get it. I can be a lot for some folk.”

You look at him for a moment but say nothing. What could you say to that? It was true and it felt like he was opening up to you. You knew it must be a rare thing too, knowing the kind of person he was, or at least, who he showed the world he was.

“I still…” You begin to say and then pause, wondering if it was a good idea to divulge this information. “I still feel romantic attraction.” You admit.

“Oh yeah? That’s where I fail. Don’t think I can do that mushy crap.”

“To quote you earlier 'maybe you just haven't met the right person'." You look at him knowingly, with a smirk. Merle turns to you laughs.

"Hell, maybe you're right." He admits. "Even less of a chance to find her now though, don't ya think?" His expression turned sombre for just a moment.

"True." There's a long moment of silence again, just sitting in each other's company, letting the weight of the moment sink in. "Maybe there's still a chance. I mean, we're not dead yet." You smiled encouragingly at him but you couldn't quite feel the hope for a future like that in your heart.

Merle just chuckled and stood up. "Anyway, thanks for the chat, Y/N. Have a good night." He winked and walked back inside.

[camywamycam]

what was left behind in the rubble P.3

702 words

soon to be harry x reader 

TW//WRITTEN AT 4 AM BY A SLEEP DEPRIVED TEEN!!!

A/N

I know this is a short chapter and im sorry 😭 I finished writing this at 4 am because I can only write at night since I'm with my mom and siblings all day and I refuse to write in front of them 😭 maybe it wasnt a good idea to start a full ass fanfic story with a plot 2 weeks before I leave for summer camp but yolo, ive decided im gonna have this fic go from the summer - hoggwarts and y/n will start acting a lot more like Sirius iykwim 

y/ns pov

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

If you had been in the right mindset, you would have impatiently pushed Remus away the second he stepped foot into your room. However, at that moment, all you needed was a hug. You clung onto the soft fabric of his cable knit sweater, which carried the strong scent of chocolate, cigars, and parchment. Remus held you firmly in his arms, patiently waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to open up about your thoughts.

"I hate him," you said in a broken voice.

"You don't mean that," Remus replied, his uncertainty evident in his words. "He loves you, he just... doesn't know the right way to express himself, that's all."

"Well, he obviously doesn't have that problem with Potter," you spat, your voice tinged with envy. "When I traveled all the way to Europe to see my biological father, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't be a total dick."

Remus sat and listened attentively as you rambled, finally realizing how left out you had truly been. The other children never spoke to you, and neither did the adults, except for the usual greetings. The more he spoke to you, the more he learned about your experiences. He discovered that while you were neglected at Grimlands place, you had met a group of muggles who had welcomed you into their friend group so at least you hadn't been totally alone. In the mere 45 minutes of conversation, Remus had already learned more about you than your very own father.

You and Remus continued to chat throughout the night in the room which you had made your own. For the first time in a while when you woke up that morning you didn't feel absolutely terrible. you turned to your side and checked your phone notifications before getting ready for the day.

you tried to sprint down the stairs as quietly as possible knowing the other adults in the house wouldn't be so happy about you sneaking off to hang around strange people whom they knew nothing about. It was almost comical how much they tried to control you when you and they both knew they didn't care about you in the slightest. As you raced down the stairs you bumped into a pale boy with messy black hair and glasses that were a tad bit too large for his face. "black." he spat "potter." "and where do you think you are going?" he said sassily 

harrys pov

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

it was strange seeing y/n actually dressed. since none of the kids went outside we mostly stayed in our lounging clothes. I took note of y/ns red top, flared jeans, a jean jacket that was covered in patches, and Converse. She actually looked quite nice... but I would never admit that. 

"out." that's all she said as she tried pushing past me. I grabbed a hold of her wrist "What's your problem? You've been acting rude ever since you got here. You could at least try to talk to your dad." she scoffed in my face "Oh I've tried. he's the one who doesn't want me here." "Maybe he would actually like you if you weren't such a bitch." I was shocked at the words falling from my mouth. did I say that out loud? my thoughts were confused as y/n turned around and punched me square in the nose. Adults rushed in as they heard me fall into a vase smashing it while holding my bloody nose. Mrs. Weasly scolded y/n “what on earth have you done!” she screamed at y/n but she just looked around with a red face and big eyes as she rushed towards the door slamming it shut, not that anyone cared.

"don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry," you thought to yourself as you ran to your friends' house. luckily she asked no questions and just welcomed you in with open arms. you eventually told her what had happened at Grimmlands place and she was pissed. both her parents said you could stay with them as long as you needed. they even let you move into the guest room so you wouldn't have to continue sleeping on your friend's floor. you know that you can't stay here long since school is starting soon, but you might as well enjoy it while you can.

tag list 

@moonys0chocolate @venomsvl  @quackitysdrugdealer @superduckmilkshake

[diabolicalcunt]

I feel the need to pin this cause I’ve always been notorious for people loving me when they first meet me, and then finding out that my political views are not extremely liberal. So here’s all the reasons you will hate me once you get to know me. Or not. I honestly don’t care I’m just sick of the ‘You aren’t who I made you out be in my head!’ conversations.

So my unpopular opinions in no order-

1. They/them is something that’s being encouraged by big brother to see yourself as non or less human.

2. DID isn’t real and you just disassociate a specific way. I look like I’ve been drugged cause I fall down ‘inside’ myself like a well and have no reaction time and can barely speak. I’m like a sloth. You pretend to be a anime character. It’s just coping.

3. The concept of trans genocide is fear mongering by big brother and means to keep boundaries between social groups.

4. To build off 3, the push to medically transition underage children is a move by big pharmaceutical companies to create a permanent customer. Because whether you decide to stay transitioned or de transition, you’re going to be on medication for the rest of your life whether you like it or not. There’s also the whole issue with child exploitation. You’ll be judgmental against Dance Moms, but you won’t say anything about a mom who transitioned her child when they were two years old and made them a social media star.

5. Trans men and women who have been charged with a crime belong in LGBT prison wings. Because we have created a culture where male rapists can put on its dress and be rewarded with a permanent stay in the hen house where they can victimize more women and the system will just cry transphobia and call the victims liars. You got a problem with that? I have never seen a trans man pushing to get put in men’s prison. I wonder why… 😐

6. Blair White is queen.

7. I will fight Henry Cavill on sight. I don’t give a shit how bad you want motorboat him. He’s a fucking pedophile.

8. Same goes for David Bowie. When I get to the afterlife I’m gonna make him wish he could die again. Ask me if you want my full on sight list. 😂

9. I stand with Palestine. Yes I think Islam is a horrible religion that is anti woman. I still don’t think kids should die for the grievances of adults and I think it’s fucked up Israel is doing the same shit Nazis did to them and expect us to nod and smile!

10. Qu**r is just as much of a slur as f*g*t or n*gg*r. I don’t use it and if you do I will block you no questions asked. Say gay! Say lesbian! Say…bisexual! 😱

11. Butch women are valid as fuck and I adore y’all . They aren’t trans men, fuck your lesbian phobia.

12. To build off 11, the new LGBT movement has been infected by woke homophobia and the new trans movement is nothing but conversion therapy in a mask.

13 . Radical feminists are women’s last hope.

14. Marvel movies always sucked, we were just kids and ate up the pretty colors.

15. Dune is a white male savior story.

16. Your fave is not autistic, trans, gay or whatever. You just need validation cause you have no confidence.

17. The Boys should have never cast Jensen Ackles and the Supernatural fandom needs psychological help.

18. Too many of y’all try to primp and posture as the gods of your fandom and yes I say that as someone who did the same and stepped away when I realized how cringe I was. Lording over autistic adults and actual children is pathetic. Get therapy and a real hobby.

19. While gender neutral fanfiction has its place. The trend that all fanfiction needs to be gender neutral is literally killing the creativity and frankly the spice to fanfiction. I hate this trend where piece of media needs to be sterilized so it can be consumed by anyone, even people just passing by. It goes against the concept of creating at its core. Sometimes things are made for specific groups. Sometimes it’s made just for you. The things you create do not need to be sanitized to the point there’s no substance, just a hollow consumption. Think of it this way. Would you rather have a hot pizza of your preference or would you prefer to just drink a bowl of water because someone on the other side of the world might not like pizza?

20. The WWE Divas belt was iconic. I get the whole take women wrestlers seriously movement and I agree! But god damn it, it’s a Bratz belt!!! Gimme!!!!!

21. I fucking HATE koalas. They literally only exist because humans have dumped millions of dollars and keeping them alive. If natural selection were allowed to take his course, they would’ve died off 100 years ago. The food they consume has so little nutrition that they have evolved to have the smallest brain to cranium capacity of any animal to create a built in helmet!! Why? Cause they are so stupid they literally fall out of trees and drop their infants!!! They shit on their young and have permanent diarrhea due to the 0 nutrition thing. They carry chlamydia. They’re so fucking stupid they can’t fuck and have to be artificially inseminated to continue the population. If I couldn’t get laid on my own, the government would not drop millions of dollars into making sure I do!! So why did koalas get it? Literally a waste of resources that could be going to feed thousands of hungry children and instead we’re keeping a fucking retarded (I’m on the spectrum fuck you) animal alive who should have gone extinct hundreds of years ago cause it’s supposedly ‘cute’!! God! I hate koalas!