#school is around the corner again so i've got to get some things done before i'm here. thank you all for your patience. )

[junedenim]

the dignity fucks off

what happens when he stares

warnings: smut, blowjob, p in v, masturbating, fingering, eating, etc. basically the smuttiest thing i've written

word count: 5.2k

Your left tennis shoe scruffs against the clay court. That's what grabs his attention first. Then, the ruffles on the skirt of your dress—white and short—fluttering with the turn on your hips. You swing your arm, moving back, and slamming the ball across the way to your tennis coach.

It lands out-of-bounds and you drop your racquet. "I'm done!" You announce.

"But your dad has me booked for an hour?" Your coach yells back.

You scrunch up your nose and Alex is lost in it, every divet of you, lost in it. He hangs off the half-wall fence, leaning over, watching this scene. Your ponytail sways in the wind as you walk off the court.

"You'll get your payment," you tell him. "But I'm sweaty, I don't want to do this anymore." You pass by him, squinting at him. His eyes have unintentionally followed you the whole way and he knows he must look like the biggest creep. "The grass is overgrown, don't you think?" This comment is directed toward him.

He stands up straight, a stuttering mess. "Uh, yeah, yeah, I'll, um, I'll take care of that one."

"Good." You walk away and he watches you as you do this and then you turn back and—fuck! He must look like an obsessive freak (worst of all, he kind of feels like he is and doesn't care). "Is the pool clean?"

He nods. "Yeah, I just finished cleaning it a few minutes ago."

You sigh and place your hands on your hips. "Yeah, but sometimes in that time frame the leaves fall into the pool because of that dumb tree that hangs over it."

"I can clean it up for you again."

"Could you?" You're twirling the ends of your ponytail with your hands.

He can't deny you, both because it's his job, but you're also batting those eyelashes and he's already such a goner lost in you. It started on his first day when you returned home from school for summer vacation. You got out of the car in two braids in short shorts and he thought you were some worker, not the daughter. Your outfit didn't match the extravagance of the house or the elegance of your parents. That attitude was scrubbed away quickly as you were forced into these lavish things, including tennis.

"Do you want to swim with me?" You ask.

You've never been this upfront with him. Your conversations have exclusively been orders and demands. "Oh, I can't. I still have to mow this lawn, you know."

"You can take a break," you insist.

"Your dad would kill me."

"My dad is at work so that technically means I'm your boss and you look awfully hot so you're going to swim with me. Although you should wash off before, your hands look a little dirty. I'm going to change into my suit and I expect to meet you by my clean pool."

He yells after you. "I don't have a suit."

"Then go naked!" You yelled back, rounding the corner before he had a say in anything.

There are no leaves in the pool but he waits for you. As the minutes pass on more and more, it becomes increasingly more likely that you're going to be a no-show and this is all you playing a trick on him.

You come out with a towel over your arm and a skimpy bikini that is your usual swim attire. "You clean out the leaves, pool boy? Are you the pool boy?"

"Not technically but I guess I'm the one who looks after it."

You hum at this information and drop your towel on one of the recliners. "Sit," you instruct him.

"The grass isn't going to cut itself," he says.

You roll your eyes exaggeratedly. "Well, no, but I want you to sit." Alex listens and sits across from you. "I don't mean to boss you around. You do have free will if you want to cut the grass."

"No, it's fine."

"You look like you need a break anyway. Plus, what would you pick me or grass?"

He thinks the question is rhetorical until you're leaning forward, signaling for an answer. "Oh, uh, you, I guess."

You scoff, "You guess? You're not a very good liar."

"I'm not lying." He's full of bullshit and the biggest liar on the planet. He'd pick you over anything let alone a menial housework duty. 

"I know. You're pretty obvious with your staring."

Fuck. He is a creep. "I'm sorry about all that."

"Oh, I don't care. I'm used to people looking. I wouldn't invite you to swim with me if I thought you were going to assault me or something." He guesses that's a comfort to his psyche. "Do you want to know a secret?"

He nods and you bite your lip, nodding for him to come closer. Up against his ear, you whisper, "Sometimes, I stare too." You pull back and peck him on the lips. There's nothing overtly sexual about it but your lips are smooth with gloss and you're teasing in every sense; your hand on his thigh, drifting up closer and closer, your eyes trained on him, watching, staring.

Alex is caught, unsure what to do. You giggle at his reaction and pull away, leaving him stunned completely and he feels like he has been paralyzed. You leave him, jumping into the pool while he processes. 

"Get in!" You splash up at him, making him attempt to shield himself. 

"I'm not getting caught skinny dipping with you."

Your eyelashes drip of water as you bat them. "You want me to skinny dip?"

"No, I mean, do whatever you want—"

"So, you do want me to skinny dip." You're a trickster and he has a feeling you would accidentally make him confess to murder with your wordplay.

"I'm leaving."

You're cackling at him and he feels like he's being made fun of but that laugh is adorable. He'll return to the grass and relive this moment in his head while he does the whole yard and then when he's in bed tonight and, man, he's fucked. 

"Hey, Alex!" You call out after him and he's shocked you even know his name. Your hair is wet, you're wet, dripping down your body, teasing him. "One of the lights in my room is acting up, can you fix that?"

But he works for you or, well, works for your dad, either way, you have to be playing him and any fantasy stays in his mind. "I'll get right on that."

"After the lawn," you request.

"After the lawn."

*

He's twisting in a lightbulb when you return to your room, hair still dripping water, towel wrapped around your soaked body. "Did you fix it?"

Words, words, words, Alex, words! "Uh, yeah." It takes every fiber in him to not stare at your boobs. "It was, uh, just a lightbulb."

"Cool," you say carelessly, dropping the towel. "Can you undo my top? It's tied to it too tightly."

You've turned around and his internal monologue is going haywire. He could just untie it but that's too far. There's no going back after that. But he thinks you want it that way. And he wants it that way. So, what's so wrong about it?

His fingers fiddle and your body shakes with laughter. "Are you making fun of me?" He asks, trying to rid himself of these nerves.

"No, I swear." You turned around, holding the bikini top to your chest. "I'm charmed by you."

"Thanks," he mutters.

You giggle. "Your turn."

"My turn what?"

"Your shorts or your shirt? I'll let you choose."

"To-to take off?"

You nod.

"Oh, uh, I don't know—"

"Fine. Your shirt," you say carefreely like you're deciding on what you'll have for lunch. In this scenario, he's lunch. "Come on." You're smiling and your hands are sliding and it's so close to your breasts being exposed. He'd be lying if he said he was salivating to see your boobs. They are staring right at him. So, he reaches down and takes off his shirt.

Your smile is devious and he clings to the thought that you're actually attracted to him and he isn't making this whole thing up in his mind. "Now, your shorts."

"What about your top?" He quickly asks. He winces at the thought that he is coming off as a pervert.

You chuckle, your smile beaming. "See, I knew you weren't as coy as you come off as. I like a man who can take charge, you know."

His heart is beating so fast and all the blood has rushed away from his head and down south that he thinks he is going to pass out. "Then, take it off."

You bite your lip, dropping the top, allowing him to get a peek at the tops of your breasts before you cover them with your arms. "There."

"No, no, no, let me see." He's having fun with this game now with your permission and his cock doing the talking, he's gaining confidence in this whole exchange but remains terrified this is some prank you're pulling on him and he's about to get fired.

But you drop your arms, your nipples perked up, and he loses all thoughts and is fine getting fired because it's like he's witnessing the Eighth Wonder of the World. You're staring straight at him, imploring him for more, and wordlessly telling him to remove his shorts.

With just his underwear left, he tells you, "Your bottoms now." 

You listen, pulling them off, completely naked in front of him. You turn around, your bare ass to him, compelling him to get lost in the sight of it, all the curves, crevices, and notes of it.

Then, you open the top drawer of your dresser. "What are you doing?" He asks.

"Getting dressed," you reply.

Alex isn't sure what overcomes him—a demon, an unknown force, his dick—but he grabs you by the waist, turns you in his arm, and kisses you. It's powerful and he's pushed you up against your set of drawers, rattling the items atop it. Your arms wrap around his neck, tightening a hold on him and pulling him closer to you. It's hard, it's rough, and there's no escape, neither of you allowing the other to leave your grasp.

You pull away an inch, out of breath and breathing in each other's air, still trapped in one another. "Can I blow you?"

"What?" His ears are deceiving him. He's sure of it.

You giggle, captivated by every piece of him. "You're so cute. Can I give you a blowjob?"

He nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah, fuck yes." You're on your knees in front of him, pulling down his underwear off all the way, and taking his dick into your mouth before he can even process this whole situation.

Alex closes his eyes as he feels your tongue swirling over the head of his shaft, licking up the precum. He can feel your tongue everywhere on him, licking up the underside before circling around his head again. He lets out a moan, and his hand seems to automatically find its way into your damp hair, pulling you closer to him.

"That feels so fucking good," he tells you, and he starts to pump his hips a little, shoving his dick further into your mouth, pushing the back of your head against the drawers. You open wider, wanting to get as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, feeling it hit the back of your throat, which gets a moan out of you, too. He feels like he's going to come, embarrassed by not lasting long but it's uncontrollable and he figures that if he's going to do it he might as well tell you. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna come already." 

"Do it," you order him, your words muffled around his member. You bring a hand up to take a firm grasp of his cock, and you start pumping, pulling your lips back and making sure they're tightly around his head. You lift your eyes to watch his body spasm as he empties into your mouth, his cum coating your tongue and sliding down to the back of your throat. Your eyes close in pleasure as it moves through your mouth, and you suck his dick greedily to make sure you got every drop. When you're sure, you pull away and make a show of swallowing his load, bringing a finger up to wipe away anything that might have escaped. 

"Wow," is all Alex can manage as he tries to wrap his mind around what just happened. "Do you know how fucking good you are at that?"

"I know," you shrug nonchalantly. "Lots of guys tell me that. You taste good, you know. Have you ever been told that?" He shakes his head. He didn't know that was a common compliment you give to guys. "Most guys are more salty, but your cum kind of tastes sweet. Might be because you're a sweet guy. I haven't been with a lot of sweet guys." Alex has no idea what to say to that so he just nods his head dumbly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just a little..." he's out of breath and points to his head.

You smile up at him, all cutesy and desperately wishing to take a picture and remember the way you look on your knees forever. "I didn't know I was that good."

He huffs out a breath. "You're fucking brilliant."

"Thanks." You stand up, moving over to your bed. "Do you want to continue?"

Alex observes you, his mind running a million miles per second. You're sitting on your bed, legs crossed hiding your pussy, but leaning back on your arms perfectly exposing your boobs. "Fuck yes."

You're laughing at him again, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "You like to watch, don't you?"

Alex has to agree, he guesses this whole thing came out of him being a creep watching you. "You. Looking like that. Yeah."

You scoot back on your bed, open your legs, and slide your hand down, meeting your core. Your hands touch your clit and Alex watches, stupefied, wide eyes, and he's pretty sure his jaw is hanging open. 

Your fingers round on your clit and you're softly moaning to yourself. You reach up and squeeze one of your breasts and he swears to god he thinks he's about to come again just at the sight. He leans against the drawers to steady himself. You work away at yourself quickly, moaning soft moans. He reaches down and strokes his soft cock. It's still sensitive but he needs to touch himself after the stimulus he's watching. Your hips move up and you toss your head back with a final loud moan.

You lie back on the bed, regaining breaths. Your hair is messed about in the pillow and you look over at Alex, peering down at his dick in his hand, smiling. "How'd I do?"

He can't think of words, just taking his head and slowly stroking his cock.

"Come here." You make grabby hands at him, waving him over. He sits on the edge of the bed but you sit up and grab his arm. "Come closer."

Alex is sitting in front of you, your cunt staring straight at him, mesmerizing him. You drag his arm closer to you and place his hand on top of it. He looks up at you, unsure of what you want him to do. You pick up his hand, closing his hand into a fist, and extending two of his fingers.

He slips the fingers through your folds experimentally. You feel so soft and wet and amazing and he can't believe this is happening. He feels his fingers dip when he gets to the back. He hesitates, wanting to do it perfectly, trying to sit and line up the best way possible before slipping them inside. He knows he did the right thing when you moan his name. "That feel good?"

"So good," you tell him, your eyes fluttering closed. "Your fingers are so good, I can't wait to feel your cock inside me."

The combination of your words and the feeling of your pussy stretching around his fingers is enough to start getting him hard again in record time. He brings his free hand to his shaft and starts pumping up and down again. 

You spot the sight. "You want to fuck me?" you question, your breath a bit short from his fingers working on you. You sit up and push him to sit against the headboard. He thinks he's having a stroke when you straddle him. This has got to be a fucking dream, don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up.

He takes a deep breath as you take hold of his dick, shuffling forward until the tip is brushing against you. He inhales sharply at the sensation and smiles nervously when you giggle at his reaction.

Slowly, you sink onto it. It's your turn to gasp. "Fuck, you're tight." It falls out of his mouth and he's still scared that everything he says is going to make you pull back and end this thing, order him out of the room, fire him, destroy him. But you grab his face, tilting his head up, and kissing his lips. Alex's arms wrap around your back, hugging you to him. His eyes start to roll to the back of his head as he continues to slip inside of you, the feeling so overwhelming. He wants to make sure you feel as good as he does. "How does that feel?"

"Fucking amazing," you manage to get out, your words finishing just as he gets his entire length in. You hold still for a moment to collect yourself. His senses are going into overdrive, and it's taking all of his concentration not to come already. You hold onto his shoulders as you lift yourself beginning a rhythm. 

Alex watches your face contort as he moves in and out of you, and the way you squeeze your eyes shut tightly when he hits you particularly deep. He thinks this couldn't possibly get any better, but then he starts jutting his hips out to meet his thrusts, and you both feel like a new sensation has been hit. Something neither of you have felt before. You're clutching at him and he's clutching at you as you move quicker and quicker. 

Then, Alex rolls you over and takes control, thrusting into you. You're whining and muttering things and he's grunting and moaning. 

"Harder," you pant out, trying to collide your pussy against his cock as hard as you can. 

He's huffing and he's so close, but he refuses to go before you. He tries to thrust into you faster and as hard as he possibly can.

"Fuck, fuck yeah, just like that," you cry out, continuing to buck into him. You reach up and grab his neck, pulling him down to your chest. He reaches up, caressing your side, and squeezing your tit. He pinches your nipple, twisting it around in his fingers and you're going to lose it.

"Shit," you moan at the feeling, waves of pleasure rolling through your entire body. You clench around him. His body jerks and he lets go, unloading deep inside of you. He jerks a few more times on top of you, emptying what's left. When he starts to roll over, you hold onto his waist, keeping him there. "No, stay inside."

You lie there with him on top of you recovering. You give him a kiss just below his ear. Alex pushes up onto his elbows to look at you, his dick still tucked inside you. "Are you okay? Was it good for you?"

You reach up, playing with bits of his hair, and beaming. "It was amazing. You're a nice boy, Alex."

"Thanks. You were—you are amazing."

"Do you, I don't know..." You're acting shy now and the thought that he is making you shy leaves him dumbfounded. "Do you maybe want to go again?"

He's eager, nodding quickly, "Of course."

You're giggling, petting his hair. "Okay."

"Like now?"

He apparently must be doing stand-up because you're bursting with laughter. "If you've recovered that quickly."

"I mean, no, but I can get myself there." Three times in less than an hour would be a record for him but he is desperate and if he's going to do it anytime it would be now.

"Okay." You bite your thumb. "You want to fuck your cum into me?"

He's collapsing on top of you, light-headed at the thought. "You can't say shit like that to me."

"Why?" His head is resting on top of your boobs so you reach up, threading your fingers through his hair.

He's fantasizing about it. It's crazy. He's fantasizing about it and he's about to do it. He feels like everything has shifted in the past couple of hours and he can't remember why he didn't want to come to work today. He can't imagine that there was a time when he hated this job.

He sticks his tongue out and licks your nipple making you squeal. You wiggle your body and his cock moves in you and—yeah he's ready to go again.

*

"I want to be on top again," you announce.

He feels relaxed with you like he has already shown you all the sides of him, he can now be comfortable with you. "You like being in charge."

"Well, I am your boss."

He squints. "Does that mean you're paying to have sex with me?"

For once, you laugh at an actual joke he has made, instead of his idiot self. You lean forward and whisper in his ear. "Do you like being my hooker, Alex?" You're biting on the lobe of his ear and he swears this is heaven.

"Well, technically your dad is paying me so—"

You pull back and hit his chest, shoving him away from you. "Ew! Don't say things like that. Ew! Ew! Ew!"

Alex softly chuckles at the whole display and grabs a hold of your hips to keep you from moving around or off of him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I swear."

You slowly still and look back at him. You're staring and he's worried you've changed your mind. You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, cuddling yourself to his chest. "I believe you." You pull back and peck him. "Are we ready now?"

He nods.

"No more bad jokes."

"I swear," he promises.

Once you've both composed yourselves enough, you start to grind your hips down into him, burying his cock as deep inside of you as you can.

"You're so deep," you tell him, placing a hand on his chest to lean forward a bit, before slamming back down. You move up and down his cock slowly at first before your body takes over and you start riding him faster.

Alex watches you move, his dick slipping through his own load, making it easier to move in and out. He reaches up, groping at your boobs as you continue to roll your hips in just the right way so that his cock is hitting all the right places deep inside of you. He can't decide between watching his cock disappearing inside of you or your tits bouncing up and down as you grind into him.

He opts for watching his cock, and slipping in and out of you somehow feels even more amazing while watching it. You alternate between rolling your hips and moving up and down on his dick, and when you lean back and give him a better view, he can see some of his cum leaking out of your hole, and sliding down his shaft. It just turns him on more, and he starts pumping up to meet your hips.

Your walls close in on him, tightening around him as you start to convulse on top of him. Your orgasm rips through you, causing your hips to buck and quake around Alex's cock, setting him off. He comes right after you, shooting a second load into your already cum filled pussy, the white liquid immediately starting to seep out of you because there was nowhere for it to go. You pulse together for a moment, your core sending pulses through his dick, completely overwhelming him. His legs shake as he comes down, spent.

"Fuck, that was nice," you sigh, moving off of him to collapse onto his side. Now that Alex isn't inside of you anymore, you can feel all of his cum starting to ooze out of you. "My bed is gonna get dirty," you say, but make no effort to move. You widen your legs to slip a finger in you, your digit getting covered. You lift it up to his lips. "Try it."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you, come on, try it," you encourage, poking the finger at his lips. He sucks on your finger. "How's it taste?"

It's an odd feeling, tasting his own cum. "I don't know," he laughs. "Good. I've never tasted jizz before."

You giggle and fall onto your back, stretching out. His eyes stare down your whole body, still captivated by your boobs. "I like it. Should I get other samples for you?"

He tugs you closer to him and you roll onto his chest. "Shut up," he mutters. You peer up at him so instantly, he'd fall at your feet if he was standing. Instead, he leans down and kisses you chastely with no intentions for more. "I should probably get back to work."

You pout and sit up, figuring it's best to clean up now. Or have Sonya change your sheets. "Okay."

Alex stands up and is quick to get his clothes back on, not wanting to be caught off the clock.

"Do you want to come back later?" You ask.

"Like tonight?" Alex questions. You're standing naked in the doorway between your bedroom and your bathroom and it's easy to say if you said, "Jump," he'd say, "How high?" 

"Yeah," you nod, "like sometime after dinner."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he quickly agrees.

You disappear into the bathroom. "Alright. Don't keep me waiting."

*

"You kept me waiting!" You whine as you open your bedroom door.

He walks in, shutting the door behind him. "Sorry, sorry. I was stuck fixing something in your dad's office."

You lean on him, your arms around your neck, pouting up at him. "What about me? Aren't I more important?"

Alex quietly laughs. His arms wrap around your waist, skimming up and down on your lower back. "I mean, yeah, but what did you want me to say to your dad? 'I have to go fuck your daughter.'"

You roll your eyes. "Fine. But you're still keeping me waiting."

"You want me to take care of you?" He flirts, eyeing you all around.

He nods slowly, looking up at him as he leans down and kisses you. You quickly back up into your bed and lie down on it together. It's much more caring than last time. It's slow and sensual and he does this thing where he strokes his hand up your side but doesn't try to take your shirt off. 

You make the first move, setting everything into action. You pull his shirt off, interrupting your making out. Alex seems to get the message to put a move on things so he lifts your shirt off and you're not wearing a bra, of course, causing him to mutter, "Fuck" at the sight of your naked breasts.

He smothers them, kissing them, rounding his tongue on your nipples making you moan. You grab his hair, your fingers clutch onto it. His hair is so messy and out of place already, you're just making it worse. 

Alex moves down, kissing down your body before he reaches your pajama shorts, so small and petite that your ass sticks out of them. He kisses the knot you've made in the front before slowly untying it, making you ache in anticipation. You lift your hips and he pulls them down agonizingly slow.

He looks back up, staring at your bare cunt. He takes you by surprise and suddenly his mouth is on it. You moan, your body shaking at the slightest contact, his tongue a huge relief. "More." He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks for a bit, the flat of his tongue applying pressure at the same time, before moving back down to your hole again, dipping his tongue as far into you as it will go. Your hand moves to grip his hair again, this time tighter, as he pumps in and out of you, pulling his face even closer.

Your hips start to buck into his mouth, driving Alex's tongue deeper and deeper into you, and you can feel yourself building up. "Fingers. Use your fingers." You commanded. He instantly listens, replacing his tongue with two fingers and moving back up to suck on your clit. He licks and sucks and pumps until you start quivering against him, your orgasm hitting you brutishly.

Once your shaking lessens, he kisses your lower stomach, waiting for your next instructions.

"Well?" You question. He takes that as an invitation to make his next move. He sits up and grabs your waist, spinning you around and setting you down on all fours in front of him. You let out a yelp at the movement. 

He pulls you back against him, lining himself up and slamming into you. The softness from before is gone and replaced with utter hard need. His sweetness slips through as he asks, "Does that feel okay?"

"Yes, it feels really fucking good," you heavily breathe out. Your face pressed against the bedsheets as you push your ass back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounds into you.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and continues the rough pace. "Do you want me to go slower?" He asks.

"No!" You quickly shout. You're clawing at your sheets, desperate for relief. "Keep going." So, as always, he listens as he hammers into you, his grip tight on your hips as he drags you into him.

"So close," you gasp out, bucking back into him frantically. He brings a hand up to your clit and his fingers work away, rubbing it for you. He feels right on the edge and you're only pulling him closer and closer. "I'm gonna..."

You don't get a chance to finish your sentence as you start to spasm against him, coming harder. Your body jerks as you orgasm, and just as you start calming down, you feel his cock throbbing before he lets go inside of you for a third time.

"Oh, god, fucking fuck, fuck," he moans, his body feeling totally out of control. You lie down, slipping off of him. You let your body vibrate for a minute or two. Alex watches, unsure of how to move, catching his breath. You turn your head and smile at Alex, whose eyes are glued to you. His chest heaving and his cock is still dirty, but his eyes remain on you.

"You're working tomorrow, right?" You ask.

He nods. "Yeah."

You smile devilishly. You sit up and kiss him sweetly on the lips. "I have just the job for you."

*

a/n: so...how y'all doing?

[suuuupernovaaa]

Taxi Cab

Hobie Brown x f!Reader

She would never hurt anyone. He would hurt anyone for her.

Before Hobie, nothing very eventful ever happened in my life. I grew up in a happy home, went to a good school, and decided to become an art teacher. I got good grades, I made life long friendships with people similar to me, and I kept my head down and minded my business.

Though it's been nearly half a year since he came rocketing into my life, I still can't put my finger what exactly drew Hobie to me. We don't have a lot in common. Where I am passive, Hobie is active and fierce. Where I am lenient, Hobie is harsh. Until Hobie, I had never listened to punk music, considered anarchy, or pierced a single thing on my body.

Well, I still haven't done the last one. Besides my ears. Needles are too much for me. Sometimes I get nervous that the spikes on Hobie's wardrobe are going to stick me.

Hobie is a force. He's dangerous, he's passionate, he's larger than life. Being near Hobie is addictive. He has a gravity around him that draws people in, but it tends to spit them out at much the same rate.

For some reason, I've been able to hang on. Sometimes it feels like clinging for dear life, until he reminds me how much he cares.

Even though he can do that in odd ways.

Like tonight.

Ever since I met Hobie, trouble seems to follow me around. I've been mugged twice, had my tires slashed, and even had to move because someone broke into my apartment and trashed the place.

My parents are becoming increasingly alarmed, only satisfied in the fact that Spider-Punk always seems to be nearby. They don't necessarily approve of Spider-Punk (I mean, most don't), but they do at least appreciate that he seems to be looking out for me.

Which is so weird! Hobie can't figure it out either, but he says Spider-Punk is a narcissistic asshole who only saves people to get attention for himself.

He might just be mad that I said I thought Spider-Punk seemed like he'd be cute, under the mask.

I was hoping my luck had turned around and I wouldn't need to run into Spider-Punk again for a while, but I guess that was just silly optimism. On my way to Hobie's with two large bags of groceries in hand, I'm stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk when a taxi cab crashes directly into a fire hydrant.

The fire hydrant lets loose a typhoon of water in my direction, and I scramble to the right to get out of the water, but it's too late. I'm soaked.

"Oi!" I hear the unmistakable sound of Hobie yelling. He was heading my direction after I told him the bags were getting heavy, and arrived just in time to witness the crash. He wrenches open the door of the car and pulls out the taxi driver. He seems unharmed, a little shaken up, with heavy bags under his eyes and a wobble in his step.

Drunk or high.

"You could've killed someone!" Hobie is shouting, looking over at me and then back at the driver. "I ought to kick your fucking arse." He pushes the man against the side of his cab as the water continues to spray. I drop the groceries, mostly ruined now, and approach Hobie.

The man is muttering something under his breath, and as I reach them, I can smell the liquor coming through his pores.

I grab Hobie's arm. "I'm okay. Come on."

"No, I saw it, he nearly killed you, Y/N. Just a few feet over, you'd be gone. Then I'd have to fuckin' kill him!" Hobie slams him against his car one more time, and I pull on his arm harder.

"But he didn't. The cops are on their way. Let's go. I need help carrying the groceries, and it's too cold for me to be all wet."

Hobie looks at me finally, really looks at me, and then with one more burning glance at the inebriated taxi driver, gruffly releases his collar and turns to me.

Effortlessly, he scoops me up into his arms, bridal-style, and I gasp. He strides with ease over to our drowned groceries, and bends down, picking them up in his hands.

"Jesus, have you been working out?" I ask.

His face is too tense for a smile, but the corners of his mouth twitch. Despite my protests, he carries me into his building and up three flights of stairs, only setting me down once we are safe inside the walls of his apartment.

Without me asking, he goes into his room and brings out a pair of leggings I've left here before, and one of his t-shirts. I change in the bathroom, drying my hair as best I can with a towel, before going back to the kitchen to see what can be salvaged of the groceries.

"I think I can still do something with this! The bread is gone but, homemade bread crumbs aren't like, necessary. They're just fancy." I turn to see Hobie leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, still scowling. "Uh, or I can go to the store, if the homemade bread crumbs were like, important."

I let out a yelp of surprise when Hobie pushes himself off the counter and strides towards me, grabbing me by the shoulders and bringing me to him for a rough, passionate kiss.

In moments, I meld into him, wrapping my arms around his waist as his fingers find their way into my hair, and his tongue enters my mouth.

This kiss feels different. Urgent, feverish, desperate. He holds me tightly, pressing me so close to him it feels like he wants us to be one person, like he would climb right into my skin.

I pull away for just a moment, gasping for breath. "Are you okay?" I say on an exhale.

Hobie stares down at me intensely, his hands still in my hair, his eyes wild and the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"I would do anything to keep you safe," he says flatly. "There's no limit to what I'd do."

I bring my hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks, nodding. "I know, Hobie."

"I would have killed that man if you hadn't stopped me."

I know he's exaggerating to make a point, but a chill runs up my spine a the way he says it so calmly, with no hint of irony. I remember his chest heaving, the wild look in his eyes as he held that drunk man up against his own car.

He looked out for blood.

"I'm okay, Hobie. So are you."

"Move in with me. You hate that new place. Stay here."

We've only known each other six months. We're barely adults. I make no money as a new teacher and I honestly haven't figured out how Hobie seems to make so much money off the gigs he plays. It's too soon to move in together. It's not smart.

But I love him. And he loves me. We haven't said it yet, but I don't know that we need to. I can see it in his eyes, feel it while he holds me, taste it on his lips.

He loves me.

"Okay."

"Today. Like, we can get your stuff later, but don't sleep there anymore. Stay with me."

I nod and lean forward, pressing my forehead to his chest. His hands finally leave my hair, and wrap tightly around my shoulders. I listen to his heartbeat - rapid at first, but as we stand there, silently clinging to each other, it begins to slow down.

He's pressing soft kisses to the top of my head, humming quietly, and I've never felt more in love.

I've never felt more cared for, more loved in return, more safe.

Six months or sixty years. I don't think it matters.

[i-love-your-light]

too many thoughts on the new hbomberguy video not to put them anywhere so:

with every app trying to turn into the clock app these days by feeding you endless short form content, *how many* pieces of misinformation does the average person consume day to day?? thinking a lot about how tons of people on social media go largely unquestioned about the information they provide just because they speak confidently into the camera. if you're scrolling through hundreds of pieces of content a day, how many are you realistically going to have the time and will to check? i think there's an unfortunate subconscious bias in liberal and leftist spaces that misinformation is something that is done only by the right, but it's a bipartisan issue babey. everybody's got their own agendas, even if they're on "your side". *insert you are not immune to propaganda garfield meme*

and speaking of fact checking, can't help but think about how much the current state of search engines Sucks So Bad right now. not that this excuses ANY of the misinformation at all, but i think it provides further context as to why these things become so prevalent in creators who become quick-turnaround-content-farms and cut corners when it comes to researching. when i was in high school and learning how to research and cite sources, google was a whole different landscape that was relatively easy to navigate. nowadays a search might give you an ad, a fake news article, somebody's random blog, a quora question, and another ad before actually giving you a relevant verifiable source. i was googling a question about 1920s technology the other day (for a fanfiction im writing lmao) and the VERY FIRST RESULT google gave me was some random fifth grader's school assignment on the topic???? like?????? WHAT????? it just makes it even harder for people to fact-check misinformation too.

going off the point of cutting corners when it comes to creating content, i can't help but think about capitalism's looming influence over all of this too. again, not as an excuse at all but just as further environmental context (because i really believe the takeaway shouldn't be "wow look how bad this one individual guy is" but rather "wow this is one specific example of a much larger systemic issue that is more pervasive than we realize"). a natural consequence of the inhumanity of capitalism is that people feel as if they have to step on or over eachother to get to 'the top'. if everybody is on this individualistic american dream race to success, everyone else around you just looks like collateral. of course then you're going to take shortcuts, and you're going to swindle labor and intellectual property from others, because your primary motivation is accruing capital (financial or social) over ethics or actual labor.

i've been thinking about this in relation to AI as well, and the notion that some people want to Be Artists without Doing Art. they want to Have Done Art but not labor through the process. to present something shiny to the world and benefit off of it. they don't want to go through the actual process of creating, they just want a product. Easy money. Winning the game of capitalism.

i can't even fully fault this mentality- as someone who has been struggling making barely minimum wage from art in one of the most expensive cities in america for the past two years, i can't say that i haven't been tempted on really difficult occasions to act in ways that would be morally bad but would give me a reprieve from the constant stress cycle of "how am i going to pay for my own survival for another month". the difference is i don't give in to those impulses.

tl;dr i hope that people realize that instead of this just being a time to dogpile on one guy (or a few people), that it's actually about a larger systemic problem, and the perfect breeding grounds society has created for this kind of behavior to largely go unchecked!!!

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 15

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 6k

Masterlist

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Monday, November 9; 6:05 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I'm making my bed while Alexia is changing. We've gotten into the habit of taking turns to be quicker. We only have fifteen minutes, after all.

"How was your weekend, anyway? You didn't complain much about being alone, which is surprising."

I smile, remembering what I did. It's no wonder I didn't complain. What a weekend I had! I'd love to share it with her, but Bronze would kill me if I did. She took me to a skate park on Saturday afternoon. I taught her how to skate. We came to the topic while chatting at McDonald's. She confessed she always wanted to learn but never had the chance. So, we went there, and I taught her the basics. It was funny to watch, even though I must admit she did really well for her first time. It was a pleasure to go out with her. It was a great day. I could never thank her enough for what she allowed me to do. I straighten up once I finish the bed.

"Because it was cool. Bronze stayed, so she kept me company," I say as we switch places.

"What's with that big bruise?" she asks, pointing at my thigh with wide eyes.

I look up, surprised to see her at the door. I've gotten used to leaving the door open while getting ready so we can talk. I didn't expect her to invade my privacy. It's the first time she's done that. My cheeks heat up, finding myself in just my underwear in front of her. I quickly pull up my pants that I was about to put on to cover my bare skin. She doesn't seem to notice my discomfort. I'm very modest. It already took a lot for me to let Bronze help me in the shower. Being seen in shorts is one thing, but definitely not in my underwear.

"Oh, um... I hit the corner of the desk."

"The corner of the desk?" she laughs. "Did you see how big it is?"

I shrug, swallowing a smile. I would have preferred she didn't see it to avoid such questions. Thanks, Bronze, for this awkward moment. Besides, it hurts like hell! I haven't stopped changing positions during the last two nights to keep my thigh from touching the mattress.

"It's okay, I'm putting ointment on it. It's already starting to go away."

"Why are you wearing your sports outfit? Did Bronze punish you again?"

"No. I just want to run after breakfast."

"What?" she laughs. "You, run? Where's the real Ona Batlle?" she asks, pretending to look for me around us.

"Shut up!" I laugh. "I just feel like it."

"My God! Where's the Ona who wanted to leave on the first day?"

"Still here!"

I put away my mascara, and we leave the bathroom. We exchange a knowing smile as we get into position. It's right when Bronze walks into the room. She scans the room before stopping in front of me, frowning. Alexia snickers next to me.

"Where's your uniform?" she asks me.

"Miss decided to take up jogging in the morning," Alexia giggles. "You really trained her well!"

"Shut up, Putellas!" I retort sharply.

"Language, Ona!"

I roll my eyes. She'll never change her attitude towards me. Always annoying for such little things. I glance at Alexia, who surprised me by addressing my supervisor. She usually tries to avoid her.

"No, seriously," Alexia continues. "Do you beat her to make her do this? She's got a huge bruise on her thigh! I doubt a piece of furniture could do that."

Bronze turns to me, raising an eyebrow. She must understand what she's talking about. She gives me a silly smile before turning to Alexia, crossing her arms.

"Oh really? How big?"

"At least this big!" Alexia gestures a circle on her own thigh with her hands.

"It must hurt a lot."

The bitch! She's mocking me! She must see my change in attitude because she gets serious and ends the conversation.

"Okay, you can go eat. We'll see each other later. Oh, and Ona," she calls as I head towards the door. "I run after lunch too, if you'd like some company," she offers.

"Alright, I guess."

We exchange a smile before I leave with Alexia. It doesn't take long for her to burst into laughter.

"Oh, damn! You should've seen your face!"

"Stop. It's not funny."

"Oh, yes it is!"

She puts her arm around my shoulders to keep from falling over, laughing so hard. I shake my head, looking up, exasperated by her behavior. I still let her contagious laughter get to me.

"You're really a lost cause, Putellas!"

"No more than you. We make a good pair!"

In high spirits, we head to the cafeteria. The meal goes as usual, except that I leave earlier. I don't know why, but I felt motivated today. I want to take care of myself, and besides, I discovered through Bronze's punishments that running helps clear my head. So, with my earphones and phone in my pocket, I head to the football field. Bronze wasn't lying about running. She's already there. Maybe she does this every morning. I used to wish she could be in my place during my punishments, but I regret it bitterly now. It's clear she has no endurance issues. She has a pace I'll never match. I approach her to join her. She stops with a slightly labored breath. Good God, it's nothing compared to mine. I can compare myself to an ox next to her.

"What got into you to want to run in the morning?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "I just felt like it," I say, taking my phone out of my pocket.

"Uh-uh. You know it's forbidden outside your room. Put it away if you don't want me to confiscate it."

"How about a little exception...?" I try.

"No. The rules remain the same."

I sigh, putting it back in my pocket. Oh well. At least I tried. I wouldn't want her to confiscate it since I use it every day.

"Well, are we going or are you chickening out?"

"Go ahead, I can't keep up with your pace."

"I intended to match yours. Come on, let's go!"

I start running without complaining. Here we go for my first jogging session. Bronze matches my pace, running alongside me. She even stops when I can't keep going.

"I'm slowing you down," I say between breaths.

"I run almost every day, Ona. One day like this won't change anything."

"You're really crazy!"

"In the meantime, I can run for ten minutes without stopping," she mocks.

"Tsss."

I much prefer the supportive supervisor over the one who mocks me. I catch my breath before straightening up.

"By the way, how's your bruise?"

"Oh, well I'm using your ointment."

"How did Alexia see it? It's pretty high on your thigh, isn't it?"

"Yeah. We were talking, and she came to the door when she was ready. I'm used to leaving the door open, so..." I shrug.

"Oh, I see," she smiles. "I thought you didn't like being seen in that position."

"I do, but she caught me off guard."

"Hmm," she smiles. "Alright, let's do one more lap, then we'll stop. You'll be late for class otherwise."

I nod, and we resume our run. Once this lap is done, we each head back to our rooms. I take a quick shower before putting on my uniform. I was quite fast, surprisingly. I still hurry to the school buildings when I see the time. I'm on the verge of being late. I take advantage of the empty halls, with no instructors around, to run. I reach my hallway just as I see my classroom door closing. Damn... There's a 99% chance I won't be let in. I still knock on the door.

"Miss Batlle, what a surprise," my teacher says sarcastically.

"Sorry for being late."

"Go apologize to the instructors. I'm not allowed to let you in."

I sigh heavily. Same story as always. I'm getting fed up. I feel like I'm the only one treated this way.

"Just admit you don't want to," I grumble. "It would be easier to let me in than to send me away!"

"Batlle!"

Oh no... Just what I needed. I look behind me, where Bronze is coming down the hall. I bite my lip, watching her approach. I haven't seen her like this in a long time. She has every right to be angry. I just raised my voice in the hall. At my teacher, no less. If there's one thing she can't stand, it's when I don't listen or disrespect the educators. He didn't respect me either, but I doubt she'll care about that. She reaches us and looks at us both in turn.

"What happened this time?"

"Late, as usual," my teacher explains. "You should teach her to be on time."

"But damn! You just closed the door!" I burst out, gesturing wildly. "You haven't even started your lesson yet! Would it really kill you to let me in?"

"Batlle!" my supervisor shouts.

"No, but Bronze, seriously!" I say, turning to her. "He's had a problem with me from the start!"

"Apologize."

"Excuse me!?" I ask, stunned.

"I've told you before not to speak to an educator like that. Now apologize."

I look at her for a moment. Her words were firm. She won't let me go until it happens because she hates it when I act like this. I feel like a defiant child, as she says. She crosses her arms impatiently. It's a lot to ask. I'm not sure I can do it. But I know she'll get mad if I don't. Deciding to be better is tough. I roll my eyes, turning to my teacher.

"Please excuse my behavior," I concede.

My teacher doesn't hide his surprise. He certainly didn't expect me to do it. If someone else had asked, I wouldn't have. He ignores me and looks at Bronze behind me.

"Well, you have quite an influence on her. You're the only one. »

"The least you could do is accept my apologies," I grumbled.

"Ona, that's enough."

"What? It's true!"

"Enough, I said!"

I averted my eyes from hers, which were very cold, not forgetting to mumble. After more than a month, I still felt impressed by her. I crossed my arms, not caring if anyone saw me pouting like a child. It was certain that I wouldn't listen to my teacher. If Bronze had any influence over me, it was only because she took the time to understand me.

"Fine, I'll take her with me."

I sighed as I heard her. I was going to be punished again and miss two hours of class. I wanted to get my weekend pass, but it was ruined from the first day.

"And to answer you, sir, it's called mutual respect. You should try it; it works quite well when it's reciprocal. It starts with accepting the apologies of a young girl who put her pride aside to offer them to you."

I was speechless. I wasn't the only one, it seemed. I never imagined she would defend me in such circumstances. My teacher barely nodded.

"Hopefully, it won't happen again. Thank you for taking her with you."

I bitterly laughed and turned around without waiting for Bronze. I knew the way to her office. I preferred to get ahead to calm down before saying things I would regret. At least I was glad she managed to shut that poor idiot up with just a few sentences. I still couldn't believe Bronze had taken my side. No one had done that for a long time. After all, I was the one who always caused trouble.

"Old coot, what a jerk," I muttered under my breath. "He won't get away with this."

"Ona," Bronze called out to me.

I stopped when I felt a pressure on my arm. I turned around to face my supervisor who had caught up with me.

"What?" I snapped. "I promise I was on time! He closed the door just as I arrived in the hallway. He hadn't even started his class yet; he could have let me in! But no, as usual, he greeted me with one of his inappropriate remarks and didn't even acknowledge my apologies. I was being nice, I'm really trying, but how can I manage when they all despise me and talk to me like that? I feel like the worst student! It's no wonder I get upset after that!"

"Calm down, will you?"

I caught my breath after this long monologue. I had vented easily again. I felt lighter after talking but also uncomfortable when I met her stern gaze. I couldn't blame her. I knew she had no choice but to take me with her. I just couldn't stand being disrespected anymore. I was tired of being put down everywhere despite my efforts.

"I really wanted to have a clean week so I could go home this weekend," I admitted, lowering my head. "It's already ruined because of that jerk teacher."

"Watch your language!" she reprimanded me. "You really need to stop talking like that. If you had let me get a word in instead of getting angry, I could have negotiated your entrance. But your behavior left me no choice but to take you with me."

"Sorry, it was too much for me," I sighed. "He really annoyed me. They always annoy me by reacting like that. It's like they think I'm worthless!"

"He's close to retirement, Ona," she chuckled. "It's normal for him to be strict about the rules. They have orders not to accept students after the door is closed. I know you're not worthless. You've proven that to me, and now it's your turn to prove it to them. You won't do that by playing their game."

I crossed my arms and puffed out my cheeks. I was sad that she was right. Others' opinions mattered to me. I had acted like an idiot. I had really wanted to surprise Joan by coming home this weekend. I wanted to make up for my last return, which had penalized him. I walked by her side as she resumed walking. She patted my shoulder amicably.

"There's no point in sulking. You'll think twice before acting next time. Now I need to find something for you to do for the next two hours."

I smiled slightly. It felt like she knew my schedule by heart. Well, it's not very complicated given the number of hours I've missed to spend time with her.

"If you stay out of trouble for the rest of the week, I'll support your efforts so you can go out this weekend. That way, I can also have my weekend."

"Oh, thank you... By the way, are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Yes, why?"

"No, I mean... Regarding the recent event in your life... You know..."

I tried to make her understand without saying it. I knew she didn't like talking about private matters in public places. You never know who might be around. If someone knew I was aware of her romantic situation, it wouldn't be good. She frowned before understanding.

"Oh! Oh yes, don't worry. In fact, I don't really have time to think about it with you and the other students," she admitted to me. "It's like it didn't even happen. I'll think about it during my first free weekend. I'm supposed to return her things that she left at my place."

"I thought you were living together."

"No, not at all, and she doesn't have the keys to my apartment either."

"Why? You must be old enough to live with someone, right?"

"Well, my job doesn't allow me to be home much. She asked me to move in with her, but I didn't want to. I prefer having a place of my own to go to after leaving here rather than always going to my girlfriend's place on weekends."

"I understand."

"Well, we have two hours to chat while going through my files. We have some organizing to do, so let's get to it."

I sighed at her motivation. Well, I couldn't complain because she was really lenient with her punishment. I could have been doing laps around the field instead of going to her office. She must still be behind schedule because of my detox, otherwise, she wouldn't be working on a Saturday morning.

"Hey, Luce."

"Don't call me that here," she scolded me with a stern look. "And Luce, seriously? Only my close friends call me that."

"Sorry," I giggled. "I thought it sounded nice. I just wanted to say thank you."

She simply smiled. It's not like me to thank people, so I was glad she didn't make one of her joking remarks. I wanted her to know I was grateful. After all, I owed her a lot. We arrived at her office, which was empty for once. It was very rare. It was even the first time I hadn't seen Ingrid here. Bronze let me settle into my place while she turned on the lights and opened the shutters.

"Ingrid's not here?"

"No, she has the day off," she replied, turning around. "Get up; you’re not going to sit for two hours," she said, pointing to the storage cabinets.

"I like Ingrid," I commented as I stood up. "She's quite nice, unlike you."

"If you prefer, I can have you scrub the toilets. Then you'll understand what being mean really is."

I giggled, not expecting such a reaction. It seemed my little joke didn't please her. But her reaction was worth it.

"Oh, don't take it like that, Bronze. I was joking! You're very nice, and you're my favorite instructor. I'm lucky to have you all to myself."

"Stop sucking up."

"It's not sucking up; it's the simple truth."

"Hmm," she replied, handing me a binder. "Get to work, Batlle."

"So, the last name is back?"

"Shut up and organize."

"Wow, I really upset the commander."

I stopped when I realized she wasn't playing anymore. She left me to manage while she turned on her computer. Well, it seemed I would be the only one doing the organizing. I grumbled as I got to work. I didn't mean to be mean. I hoped she didn't take it the wrong way. She only gave me attention after half an hour.

"Do you have plans this weekend for wanting to go home?"

"Sorry?"

"You said earlier that you wanted a clean week to get your weekend pass."

"Oh, not really. I want to make my sister happy as she's waiting for me patiently, and it's also for you."

"For me?" she asked, perplexed.

"Yes. With everything you've done for me, I want to show you that I can behave well. And you deserve a weekend after being here for two weeks because of me."

"I don't mind being here with you. You make me forget my disastrous life. Being stuck here means I don't have time to think about it."

"Your life is far from as disastrous as mine," I chuckled. "A breakup shouldn't put you in such a state. Personally, I'm already dreading the confrontation with my mother."

I turned around when I got no response. I found her staring at me without really showing any emotion. I started thinking about our conversation the other night, at the climbing wall. Maybe I judged her too quickly. She must also have her past and her reasons for not wanting to get attached to people. We might not be so different after all.

"You'll manage to get over your fear of attachment when you find the right person," I said.

"And you’re saying that? You're in the same situation as me, and I know you don't mean a word of it."

"Me? It's true that I don't mean a word of it," I chuckled. "I preferred drowning in drugs to escape at the time."

"That's not very smart."

« It allowed me to forget. Plus, it’s pretty cool to get high."

"I find it stupid. Drugs don't make life better. They just trap you in a world you think is happiness."

I wondered how we always ended up talking about one of my taboo subjects. I had just come out of detox. All my recent questions started haunting me again. I still didn't know how I ended up like this. I raised my head when I heard her chuckle. She stared straight into my eyes, unsettling me even more than I already was.

"You're such a coward, Batlle. As soon as someone mentions something that touches you deeply, you run away."

"Yes, I'm a coward! So what?" I snapped.

"Nothing, I just wanted to hear you say it."

She smiled in amusement. I didn't need her to add to my frustration. I hated talking about topics that hit close to home. It's not hard to understand, right?! She got up and walked towards me. I ignored her and went back to work. I was surprised to feel her hands on my shoulders.

"Relax, Ona," she said softly. "I just want you to understand that I don't want you to touch drugs again. You deserve much better than wallowing in your past. »Here is the English translation of the provided text:

"What do you know about it?" I replied, lowering my head to my feet. "You don't know what I've been through or what drove me to do it. Besides, I just came out of another withdrawal."

"Withdrawal that isn't your fault. I know it mustn't be easy for you. I'm not asking you to talk about it, but I want you to know that I'm here if you ever want to confide."

"What do you know about it not being my fault? I don't even know it myself! I don't remember anything from that night!" I shouted, angry at myself.

"Who says it wasn't me? Who says I won't relapse one day?!"

I blurt out the questions that deeply distress me. I have tears in my eyes. I'm so afraid of the answers. Even though I feel like I can resist, everything was called into question the moment I found myself in that bathroom with that elastic around my arm. I don't know if I'm to blame, and it scares me. I realize I'm sobbing only when Bronze's arm wraps around my shoulders. She pulls me closer, pressing me against her chest.

"Shh, calm down. Why didn't you tell me about this earlier? You can't doubt yourself like that. If you don't have confidence in yourself, know that I have confidence in you. You won't relapse, I guarantee it."

"You shouldn't," I said between sniffles. "The others are right about me. I'm just a worthless nobody."

"Hey, I forbid you to say that. Turn around and look at me."

I shook my head. There was no way I was letting her see me like this. She sighed and came around herself. She took my binder from my hands and put it back in its place. I closed my eyes as she wiped my tears away with her thumbs.

"I don't understand how a girl like you can undervalue herself so much."

I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I felt ashamed for breaking down like that in front of Bronze. She surprised me by pulling me into her arms. I clung desperately to her T-shirt, letting myself lean against her shoulder. I would have preferred to hide my true nature from her, but it's no longer possible to show her the strong girl that I'm not.

"Alright, Ona, let's make a deal, just between us."

I pulled back slightly after recovering from my emotions. How could she talk about a deal in such a situation? She smiled gently and wiped my eyes again with her thumbs.

"If you come back here even once in withdrawal, I promise you that I will forbid you from leaving the school. No more permissions, no more outings with classes, nothing. You can say goodbye to your little sister and your best friend until the end of the year. Am I clear?"

I blinked several times. Was she threatening me? I was in shock. Of course, she was threatening me. She's not known for having pity.

"I told you," she continued. "I trust you. If I'm making this deal, it's so you can prove to yourself that you can do it and prove to me that I'm not wrong. Anyway, if you come back in that state, I'll make you regret it so you'll learn the lesson once and for all."

"Okay... It's a deal. No more drugs..."

She held out her hand to finalize our deal, as we always did. I stared at it for a long time before shaking it without much conviction. I had no choice but to accept. I didn't understand why she was so determined to help me. I'm not worth it. She trusts me. It's up to me not to disappoint her. With everything she's doing for me, I don't have the right. I promised myself to change, and this is a big part of it.

"Give me a pile, I'll help you finish."

I swallowed my tears and weakly smiled at her, handing her my stack of papers. I grabbed a new one for myself. This girl really wants to change me. She only wants what's best for me. It's up to me to put in the effort and succeed.

Monday, November 9; 9:30 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room

It's the first time we're ending the evening in our room, and that's not a bad thing. I'm lying on my bed while Ale is on hers. The others are in the common room playing foosball. We didn't feel like joining, so we decided to come up after dinner.

"And this morning with Bronze? We haven't talked about it since. Was she very angry about your behavior this morning?"

I knew the subject of Bronze hadn't come up yet today. They always ask me for a debrief of my day with her when something happens. It's surprising she didn't ask earlier. Besides, she witnessed the scene, unlike the others. The story didn't spread too much this time because the boys weren't informed in advance for once.

"No, it's fine... We... We talked for a long time," I said hesitantly.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"About what?"

"About how I feel like the teachers despise me and how it infuriates me every time. She told me to behave in a way that would change their minds."

"She didn't get angry?"

"No, not really. She was understanding. I just had to do some tidying up, that's all. She makes me do that all the time lately. I think I'm helping her catch up on what she missed because of my week of withdrawal."

"It seems like she's calmer with you compared to the beginning."

"Hum, I don't know. I'm calmer too."

"That's true."

I smiled, thinking back to the beginning. I've come a long way in a month. Never in my life would I have imagined crying or talking about such a taboo subject with Bronze. I feel like she's the only one who cares about me.

"I'm afraid I won't get permission to go out this weekend because of this morning," I confided.

"There's a good chance, given that Wiegman didn't like your behavior last week."

"Bronze said she would help me get out if I don't break any more rules. I hope she succeeds... I would like to go out..."

"Really? Surprising!"

"Yeah... I'm glad. It would do me good."

"It looks like it's not just you who's changing," she laughed.

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"Bronze is changing too since you arrived. She would never have done that before! I feel like there's a strong bond forming between you two. I'm sure she really cares about you deep down, and it seems mutual."

"It's just that she's starting to figure me out. She knows where to hit to make me react and to hurt me too. It bothers me sometimes, but it's very effective."

"It's good if she's helping you. The most important thing is that it's effective. That's why we're here, after all," she shrugged. "You seem to have a lot of respect for her now, and that's good."

Oh yes, I do have a lot of respect for her. No one has ever stood up to me the way she does. Just for that, I take my hat off to her. She's also the only one who trusts me, as she has repeatedly told me. That means a lot to me. It makes me happy that at least one person on earth believes in me.

"So you're going home this weekend?" she changed the subject.

"I hope so... It would be great for my brother. I heard he's taken over my role at home," I laughed, shaking my head. "I was the one causing trouble, and now it's him because of my departure, which he probably can't stand."

"Seriously?" she laughed. "Mini Batlle is rebelling. He needs to be careful not to end up here later!"

"He's only six," I laughed. "He has time to get a grip."

"Only six?! I thought he was older! How come there's such an age gap?"

"He's just my half-brother. He's adorable. I feel guilty that he's becoming like this because of me. That's why I want to go home more often."

"Aww! But he must be so cute then! Don't you have a picture?"

"I should have one," I laughed.

I took my phone out of my drawer. I've become very independent of it since I got here. I don't really need it because I keep myself busy in other ways. I saw some messages from Mapi, but I ignored them. I'll reply later. In the meantime, I searched through my photos. I didn't have many, and most were with Joan or Mapi. I had done a massive cleanup before coming here. Alexia sat on my bed. I showed her several photos. There was one where Joan was on my back. Several photos scrolled by until we came across one where Mapi was with us on my bed. I took the opportunity to tell her that Mapi was my ex since she didn't know yet. She admitted that I had very good taste in girls.If Mapi knew, she'd brag about it. She kept commenting on each photo, making me laugh with most of her remarks.

"Who would have thought you had such a big heart for a little six-year-old boy."

"Hey, I'm not made of stone either!" I retorted. "But I admit he's undoubtedly my weakness."

"It shows in the photos. He looks adorable."

"I'll introduce him to you someday."

"That'll be tough, but I'm glad you imply that we'll stay in touch."

"Of course we'll stay in touch," I said, smiling.

This comment seemed to please her more than I had imagined. We talked a bit more about our classes before taking turns showering. We just managed to be ready for bed by curfew. It's become a routine now. I can finally close my eyes after this action-packed and emotional day.

4

[blossom-hwa]

manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre:  fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.  

TXT Masterlist

manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[captainsophiestark]

The Curse of the Sun and the Moon

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day 7 Prompt: "Do you recognize this?"

Summary: Klaus' SO is writing their doctoral dissertation on cross-culture myths. Much to their irritation, Klaus knows a thing or two about those.

Word Count: 1,877

Category: Humor, Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Love? Hello, can you hear me?"

Slowly, I turned my head away from the paper in front of me, still not taking my eyes off the drawings. A hand waved in front of my face too, but I ignored it.

"What do you want, Nik?" I muttered, only half paying attention to him.

"I want to know you haven't gone into a coma," he whined, flopping down into the chair next to me. I cracked the tiniest smile, but didn't let my train of thought wander from the work in front of me.

"I haven't gone into a coma," I repeated. I didn't say anything else after that and neither did Nik for a moment, until he sighed.

"You must understand why I'm concerned when you respond to my questions like you're in a trance."

I sighed, making a last note before finally looking up at Nik with a tired smile.

"I'm sorry, babe. I know I've been pretty wrapped up in all this lately, but I'm writing a doctoral dissertation in folklore and mythology. I've kinda got my hands full, and if I don't put in the hours to get this done right, it's all going to be for nothing."

Nik rolled his eyes dramatically before fixing me with a look.

"You know, if you just became a vampire with me, you wouldn't have to worry about things like school and work anymore."

I narrowed my eyes. "If I ever make the decision to become a vampire with you, all I'm going to do is go back to college for more degrees and studying. I love doing this, even if it makes me want to walk into the ocean sometimes. All eternity is going to do is enable me to throw any kind of practical job application for my studies out the window."

Nik sighed heavily, but he had a smile on his face all the same.

"I probably could've guessed that answer, couldn't I?"

"Probably."

We shared a smile, and then my attention drifted back to the paper in front of me. I stared at it for a few moments, still half-aware of Nik watching me fondly, when an idea struck like lightning.

"Wait, Nik... I just thought of something." I rushed to turn the paper around on my desk so it faced Nik instead of me. "Do you recognize this? I mean, you've been around for a thousand years. Chances are probably decent that you know something about this, right?"

Nik stared at the paper for a minute, then slowly looked up at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What did you say you're doing your dissertation on again?"

"I'm focusing on myths that appear to transcend cultures throughout history. There's a couple examples of stories and legends that exist in basically the same form in cultures that had no contact. This one, usually referred to as something along the lines of 'the curse of and the sun and the moon', is the main one I've decided to focus on. So... any chance you can tell me anything about it?"

Nik's tiny smile turned into a full on grin, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at me. My heart leapt.

"Oh my gosh, you totally know something! Tell me, I can't wait. I'm gonna have to find some sources other than you if I want to put it in my paper, but-"

"This is mine, love," he said. I stared at him, trying to process what his words meant, but I came up empty-handed.

"What do you mean? Is this copy of the myth yours?"

"In a way."

Nik looked back down at the illustration depicting the curse, this one of Aztec origin. It was my favorite of the versions I'd found, although the same curse had also appeared in Roman scrolls and a half-dozen other cultures from around the world. He ran his finger over the lines of the drawing fondly.

"I drew this."

My mouth dropped open, and I looked quickly between Nik, the drawing, and back again.

"What... what do you mean you drew this? This is an Aztec myth from the 13th century-" I stopped short as my mind finally caught up. "...which I guess you were alive for..."

Nik smiled and kicked back in his chair, ankles crossed and a proud expression on his face. I just stared at him in shock.

"There is no such thing as the Curse of the Sun and the Moon, love," he said. "The real thing is the Hybrid curse, placed on me. A long time ago, Elijah and I planted this myth in cultures all over the world to get every single werewolf and vampire in the world looking for the components I needed to break my own curse. And it worked."

Nik finished his explanation with a smirk, but I didn't react. I just kept staring at him, my brain going through the equivalent of a computer's blue screen of death. This could not be possible.

"Hold on a second," I said, holding up a hand to stop my own swirling thoughts before looking at Nik again. "Let me get this straight. You drew this ancient Aztec drawing I have on my desk right now?"

"Yes."

"And you created the Roman scrolls I found that kick-started this project?"

"I did."

"And you completely made up the myth of the Curse and the Sun of the Moon, then did the ancient equivalent of editing it into a bunch of wikipedia articles to make everyone believe it was real, all so other werewolves and vampires would do the work of finding things you needed for you?"

"That's right."

"So this curse, this myth that permeates a dozen different, separate cultures, the cornerstone of my dissertation... is just a lie you made up a long time ago, that nobody ever disproved because you're just so fucking old you could create mythology at the same time that these ancient cultures actually existed?"

"Exactly."

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. Then, my eyes snapped open, and I snatched up a scroll from the top of my desk and hucked it at my boyfriend.

"Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME NIK?" I cried, shooting out of my seat. Nik looked a little shocked, partly because the scroll had hit him smack in the face and then partly because I never got this kind of mad at him. "You can't just fake historical documents to serve your own purposes!"

"Technically, I didn't fake any historical documents. I made them at the same time in history that they're supposed to be from."

"DOESN'T COUNT! My whole dissertation is about examining the phenomena of cultures that had no interactions somehow telling the same stories. There's all kind of examples of it, but this was going to be my ace in the hole, and now I can't use it!"

"Sure you can," Nik said, at last standing from the chair. He was smart enough not to walk towards me, but I hurled a pillow from my chair at him anyway.

"No, I can't! What am I gonna say? Oh, well you see, all these different cultures had the same mythology without talking to each other because my boyfriend is a motherfucker who lied through his teeth to manipulate people, and he's old enough that he completely got away with it!"

Nik shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"ARGH! I can't believe you- Oh my God."

"What?"

"The stupid fucking vampire myth was going to be another example supporting my dissertation. But that's gone now too. 'Oh, why do all these cultures have the same mythology about a curse and blood-drinking creatures who stalk the night?' Well that's simple, professors! It's because my boyfriend, one of those blood-drinkers, just kept showing up to plant a bullshit story and got other myths written about him in the process!"

"I'm still not seeing the problem, love, that sounds like an excellent presentation."

"NIKLAUS MIKAELSON! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

I rushed to close the distance between us, smacking him in the chest and then continuing to whack him in the shoulders, arms, and chest again.

"You. Can't. Just. Make. Up. Mythology. That. Influences. History. Forever. For KICKS!" I shouted, punctuating each word with a hit. Nik just watched me, not moving even half an inch from the force of my shoves, watching me rage with a small smile on his face.

"I've never seen you like this before, love," he said, his voice silky and low. It only made me want to hit him more. "I quite like it."

"UGH!" I shouted, turning away from Nik all the same. I stared at the desk, my mind finally getting into the later stages of processing. I'd have to completely ditch all this work. "Nik, this is the worst thing you've ever done. And I've dated you long enough to know about the bad things you've done. Holy shit, I'm going to have to ditch so much of this work. I'm going to have to completely change my topic, all because you're fucking ancient and a good artist and a better liar."

After a second, I felt Nik's arms slowly, gently wrap around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling into my hair. Part of me still wanted to hit him, but not enough of me to actually do it.

"I'm sorry, love," he said, voice low and sweet. "Tell me what I can do to make it better."

I huffed a sigh through my nose. "You can tell me where Elijah is. He's a part of this too, I need to kill him next."

Nik chuckled, pulling me tighter to him. I relaxed a little bit into him.

"How about we start with a movie marathon of your choice, all of your favorite junk food, and I dagger any of my siblings who try to disturb you while you're working next week?"

I paused, thinking, dragging out the moment with a little hum. Nik kissed my cheek, slowly moving further along and down towards my neck, and after another minute I sighed.

"Fine. I guess we can start with relaxation and peace. But I am not getting over this any time soon. And I'm still going to attack Elijah the next time I see him."

"It's a deal."

"Of all the things I thought might be a challenge about dating a vampire, I never could've predicted 'destroys my doctoral dissertation by secretly being the subject of my dissertation'."

Nik snorted a little laugh in my ear. "And I never would've thought this would be the closest we came to a deal-braker for you, what with all the murdering I've done."

"I might not be able to claim the high ground on that front much longer."

I twisted around to look pointedly at Nik, but he just smiled right back at me. Wisely, he used his vampire speed to whisk me out of the room before I could look at my ruined dissertation again. This situation was absolutely, completely ridiculous, and I knew I'd probably still be processing for the next few decades. But I loved Nik and the rest of these stupid, lying, ridiculous, ancient vampires, and I'd keep loving them no matter what. Even if I wanted to kill them, sometimes, too.

****************

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[horanghxnni]

coffee shop meet-cute. - j.w.w.

PAIRING: Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

TAGS: meet cute, strangers to lovers one-shot, barista!reader, non-idol!wonwoo; pure fluff, oblivious pining

WARNINGS: mentions of food/eating; i tried my best to write as gender neutral as possible, but i haven't proofread this more than once so pls let me know if it's not; other than that none (please let me know if i've missed anything)

NOTES: this is my first post here on tumblr omg. hi! i've been a big fan of work here and i've been writing for a while (i shall not discuss my cursed wattpad days when i was younger) and thought i'd start posting here for fun. i hope you enjoy! <3

You had started working at this local coffee shop when you were 16, at first as a way to earn cash on the weekends to fund your high school escapades, and now, 7 years later, you grew to love the feeling of crafting drinks and managing the shop you now felt was like a second home. You worked every day, and opening the quaint little shop meant that the first hour or so was a quiet peace to yourself, filled with the smell of brewing espresso and baking croissants. 

The morning rush came like clockwork, beginning at 7:15 am and finally reaching a calmer pace around 8 am. Just when the busy atmosphere began to subside and the day reached its first slump, a clearly anxious man made his way to the front counter, hurriedly ordering an iced americano and holding out his card before you could even tell him how much it would cost. You rang him up, and he left the counter to stand in a corner with a polite nod to wait for his coffee, glancing at the clock. You make his simple order as quickly as possible and set it on the pickup counter, calling his name. “Wonwoo, iced americano?” 

He grabs his cup and thanks you quietly, before hurriedly leaving the shop, not even bothering to grab a straw. You don’t think too much of it and get back to filling the pastry case as the curious stranger becomes a distant memory by the end of the day. 

That is, until you notice he comes in every day, always at the same time, just before 9 am. He enters with the same kind of energy, always as if he’s perpetually running late, and orders the same thing: iced americano, and if he was feeling peckish, a blueberry muffin. He never talked much, and the only thing you knew about him other than his coffee order was that his name was Wonwoo, he seemed to have a horrible concept of time, and he must work in some office to be dressed in business casual every day. This Groundhog Day feeling encounter with him remained as a growing routine for you, until 3 weeks later when you began to anticipate his arrival, and you had his order ready and waiting for him by the time he reached the counter. Your interaction grew more efficient as time passed, with a single swap of his debit card for his coffee, and his transaction down to 30 seconds, handing him back his card in record timing. You figured it was helping him, right? He was late to work, or something time-sensitive at least, and you made his caffeine pit-stop easier. It was a win-win: you gained another regular, and he got his coffee without hindering his morning. 

He ruined your flow one Wednesday afternoon. Once again, he arrived just before 9 am, but he walked in much slower this time, and he was wearing much more casual clothes, a faded gray t-shirt and jeans, a brown messenger bag slung on his shoulder. As usual, his coffee was already done, and you almost dropped a tray of apple tarts as he entered almost as an entirely different person. You set them in the pastry case with renewed care, and met him at the register. 

“Not in a rush this morning?” You asked, clearly confused but friendly, as you pushed his cup towards him. 

He chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes roved over the rows of pastries and sandwiches you had displayed. “Nope, we started a hybrid schedule so I’m working from home on Wednesdays.” He met your eyes for a moment before shifting back to the sweets, thinking. “I’m thinking about trying something new, what do you recommend?” 

It took you a moment before you adapted to the fact that you’d heard more than two words from him. His voice was smooth and deeper than you expected, and it seemed to sink into your bones. “Um, well the apple tarts are new, and we make pop tarts in house.” 

He nodded and took one more glance before meeting your eyes. “I’ll take one of each, for here.” He gave you a small smile and slid over his debit card, once again catching you off guard. For here? He was staying? You nodded silently and began to warm his sweets as you rang him up. He thanked you and took back his card, settling in a seat a few feet down the counter, pulling out his laptop and beginning to type quietly. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him as you made his little pastry plate, not used to his presence. You were so used to his rush of energy that seeing him so still and calm was confusing. You decided just before you gave him his plate that you’d slip a cake pop next to the tart, you had made extras today anyway. With a nod, you place it beside his laptop and don’t even wait for an acknowledgement, leaving the pretty stranger to his work and busying yourself with cleaning some dirty cups from earlier this morning and wiping down the counters. 

“The poptart is good. Do you make them yourself?” His voice cut through the quiet lo-fi music playing over the speakers as you paused from your cleaning. You turned to see him already looking at you, the half-eaten poptart in his hand. 

You nodded and put down the rag in your hand. “Yeah, every morning. The flavor changes depending on what fruit I can get my hands on.” You see him nod in approval, and he sets it down on his plate as he turns his full attention to you. 

“Thank you for the cake pop. And for making my coffee so quickly every day, it really helps me out.” He appears more bashful now, almost bordering embarrassed, as his cheeks flush an almost imperceptible pink. “I know I seem pretty pressed for time most mornings.” 

You laugh at his comment, thinking back to the quiet whirlwind of his stressed aura that appears in the shop every day. “Of course, I don’t want to make you any later than you already seem to be.” You pause for a moment before speaking again, wondering if you should ask the innocent question in your mind. He seems open to conversation, and it’s not like anyone else was demanding your attention at the moment. “Where do you work anyway?” 

“Oh, I work at the Pledis building, I’m a writer there for content creation. I’m not technically late ever, but I like to get there at a certain time and I definitely overestimate the time I need to commute.” He answers sheepishly, and you smile. A writer for such a big company? Impressive. 

You spoke for a little bit longer before another rush began, learning he’d been working at Pledis for a few years now, and his friend Joshua had recommended this coffee shop to him a few months ago, but he hadn’t had the chance to come until a few weeks ago. Of course your favorite regular would have pushed him here, and little details seemed to fit into place as your small chats throughout the few hours he remained at the bar revealed more and more about each other. Around 4 pm, he left with a wave, trying his best not to distract you too much. You waved back, and with an offhanded, “See you tomorrow!”, he left the cafe, the door jingling behind him. 

_____________ 

The next morning, Wonwoo surprised you again. He came in at 8:30, standing at the register while you finished the last of the morning rush orders, you hadn’t even seen him walk in. You turned to take the order only to see a face that wasn’t supposed to be here for another 20 minutes. 

“Oh, you’re here early! I’m sorry, I haven't made your coffee yet.” Of course you hadn’t. You had timed your routine almost down to the second, and he had thrown off your entire groove. He simply smiled and shook his head. 

“It’s okay, I have some time this morning. I’ll get my usual and another poptart, it doesn't matter the flavor.” He points to the plate and pulls out some cash. “You can keep the change.” Wonwoo, without another word, moves to where he sat the day before, settling in and pulling out his phone. 

You make his coffee and warm his poptart, placing it in a to-go sleeve, placing both in front of him. “So, I finally get my routine down with you and you all of a sudden decide you want to switch it up?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

He looks up from his phone, a small smile growing on his lips. “Figured if I got here a little earlier, I’d relieve you of the time constraint.” His smile shifts into a frown after a moment. “I’m sorry if it threw you off that bad, I didn’t-”

You wave a hand at him, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about it, I was just messing with you.” 

His body visibly relaxes as he reaches for his coffee. “Thanks, Y/N.” You couldn’t help but grin as you hear your name in his voice, and you nod and turn before he can see just how wide your smile could get. You make small talk as he finishes his coffee and pastry, asking about his work and new recipes brewing in your head for the next 20 or so minutes before he declares he is leaving to head to work. 

“This was nice, actually sitting down before work. Maybe I’ll do this more often.” He hands you his plate as you agree, placing it in the sink to deal with later. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me this morning. You’re welcome anytime, obviously.” You say your goodbyes, and with another small smile, he leaves, and you’re left thinking of the way his smile lights up his face for the rest of the day. 

_____________ 

For the next few weeks, Wonwoo arrives around 20-30 minutes early. Your new routine involves pleasant conversation as you work, and him becoming a taste tester for new recipes before they hit the pastry case. You become used to each other’s presence, and with every new interaction, he grows more and more talkative. He tells you about frustrations from work from the day before, or a movie he had just watched over the weekend. You tell him about your roommate endeavors and outings you’d gone on recently. You consider yourselves friends at this point, and it was nice to have someone like him around when the morning felt like too much to handle. 

You had offhandedly mentioned taking a few days off one day and Wonwoo encouraged rest, but through all the chaos of pushed forward deadlines at work, he had completely forgotten until he arrived at the cafe one morning to see someone completely different behind the counter. He was confused to see his usual coffee was still sitting waiting for him in its normal place with his name on it, set aside on the counter, yet he did not recognize the barista currently finishing up a latte. As he slowly stepped up to the pickup counter and grabbed his drink, the employee looked up and met his gaze. 

“Oh, you must be Wonwoo. There’s your iced americano, there’s a muffin in the bag beside it.” His demeanor was nonchalant, as he placed the other drink on the counter and called out the order. 

“Is Y/N not in today?” It was the first thing he could think of, despite the answer being obvious. 

The younger boy looked up from his work. “No, they're off all week. They left me a note saying a guy named Wonwoo would come in at 8:30 and that was your usual.” He shrugged and looked down again at his brewing espresso shots. “I guess that’s you. I’m Chan, I usually work afternoons but I’m covering for Y/N this week.” 

Wonwoo nods, still processing what he had just heard. Y/N’s gone all week? Why hadn’t they said anything? He suddenly felt stupid as he remembered a conversation from two weeks ago, where Y/N finally decided the week they would take a solo trip to Jeju to visit their grandmother: this week. “Right. Thanks, Chan.” 

Chan nods back at him and Wonwoo leaves the cafe still in a semi-daze after setting down some cash, suddenly feeling as if he was thrown off balance, an unfamiliar budding feeling of disappointment settling deep in his chest. He makes his way to work, suddenly feeling like his predictable coffee didn’t taste the same. 

The rest of his work day was surprisingly only getting worse: he had printed the wrong files, was late to a meeting he was supposed to lead, and currently Joshua was trying (and failing) to speak to him about a conference they were attending the following month as Wonwoo unintentionally tuned him out. Suddenly, he felt a light shove of his shoulder pull him out of his trance.

“Dude, what is wrong with you? Have you heard anything I said?” Joshua raised an accusatory eyebrow at his friend and coworker. Wonwoo’s eyes suddenly gained focus as he looked up to see Joshua leaning against his desk. 

“I-” he attempted to think of an excuse, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted, my whole day feels thrown off.” He frowned and turned his chair toward the other man. “What were you saying?” 

Joshua’s mouth crept into an almost dangerous smirk as he took a glance at Wonwoo’s still full coffee cup, an unfamiliar handwriting scrawling his name on the top. “You didn’t see Y/N this morning.” 

Wonwoo almost choked on his own spit. “What? How- how do you know that?” 

The older boy rolled his eyes and pointed to the cup. “That’s not Y/N’s handwriting. I see them before you do most mornings, and they're not in town. They told me last week. I thought you knew.” 

“I did know, I just forgot, with everything going on at work.” Wonwoo couldn’t help but frown. Had not seeing them really thrown him off that much? “What does not seeing them have to do with anything though?” 

Joshua scoffed. “Dude, every time you come from that cafe, you walk in like you just won the lottery, and you see them every day. You like them, don’t you?” 

It was the last part that struck Wonwoo to his very core. He’d never even considered that to be an option before. Sure, Y/N was stunning, and kind, and he’d found great company in the barista, but like them? Romantically? Maybe it was more possible than he imagined. His face seemed to drop, as Joshua laughed at his rapid change in expression. 

“It’s okay if you do. They seem to make you happy. I think you should go for it.” With a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat, Joshua claps his friend on the shoulder before leaving his desk to return to his own, as Wonwoo’s brain settles on entertaining this thought that seems to bloom an unfamiliar feeling in his chest, replacing the heavy stone of disappointment from earlier. 

_____________

You were back after a relaxing few days with your grandmother, spending time in the sun and looking out on the ocean. Although the time off was needed, you couldn’t help but think about not only your cafe, but a specific regular you hadn’t seen since last week. You hoped Chan had made his usual for him as she said on the note, and you were excited to catch up with Wonwoo about the last week, and honestly, just to see him again. Spending the last few days without seeing each other triggered the realization that he was more special to you than you had initially thought, and though he may not feel the same, you were content with the friendship you had formed already. 

You opened the cafe without issue, and a sense of calm washed over you as you fell back into your routine. The morning rush felt like a breeze as you fell into a groove and before you knew it, 8:30 rolled around and the man you’d been thinking of walked through the door. He was early, as he now often was, but his anxious energy was back. He stepped up to the counter as you handed him his coffee, a fresh pop tart on a plate sliding his way as well. 

“It’s on the house today. I’m sure you missed my magic touch last week.” You joked, your smile widening. His mouth opened before it shut once more, mirroring your grin as he said a quiet thank you as he took his seat. You caught up on missed stories, with mostly you telling stories of your vacation as he sat quietly and listened as you multitasked. It wasn’t until you asked him a question and received no answer that you looked up at him from the espresso machine to see him simply staring at you. “Wonwoo?” 

You saw his eyes clear as his face rapidly turned a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry, I was listening. I just-” He paused, and your brows furrowed. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, putting down the espresso shot and giving him your full focus. 

“Do you want to, maybe, go to dinner sometime?” His eyes couldn’t meet yours at first, until suddenly the dark brown of his irises met yours and you melted at the adoration you felt behind his gaze. 

“Wonwoo, are you asking me on a date?” You couldn’t believe this was happening. You watched his cheeks redden further as he nodded and you couldn’t help the way you seemed to beam at him. “I’d like that very much. Maybe this Saturday, if you’re free?” 

You watched the anxiety leave his body in an instant as he agreed. He handed you his phone as he stood up, coffee cup and plate now empty. “Put your number in and I’ll call you?” 

You punched your contact information in and handed him the phone in exchange for his dishes, and watched as he clumsily pushed in his seat and grabbed his things. “Have a good day at work, Wonwoo. It was nice to see you.” 

“It was good to see you. I’ll call you later tonight, if that’s okay.” You nodded and if he smiled any wider, he thought his lips might start to crack. With one last goodbye, he left out the door, and his eyes didn’t leave your beautiful face through the window until he lost line of sight.

[justmeinadaze]

We're a Family Part 22 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Get ready to feel old <3. I wrote Good Neighbors a little over a year ago and I've loved how they've evolved. I'm not done with this little family yet. I still have one more chapter with Dylan and then some ideas with an older Ro but, ugh, lol I feel how the reader feels when it comes to her first born.

Warnings: Dads Steddie/ Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, edging (they are still trying new things), handcuffs, etc, FLUFF, they love each other <3 and their kiddos, ANGST, someone from the past comes back to talk to the adult Munson-Harringtons and Dylan, Steve and Eddie struggle being protective over their eldest (Eddie just hides it better), lots of talk about Dylan growing up and leaving the nest and how these three feel about it.

Word Count: 5256

An 18-year-old Dylan bounces anxiously on his toes as you sort through the mail too slow for his liking. 

“MOM! Come on! Did anything come for me or not?”

Two years had passed since you reconnected with your mother and things had been going very well. She was always extremely busy with work but when she came over Aurora insisted on showing her all the movies she missed out on. 

“Grandma! Watch how cool this is!”, the seven-year-old squeals with delight as they focus on the film in front of them. The light saber flies past Kylo-Ren into Rey’s hand and Ro breathes a sigh of excitement.

“Ok, now explain to me again how ‘the force’ works.”, yoru mom asks as she leans forward over her crossed legs on the couch. 

You grin from your spot in the kitchen as you bump Eddie’s hip with yours. 

“Definitely your daughter, nerd.”

“Takes one to know one, princess.”

James was now a toddler causing all kinds of chaos around the Munson-Harrington home. His sticky fingers got into everything even some of the cabinets that you had believed were too high for him to reach. 

“James Wayne Munson Harrington.”, you scold with your hands on your hips as you watch him lean back and laugh with a wide smile that only rivaled that of his dad. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Plopping his butt down on the counter, he dangles his legs over the side as he reaches his tiny hand into the snack box and produces a chocolate chip cookie. 

“Mama cookie…Yames.”, he coos as he points to himself while struggling to say his name correctly. 

“Mhmm. Didn’t you just eat lunch?”

“For…for mama an Rara.”

“Don’t you bribe me and your sister with sweets, you little butthead.”

“Why are you being mean to our son?”, Steve asks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen.

“Because our son parkoured up the counter for a snack.”

The three-year-old giggles as he offers his dad a cookie that he accepts before lifting him into his arms and putting the box back in the cabinet. 

“What did we say, bud?”

“Ask.”

“That’s right. You have to ask first. Now give mommy a kiss as an apology and get out of here, you butthead.”

Dylan was halfway through his senior year of high school and applied to a lot of colleges but was anxious to be accepted to a certain one because that’s where Daisy was going. The two of them had continued to date and see each other which you didn’t mind. What killed you however was that because of her family she was looking at a school that was a few states away. You had never been that far from your son and it scared you.

“I don’t know. I see bills and ads. Let me take my time to really read these though.” Dylan huffs making you smile as you give him a hug. He was so much taller than you now, your head resting against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “Everything’s going to be ok, weirdo. You’ll hear something soon. There’s still some time.” 

***

Steve ran his hands over his eyes exhaustedly while grading papers during his lunch. With winter break coming up, he wanted to get everything out of the way so he could take these next couple of weeks to spend some time with the kids especially Dylan. When he had mentioned going to school out of state, of course, he was proud and encouraged him to apply but he’d be lying if he didn’t say the idea of his son being so far away broke his heart.

“Stevie?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice calmed him as he smiled towards the door his husband was leaning against. 

“Hey you. What are you doing here?”

“You, uh, just started your lunch hour right?”

Steve knew that tone, something was going on that the metalhead was afraid would upset him. 

“Yeah? Everything ok?” As he turned his head towards the hall, your ex-husband stepped into view. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

“Give us a second.”, Eddie gestured towards Charlie before entering the classroom and closing the door. “Steven, calm down.”

“Calm down? Why the fuck is he here?! Whatever he wants the answer is no.”

“Baby, sit. Please? At least hear me out first.” Steve huffed as he folded his arms and pouted while Eddie sat on his desk in front of him. “I get it. Trust me I do but I felt like…for what he’s asking we should talk about it at most. He wanted to speak to us both first out of respect because we are Dylan’s dads.”

“Damn right.”

“He’s not asking to spend time with him again or anything like that. Charlie doesn’t think Dylan would even want that but… he’s asking to see him graduate.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Edward Munson?!”, Steve practically shouts as he rises to his feet.

“Shhhh.”, the metalhead tries to calm him doing the same.

“No! He hasn’t earned that fucking right. He hasn’t been here AT ALL in over 5 years. Why is that?! Oh, that’s right, he signed him over. Charlie had plenty of chances to be there for him and he failed! WE raised him and he thinks he can just waltz back in and be a part of something like that?!”

“Steve! Breathe.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he cups his face in his hands. “Breathe. I get where you are coming from. I said all of the same things to him when he came to the shop. But… I get it from Dylan’s side to. Remember when I finally graduated? I was so excited that Wayne was there but there was still a part of me… that wished my mom and dad could see me finally do it to. A lot of that was to spite them and show them I could do it.”, he chuckled making Steve smile. “But a lot of it was also the little kid in me wanting them there.”

The man in his arms heavily exhaled before tilting forward to kiss his lips and gesturing for Eddie to bring him in.

“I warned you before, Charlie, about hurting my son. If we talk to him and he wants you there and you don’t show up…I swear to God—”

“No, no. I understand. I’ll move heaven and earth to be there I swear.”

“Yeah to bad you couldn’t do that for him or Brody before.”

“Steve.”, Eddie warned.

“No, he’s right. I always said I’d never be like my stepdad yet… I’m, um, glad he’s had you two. I’m working with Vivian to be there for Brody. I’m trying…”

“You understand if he or Y/N says no, then the answer is no?”

“Yeah, I understand. Thank you for hearing me out though. I know I don’t deserve it.”

***

Your eyes constantly raked across them during dinner while they ate. Both men seemed completely distracted but especially Steve. 

“I’m done. I’m going to go play games upstairs.”, Dylan announces as he stands from the table. 

“Ah, kid, do you mind staying for a bit?”, Eddie asked throwing the two of you off guard. “Are you done to?”, he asks Ro as she beams up at him with her messy face. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Can you take this troublemaker and go watch tv please?”, he laughs as Steve blind sides her with a napkin to wipe her mouth and the other boy pulls James out of his chair, placing him on the floor. 

Aurora grabs her brother’s hand, giggling as they run to the tv in the living room. They wait until the sound of a show blares from that area before Eddie leans forward on his elbows and Steve leans back folding his arms. 

“I don’t know how to ease into this so I’m just going to say it. Charlie came to visit me and Steve today.”

Your eyes widen as your head ticks to the side while Dylan sighs mirroring Steve’s posture. 

“Whatever it is the answer is no.”

“Y/N…please. He said all he wanted was to see Dylan graduate from high school.”

“After everything he’s done?!”

“Yeah, I already went down that road, baby, but Eddie seems to think it’s worth the conversation.”, Steve exhaled heavily. 

“Do you?”, his son asked. “What did you say when he asked?”

“I told him that it was up to you and Y/N. If you two said you were fine with it—”

“But you don’t want him there?”

Steve glances towards Eddie who gives him a look of subtle warning.

“No, I don’t.”, he answers honestly causing the metalhead to huff in frustration. “I don’t feel like he’s earned that luxury after everything he’s done and put you through. But…I also feel like it’s your choice. If you want him there then he should be there. You know no matter what, kid, you’re still my son. It won’t hurt my feelings if you want him there.”

“Our feelings.”, Eddie added. “I get what Steve is saying but I’ve been on the other side. My dad was in prison when I graduated. I was ecstatic Wayne was there but…”

Dylan’s soft eyes shift towards you as he reaches for your hand. 

“Mom?”

“I just…I don’t want him to hurt you. I don’t you to get your hopes up and then he doesn’t show.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Stevie already threatened him if he didn’t show.”, Eddie grinned making your son laugh. 

“I’d, um, I’d like to talk with him before I make a decision if that’s alright.”

***

“Baby?”, Eddie cooed as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist while you leaned in the doorway of James’s room. Steve had fallen asleep in the toddler’s little racecar bed, his frame much too big for the mattress underneath as his legs hung off the side. His arm was holding the small boy to his side as he rested his sleeping head on his father’s chest. 

“Eddie, why do you think everything with Charlie affects him so much more?”

“Hm, sweetheart, it affects us both about the same but Steve here just sucks at hiding it. I love Dylan with my heart and would do anything for him. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him going to graduation doesn’t make me angry but if that’s what our son wants then I want him to be happy.” You nod at his statement, giving the man pause. “How does it make you feel? Be honest.”

“I don’t want him to go. I don’t…trust that he’ll actually show up. I feel like Steve right now where I just want to tell Dylan that we’re his parents and the answer is no so we can protect him.”

“The problem with that, my love, is you don’t know for 100% if that will be the outcome. I mean look at what happened with your mom.”

“Eddie, he’s my baby.”

“I know, babe. I know.”, he soothes as he turns you around and wraps you in his arms. 

***

“When he gets here, do you want us to leave you two alone?”, the metalhead asked as the three of them waited at a table in the nearby Hawkins Diner.

“Not like alone, alone though. We’d be a couple of tables away.”, Steve assured confidently, trying to push down all of the emotions he was feeling. 

“Can you stay, please? I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little terrified.”

“Terrified how, bud? You don’t have to do this if you’re uncom—”

“Steve! Calm down, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckles as he rubs his back comfortingly. 

Dylan reached for his father’s hand and flashed him a big smile. 

“Everything’s going to be ok, dad. No matter what you both are always going to be my real fathers.”

As they beamed over at him, a figure caught Eddie’s eye as it quickly turned to leave. 

“Hey, I’m, uh, I’m going to go smoke before he gets here. I’ll be right back.”

Throwing on his jacket, the long-haired boy hastily power walked towards the front door, opening it just in time to see Charlie heading back to his truck. 

“HEY! No. No, no, no, no.”, he shouted as he ran to block his path. “No. You are NOT doing this to him. You’re here now just get the fuck in there and talk to him.”

“I-I-I can’t. I saw him and… he looks so different now. That’s not my little boy anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t—”

Eddie abruptly shoved the man against his vehicle, cutting him off. 

“You’re right. He’s not a little boy anymore. Unfortunately, you missed that because you were too fucking selfish. Now you have a chance to be a part of his adult life if that’s what he wants but, Charlie, if you walk away now that is never going to happen. Don’t be a fucking coward. He’s a good kid.”

“Because of you two. He fucking hates me.”

“Believe it or not, he doesn’t. Dylan thinks YOU hate HIM.”

“What? No. I love him and Brody so much.”

“Then where the fuck have you been?!”, he sighs releasing him from his hold. “He’s graduating with honors and a baseball scholarship to any school he chooses. He wants to go to a school up north with his girlfriend to major in music and education so he can become a music teacher. Dylan has worked so hard to get here. Don’t ruin it with your bullshit.”

Eddie shakes his head as he saunters back inside and plops down next to Steve. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, he grins but his husband can see right through it. 

Placing his arm around the back of his chair, he leans close to his ear. 

“You’ll tell me later?”

A throat clears startling everyone as they turn to see Charlie standing beside the table. 

“Hi. Hey.”, his voice trembles as he shakes Eddie and Steve’s hands before turning to give Dylan his attention. “Hey, um, wow. Jesus. You look so much like your mom.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you. She thinks I look like you. To be fair she thinks none of her kids look like her.”

“Yeah? How many siblings do you have now?”

“Not including Brody, two. A sister and another brother.”

Your ex nods taking a seat as Dylan folds his arms over his chest. The guys were trying their best to stay as out of the way as they could while still being present for their son.

“So, uh--”

“Why do you want to come to my graduation?”, the boy asked bluntly. “My entire life you never went to anything that I was involved in and then signed me away. Why do you care?”

“I didn’t…sign you away… I just…I was never good at being a dad.”

“Why didn’t you try? Was it because of me?”

“No. God, no. Dylan, to me you were…are… absolutely perfect. I love you with all my heart. That’s why I signed those papers. After talking with your mom, I realized these two would be a better father for you than I ever could.”

Your son nods, sighing under his breath as he collects his thoughts. 

“Mom will be there and Vivian to. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t realize they were talking to each other.”

“They aren’t. Dylan wanted to get to know Brody and Vivian missed him so Y/N lets him go to her house on the weekends.”, Steve explained. 

“Wow. It seems a lot has changed.”

“It’s been 5 years, Charlie. What did you expect?”

Your ex flinched at the sound of Dylan using his name but unlike the incident with Steve, it didn’t bother your son. He had long since moved past feeling like Charlie was his dad and could honestly never see himself calling him that again. 

“I don’t want you to go to my graduation but, maybe, we could get together and get to know each other again. Work our way up to having a relationship… I mean if mom and my dads are okay with it.”

“Yeah, Dil. I’d like that.”

Hearing Charlie call him that again stuck a raw nerve he kept tucked away for the last five years causing him to abruptly rise from his seat. 

“Ok, I’m ready to go now.”, he announces without waiting for an answer and flying out the front door. 

“Thank you guys for this. Tell Y/N I said thank you to.”

“Oh, she didn’t approve of this either. I’m the only one that seems to be slightly on your side but that’s because I know what it’s like to have your father abandon you.”, Eddie exhales as he and Steve get up as well.

“I didn’t…I didn’t abandon him.”

“Yeah, sure. Neither did my dad. He just boosted cars and ended up in jail for the rest of his life. It’s not his fault.”, he responded sarcastically. “Step one on rebuilding your relationship with him Charlie… Own your mistakes.”

################

“No Grandpa! You have to wear the crown because you’re a princess.”, Aurora giggled as she places the colorfully crown she created out of paper onto Wayne’s head. 

“I’m a princess? Not a King?”

“No.”, she laughs harder, cover her mouth with her little hand. 

Beaming over at them from your place on the floor, you and James continue to color in his little coloring book Eddie’s uncle had brought over. 

“Granpa, purty.”

“Thank you, James. I do feel beautiful.”

The alarm beeps as the front door opens and you do everything in your power not to get up to run to them anxiously. 

“Oh wow, Wayne. I must say, you make a gorgeous queen.”, Eddie teases.

“For your information, son, I’m a princess.”

The metalhead chuckles as they come to sit by you in the living room and your son immediately crawls to Steve to show him his pictures. 

“Dada, look.”

The sound of Dylan’s feet subtly bang up the stairs as he heads for his room and closes the door. 

“He’s ok, baby. Just needs some time alone.”, your husband assures. 

“What happened? Did he show up?” They gave you a recount of everything that happened including Eddie telling you both about him almost leaving. “I can’t say I’m not happy he won’t be going but who knows. Maybe in these six months Dylan may change his mind.”

The next couple of days went by with little to no fan fair as Christmas break finally came. That Friday after coming home from work, you checked the mail like you normally do except a college insignia catches your eye. Running full speed into the house, you drop everything as you scream your son’s name.

“Jesus Christ, woman. What is happening?!”, Eddie exclaims as he slides in from the kitchen.

As Dylan sprints down the stairs with Steve in tow, you present him with the envelope he had been waiting weeks for. Hastily, he yanks it from your grasp and tears it open as you dance on the balls of your feet. 

“Oh my god.”

“What? Is it good news? Bad news?”

With wide tear-filled eyes, a small grin spreads along his face. 

“I got in.”

All the adults in the room shout in excitement as you tackle hug your arms around him. 

“Baby, oh my god. I’m so proud of you!”

“Good job, Dylan.”, Eddie beams. “You’ll be the first Munson to go to college.”

“I’m proud of you to, little man.”, Steve smiles softly as he gives the boy a hug. 

“I’m going to go call Daisy. I love you guys!”, he declares as he speeds back up to his room. 

The metalhead holds up his index finger in your direction as both men tilt their head and wait for his door to close before the other boy nods. As soon as you get the go ahead, you fall into their arms and begin to cry. 

“I know, baby. He grew up too fast. We’re going to miss him to.”

***

“Ok, I finally got Aurora and James to sleep. Eddie is in the kitchen eating Santa’s cook—“, Steve froze when he finally entered the bedroom and noticed the image before him. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed in a velvet red lingerie dress that cut off just so on your thigh barely hiding your panty less crotch with the white fluff that wrapped around the bottom. Your hair was curled and flowed down your shoulders as the Santa hat you wore sat perfectly on your head. 

“I thought you two could open this present early.”, you grin in a seductive voice as you cross your legs and lean back on your hands. 

“Eddie…”, Steve tried to call with a needy crack in his tone. “E-Ed-Eddie… EDWARD!”

“What!?”, the metalhead whisper shouts making you giggle. “Dude, lower your voice. You’re gonna wake—” While he was talking, the man pulled his collar to hurry him up and your grin grew as the other boy’s mouth fell open as well. 

“Get in here, you dorks.”, you tease as you get up, pull them both into the bedroom, and shut the door. “I was thinking we could try something Eddie has mentioned a few times.”

“Oh my god, I’m so in love with you.”, Steve sighs happily as he lifts you into his arms and spins you around before placing a kiss on your lips. “Do we get to handcuff him? Please tell me we do!”

“If you both want.”

Eddie giddily climbs into the bed, kissing your lips before a thought crosses his mind. 

“Wait, we haven’t handcuffed Steve to the bed yet and I feel like this whole edging thing would be way more fun to do to him… Mr. I’m-the-big-protector-guy.”

The pretty boy rolls his eyes as he falls on to his back, lifting off his shirt, and throwing it in his husband’s face playfully. 

Pushing some of your hair behind your ear, you restrain him to the headboard as the metalhead pulls off the boy’s sweats and boxers. 

“Should we have like a safe word or something? You both get sensitive quickly and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”, you ask in a soft, loving voice that makes him smile. 

“I’ve heard ‘Red’ is a good word.”, Eddie offers, grinning when you both nod in affirmation. 

“Say ‘Red’ if I’m uncomfortable. Got it.”, Steve repeats, smirking when you put your Santa hat on his head. “You know, you’re pretty sensitive to, fyi.” 

“I guess next time, we’ll have to test that theory.”, you tease as you run your palm through the hair on his chest and over to his side. “Ok, my love, do you want to start since you’re the sexual deviant that’s been looking up this stuff?”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously as he leans over the other boy’s stomach to kiss your lips. 

“You…like…it.”, Eddie coos between each peck. 

As you continue to rub his chest, Steve’s breathing stutters as the man he loves take his cock in his warm hands and begins slowly stroking him. 

“How does that feel, baby?”

“G-good. Really good. I like when y-you both touch me.”

Your palm slides up his neck to his cheek and he tenderly kisses your thumb as it grazes his lips. Shifting your body, you curl up on his side as you listen to the sound of Eddie spit over his tip and smear it along his length making Steve’s mouth open in a silent O.

“Fuck, Eddie, baby.”

Trailing kisses along his side, your hands and nails continue to roam his upper torso as his back arches at the sensations. As your husband’s ringed hand pumps him faster, Steve bites his bottom lip to suppress the loud moan that wants to escape. 

“You look so handsome like this.”, you whisper as you tenderly move some of his hair away from his face. “Keep talking to us, Stevie. Please.”

“C-Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Too…too good.”

Beaming towards the other man, he winks at you as he drops another glob of spit over Steve’s tip as the boy ruts up into his hand. You both know his tells for when he’s about to let go; you’ve all studied each other very well over these past almost 12 years. Just as Steve was nearing his release…Eddie let him go and leaned back on his knees. 

“N-No. No, no, no!”

“How are we feeling now, Harrington?”

The man huffed as he tugged on his restraints before groaning with need as Eddie wrapped his lips around his cock taking him all the way down to the back of his throat. After kissing his lips, you trailed your own down his chest to his stomach and stopping just above the base of shaft. 

The metalhead came off him with a syrupy smack, stroking the man with his hand as he leaned towards you to passionately kiss your lips. The two of you played with Steve for a good long while, taking turns bringing him to the edge just before pulling back. His cock was dripping with both your saliva, angry and red from all the teasing. 

As you glanced his way, his eyes were squeezed shut as he muttered things under his breath. 

“Steve, honey? Are you ok?”

His eyes opened abruptly, meeting yours with a fire you hadn’t seen from him in a very long time.

“Eddie, let him go.”, you breathily moaned as his intense gaze never left yours. 

The moment the cuffs came off, Steve’s sweaty frame practically tackled your own as he lifted you into his arms and spun you around making you giggle at his earnestness as your head hit the pillows. His lips devoured yours as if it had been ages since he tasted your kisses. Hissing at your touch, you reached between you both and guided him into your entrance. Before he could make any kind of movement, Eddie took hold of his hips and slide into the man above you. 

Steve was anything but gentle as he slammed his lower half into you both desperately chasing his release. 

“Oh…oh my God, baby. Just like that.”, you whimpered as his head feel beside you, latching his lips to your neck. 

Glancing up to your other husband, his hair blocked his face as he grunted and clung to Steve’s waist as he met each thrust with a hard, rough one of his own. 

The bed underneath you began to shake and the metalhead quickly reached up to hold it still with his palm.

“Fuck, Steve. You feel so fucking good. I love you, baby. M-Make me cum.”

Clinging to his hair and back, he pounded into you till the coil snapped and your pussy clenched tightly around him. The sound he made in your ear drove you crazy as his body trembled on top of yours and you felt his seed release inside of you. As he aggressively thrust it deep into your cunt, Eddie fell against his back, and held his chest as he came inside of the man below him.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, that was amazing.”, the metalhead panted. “Steve, sweetheart, are you ok?”

“I think he fell asleep.”, you giggled as you petted the boy’s head. “Stevie, baby?”

“Hm?”, he grumbled as he snuggled closer to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm…mmhmm…”, he nodded. 

“As much as I would love for you to fall asleep inside of me, it’s Christmas eve. You know at 7am those kids are going to burst through our door.”

Groaning, he nods as he rolls off you with Eddie immediately ready with a pair of boxers and rag to wipe him off. After making sure Steve was set, your husband grinned as he lifted you into his arms, disrobed you, and placed you in the shower as he delicately cleaned you. 

“I love you to, baby.”, you smile up at him as he kisses your forehead. 

“I love you even more. You looked really gorgeous in that outfit and I’m sure Steven will agree when he’s more coherent.”, he chuckles. 

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he does the same as he rests his chin on your head. 

“You know these next few months I’m going to need you two to help me hold it together.”

“I know, sweetheart. I can’t even picture Dylan not being in this house anymore. God, and we’re both going to have to be on Steve duty because you know he’s going to be a mess to.”

################

While Eddie and Steve sip their coffee, you pat James’s back as he curled up around you after opening all his presents and went back to sleep. 

While Aurora was distracted with her morning cartoons, Dylan had gone upstairs to change and came back down just as your doorbell rang. Passing the baby to one of his fathers, you threw on your jacket and opened the front door to a fiddling Charlie. 

“Oh, um, hey Y/N. Merry…Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, so you’re taking him to Vivian’s?”

“Um, yes, ma’am. She’s letting me spend the day with Brody so I asked Dylan if he wanted to join and he said yes.”

Turning to your son, you fixed his ski cap before kissing his cheek. 

“No detours to Daisy’s ok? I want you home straight after for dinner.”

Smiling at you, he jogs towards your ex’s truck and quickly climbs into the heat. 

“Thank you for this. I really appreciate it…after everything.”

“Don’t thank me, Charles. Thank those men in there. I still think this is a bad idea because of everything but we all just want our son to be happy. But I swear to God…I’m not the same woman I was 18 years ago. If you hurt him—”

“I know…your, uh, boyfriends threatened me already.”

“Husbands. Oh, they’ll be the first wave but I’ll be the finishing move. I’m not weak anymore.”

“You never were.” His response startles you as you hug your arms tighter around your body and he softly smiles. “I’ll have him back in a few hours.”

As you reentered the house, their eyes watched you as you sit beside them on the couch still hugging yourself. Ringed fingers threaded through your hair before turning you to face them. 

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. It’s just weird seeing Charlie be this way.”

“I can understand that. It’s like if my dad came through that door with a smile and a Santa level of presents.”, Steve sighed. 

“Are you both ok? I told him to be home for dinner that way after we eat maybe you three can play that new game we got him.”

“It’s whatever he wants, baby. I try to remember what it was like when I was his age and I never wanted to be home.”, the pretty boy laughs. “So, the fact that he likes hanging out with us at all makes me happy.”

Eddie nods in agreement as James wiggles in his embrace. 

“Daddy. Yames…hungee…”, the boy babbles as he taps his mouth with his palm. 

“I guess it is that time to start fattening him up so we can have him plump enough to eat for dinner later.”

“No, daddy! Don’t be mean to James.”, Aurora scolds as her brother giggles. 

“Come on, you. Let’s see if Santa left us anymore cookies in our pantry.”

#########

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

daisy, porn links vol. 3

this one is centred around their summer after high school (chapter 10) and the time after the series (college vibes, we love)

there might be spoilers in this for the series

daisy series masterlist – p links vol. 1 – vol. 2 – vol. 4 – vol. 5

school is over and summer is upon us. sure, Steve is a bit sad that he's gonna have to say goodbye to the uniform, but it's good that he can cheer himself up a bit with flowy summer dresses...

beg and beg and beg on his knees till you occasionally wear them without anything under. give him easy access to tease you to his hearts content. watch as he gets you literally dripping down your thighs and wound up in a way that he might not even be ready for. although welcome the happy surprise none the less. it's his fault, if you can't get enough of him after he has cum, then that's his problem. he'll just have to take it (which he happily does omg, you can overstimulate him as much as you want)

and i mentioned that they go out on all sorts of adventures that summer? this one gives me trip to lovers lake. it starts off by Steve helping you with touching up your sunscreen and turns into this. he'd be whispering in your ear about how you never know who else could get the same urge for a dip in the water, maybe someone is just around the corner? maybe someone is already lurking behind those trees over there...

he'd totally also do that kind of thing where you go through all your memories together, like travel to the places where they happened. one day he takes you out into the woods at the exact spot where he told you that he loved you. it started out with him just being like well we have to reenact the kiss, but then before you knew it this happened.

and that road trip? *screams* CAR SEX!

he will make such a mess all over the seats...(ignore that the car is actually moving in this one lol)

and even at night when he's maybe driving the last bit before getting to one of the motels you were staying at, you're getting sleepy, getting comfy in the seat beside him. he just has his hand glued on your thigh, caressing it dangerously high. and the sleepier you get, the more you slump in the seat, gliding down and causing your dress to ride up... well, let's just say that he keeps you awake till you reach the motel...

but eventually you arrive at college, now with a new roomie at your little student apartment...

one could say that he's amazing company

he is your best friend after all

and now he's always just right there, ready to distract and help you relax, counteract some of that uni stress that is inevitable

one day you come home totally ready to fall back on the instant ramen that keeps so many students alive. but then, just as you enter the small kitchen, there is Steve! apparently, he's sick of watching you live off that stuff just because you don't have time. I have the time, I can learn how to cook! can't be that hard. so it becomes a ritual on days when your classes run long. you come home and sit up on the counter, watching the last few moments as he finishes up dinner

as soon as the food is in the oven and his hands are free, the pants are flying off! I've got you, ace, I've got you, he will whisper while keeping you from slipping off tiny sliver of the counter you're balancing on as he pounds into you

and even though you were done with private school, he still made sure you kept the uniform...

and living together means showering together.

and you two tend to get dirty so easily...

guess that just means a lot of showers!

steve, are you seriously hard again? I literally just blew you in the shower.

the former high school athlete even convinces you to join him at the gym, even if that just means never getting past your warm up because holy shit is your boyfriend hot when he's working out

you don't really wanna go to any college parties, but Steve keeps telling you how it's a crucial experience and that he'll go with you so that you won't get bored or even anxious. sure, you could say that he makes sure you have fun... he drags you into the frat house's bathroom after maybe a few too many shots, makes you stare at your own reflection as he fucks you from behind, telling you to ignore the crowd of guys that eventually gather outside the door once your activities became clear over the loud music. although, you can't help but notice how his own moans and grunts become louder as the audience outside offer drunken comments

one new years, this is his resolution. that's all. he just wants to train your throat throughout the new year so that you'll eventually be able to take him like that.

it's not because he needs you to learn that skill. you truly don't need to do anything but smile at him and he's blowing his load

and he knows he's huge and that you can barely even handle the tip, but fuck if he doesn't wanna try...

he just loves you so crazy much

and living together also means just all of the cosy domestic moments

just lazy little moments like this

an alarm clock? what even is that

from now on Steve is your alarm. he'll never let you get up late for class...

long story short, having your best friend as a roomie was a good idea

probably the best idea ever

[atxxzist]

broken | c.s (10)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 6.5k

warning: u r gonna have 2 read to find out (nothing traumatizing tho i promise!)

"so, you were playing tags with the kids and fell?"

"yes."

you vividly recall the lies you told your friends--how you got the cut on your knees being one of them amongst others--but they were just happy you made it back safely and didn't get any more hurt than that.

after returning to seoul, your days are back to being nothing short of mundane tasks, hanging with your friends and enduring yunho's constant whines because minji had to go back, and then the mostly lazing around in your room and doing anything to pass time.

but with your eyes stuck to the ceiling and your head hitting the back of your pillow for the majority, your mind can't help but to wander.

wander back to the trip and how sweet and caring san was. his lips that spoke genuine words toward you, and his eyes that showed something much deeper in them. something much more than just physical touches and empty sex; something that could've fooled anyone into thinking he's in love with you.

but by now, you've learned to not keep your head too high because choi san will only give you false hopes, never failing to remind you of what exactly the relationship between you and him really is--if his silence ever since the trip speaks of anything.

no texts, no calls; no renditions of such thing that will give away you were just in his arms a week ago. but you've come to terms with it that it is fine; unsure if the small ache is disappointment (if that's even possible anymore) or just being sad overall.

but again, you've accepted the situation to some degree.

you focus on integrating yourself back into the school mindset where academic achievements were the center of your universe (for the most part), since the semester is around the corner again.

and because the semester is around the corner, mingi and yunho wanted to check out a place; a noodle restaurant recommended by a friend of mingi, eager to go because of all the positive reviews.

"so how do we do this? paper rock scissors and whoever loses have to pay?" mingi quirks, one eyebrows raised and flipping through the menu.

"nah. y/n makes the most money, this is her treat to us," yunho says, to which you react with a scowl.

"says who? i don't even have work during summer."

"what happened to that program you were talking about?" mingi throws in your face, and it's only until then that you remember the 'summer program' you supposedly came back from.

"that was less than a week and we don't get paid much compared to the regular hours," you save yourself, somewhat even proud for having thought of a lie so fast on the spot.

mingi rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"greedy. you are so fucking greedy."

you shrug, unable to help it all.

"well, i'm sorry. i've never had this much money before."

"don't make this dark now."

it's your turn to roll your eyes.

"fine, i'll pay. but nothing over ten dollars."

"stingy too, how unfortunate," mingi mutters, provoking a kick to his ankle from you under the table, lasering a glare in return.

in spite of all the teasing and snarky remarks, because you have a soft spot for him and is silently thankful for all mr. song had done for you, you give in and let him order three bowls of naengmyeon, two of which he's probably not even going to finish.

yunho on the other hand is nice enough to spare your wallet a little, settling on only one that's enough for the evening.

summer feels like it's passing by in a blink of an eye. like it was just yesterday that you, mingi, and yunho were fighting over what to do and where to go. now all of a sudden, you're going to be back on campus soon enough, wallowing in the pit of assignments and exams that will eat away your mental health.

it's an awful vision, because you don't want to let go of this summer.

mingi and yunho are chatting about their library assistant jobs, and you're listening with attentive ears, chopsticks poking at your noodles when a buzz goes off in your bag.

your body reacts first, eyes shooting to your friends who's still lost in the conversation, knowing it can't be them who texted you. and unless yuna is coming home early, there's only one other person who has your number.

🟣: hey 🙂 are you free to call tonight? i want to talk to you abt something. lmk.

y/n: i'm out right now but should be back soon. i'll let you know

🟣: sounds good! talk to you then 💕

it's relieving until it's not. the highs and lows alternating like getting a hit of your favorite drug before the effect wears off and you just feel nothing. numb. all too used to it, aware it's not good for you but unable to stop.

how long will it go on before declaring that something so temporary and unsecured is unfulfilling, no matter how good the high is.

not anytime soon, unfortunately.

you text him with excitement upon the return, the dinner over a lot earlier than you had expected; yunho having talked about some paperworks he still has to finish, and mingi for finishing all three bowls and groaning about the food coma he's going through.

y/n: just got back. call me whenever

you sit with a fluttering kind of excitement, thinking about what could possibly be this important to prompt a call from san this late, but also honestly just ecstatic to hear from him again.

it takes a few minutes before the ring of your phone starts, having answered so fast, there's no way he doesn't know you were sitting in nothingness just waiting for his call.

"hey," he greets from the other side.

"hey," you respond just short of a shy whisper.

"i hope i'm not prolonging sleep for you."

"no, you're good. i'm not even that tired."

you wonder if san really cares whether you're getting sleep or not or if it's just proper courtesy to act like he does when he took a girl out on a week-long trip, only to disregard her completely after like the moments and hours spent with each other means nothing.

"no worries, i'll make this fast," he says, clearing his throat. "wooyoung's throwing another party before school starts, and i called to ask if you want to come with? it's going to be a couple days from now, so you'll have plenty of time to be prepared."

it's quiet as you take the time to think, knowingly aware of the fact that taking up the offer to be seen publicly with san at wooyoung's party has a lot of things at stake.

"no pressure, just thought i'd ask," he adds when the silence only stretches on.

"i'll be there," you say so suddenly, like all the thoughts and logics from before flying out your head just for the one chance to see the boy who made you question so many things within the past few days.

"okay, cool. i'll text you the detail when the time comes."

you don't get anything from san until the day before the actual party.

a simple text from him about picking you up and when it's going to start so you will have the time to compose yourself for the loud and obnoxious setting of what one usually consists of.

you have made sure to double check when you were exiting the dorm building that nobody you know happened to coincidentally see you get into his car--a fight with your friends with only a few weeks left of summer not on your wishlist.

you guys arrive a little past 8 p.m., san proceeding to drag you through the house almost the same way mingi did; brushing past the hoard of drunk people, whatever they're smoking, and the flashy lights that comes in all colors.

you catch a sighting of that old couch that was the best company at both the event you attended prior, pushed against the wall and a lot discolored this time around.

with the amount of parties wooyoung probably throws, you're honestly impressed it's still even intact.

but you're quick to pry away, moving back around only to hit right into san's back at the sudden stop. he turns to you and giggles at the wide look on your face, having noticed your curious eyes that would roam each passing scene.

"we can stay in here, it's a lot less crowded," he says, and you nod in return, doing a once-over of the room and recognizing the kitchen where you first talked to him. a place so bittersweet.

"i'm gonna go get us drinks first. punch or beer?"

"i'll take some punch."

"alright. i'll be back."

you watch him disappear behind the crowd of people and begin looking for a spot to settle in.

there's two guys over at the corner with red solo cups, chatting away and seemingly paying no attention to anyone else. then another pair of girls by the counters also engaged in a conversation.

while it's not your definition of peace and quiet, you'll take it over the rave going on just a couple feet outside.

you prop against the counter closest to the sink and wait until you can see san's figure making its way back in, one cup in each hand and walking to where you are.

"thank you," you utter as he hands you yours, placing his on the empty space and settling in front of you, observing as you take a slight sip.

"they changed the flavor," you comment, licking some remains off your lips.

"yeah, every once in a while," he replies, taking a swig of his cup before putting it down again.

you nod, biting down your bottom lip and thinking of what to say next; another question at the tip of your tongue again.

"do you uh... come to these parties often?"

he was here all of the two times you came and talked about them on more than one occasion. you suppose, it's only a given someone like him would come to a place full of entertainment; each passing person walking with confidence and unfazed by anything.

after all, he is the life of the party.

"once or twice a week. sometimes three."

the numbers leaving him like they're small quantities. but two or three definitely sounds like a lot, especially if you're talking about a party of this size. you wonder just how much resources wooyoung is wasting.

"i see..." you simply mumble, quiet under your breath.

"how's your knee?" he asks, prompting you to take a quick glance at it, the once before red color turning into a lighter pink, and the pain feeling like a much dull one.

"it's healing."

he nods, attention moving to down another sip.

"did your friends ask?"

"they did, but they bought the story i told them."

he chuckles and shakes his head, a smirk creeping up.

"you know, you're a lot more cunning than you let on."

"i must be around you too much," you tease with the subtle jab, cranking the volume of his laughter as he stares at you so charmingly. and charming he is indeed, you have officially lost count of the amount of partygoers that would flock to the kitchen to greet him; talk to him, like he's the brightest flame in the room. a complete people magnet.

you can only deliver small, awkward head exchanges with them while san oozes all the confidence and charisma in the world. you will always be amazed at how someone like san and mingi can just talk to anyone.

the small smile on your face can't be helped, watching him in his natural element, making something inside of you churn with admiration but a painful realization all at once.

his eyes peers across the room, bidding goodbyes to the ones leaving and then hello's to the next person to come in, all while your gaze only hold his as if he has all the answers to your problems--like he's the embodiment of hope.

you're also drawn to him; his brightly lit flame, no different to any others in the room.

"this is y/n." san's voice snaps you out, blinking your lashes to a boy whose hair is bleached in blonde and staring at you with equally amusing eyes, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

"she's cute," he comments courtly, parting with a smile and going off to join the two from before at the corner, their introductions audibly out of your range.

"that's chris," san starts again, your attention moving back to him. "he's studying abroad, but just thought i'd let you know of his existence because you're going to see him quite a bit if you're going to start attending more of these."

you only hum in acknowledgement and nod, not stressing too much about having to remember chris or anything, unsure how many more of these parties you'll be showing up to.

little do you know, this party will be the start of all rendezvous between you and san, all of them similar in a way but each with their own variations.

yuna returns two days before classes officially starts.

attempting to roll in her pink suitcase, sunhat, and jumpsuit, she announces her arrival to your figure still stuck on your bed with feet kicking into the air as you randomly jot down your new schedule onto your notebook.

"hey, you're back," you cry out, jumping right out of bed to help her squeeze through the doorway.

"yes i am."

"how was the trip?"

she sighs, throwing her hat off to the end of her bed where it lands perfectly.

"good for the most part. i would've gotten back earlier but the flight from japan to korea got delayed due to some weather issues. then my father lost his ticket and had to repurchase. but overall decent."

you laugh, reaching behind to shut the door.

"good to hear."

yuna almost forgot what she was going to do until she catches the notebook sitting openly on your sheet.

"oh, right!" you watch with an intrigued gaze as she digs through the bag on her shoulder.

"i got you something."

you can't even be surprised by the act. it's just so yuna of her for you to joke about something and her to actually do it.

"you didn't have to. i was just kidding around."

she shakes her head and pulls the item out: a new and shiny notebook covered in yellow with cartoon characters on the front, a lot thicker in appearance and holding much more pages.

"no worries. i wanted to. saw it while in japan and automatically thought of you."

the way your heart pulls together at the act of kindness brings about the biggest smile on your face, you could almost leap in and give her a hug.

"thank you," you say, so soft and tender, the idiot smile still haven't left.

"of course! i wanted to get you something computer-related but i don't know much about those, so i apologize. i saw you writing in your notebook a lot so i figured maybe you like writing."

you chuckle in response, thinking to yourself that for someone who's rarely ever around, she's awfully observant, even picking it out in your favorite color.

"well, i'm glad you didn't because i am traumatized by it. i changed my major a while ago."

"oh?" she perks with some form of fascination. "to writing?"

"yes. creative writing."

"you know, i have an uncle who runs a firm and he's always looking for technical writers for their products, as well as for their website and whatnot. i mean, i don't know if that's exactly creative writing, but if that's something that piques your interest, let me know."

"isn't that like... nepotism?" you're joking for the most part but also with a genuine curioisity about being able to secure a job because of your rich friend. but then again, your current job was only because of san as well.

"i have no idea, but if you're decent, my uncle has no reason to not hire you. food for thought. if you want to wait until graduation, that's fine too. just let me know."

the one day left of summer is spent fulfilling a promise you made to mingi and yunho about catching a movie at the theater. a new, better, theater with adjustable seatings and the outside not littered with graffitis.

it's a little bit more costly, but you all agreed it was worth it.

the walk back to the dorms is pure torture for you, both of the boys unable to stop the teasing about your sudden passion for writing.

for as long as they've known you, that's definitely one they've never heard before, bringing up all the times you'd stick to reading picture books (because to be a good writer is to read a lot according to them) and struggled writing a 500 words essay.

"you guys literally can't expect me to be the same person a year or so ago. my interests can change, and my brain is still developing. mingi, you're a psychology major, you should know that!" you shriek in defense.

"well, yes, but, there's just some changes about you lately. tell us, when did this interest start?"

you roll your eyes, a deep groan leaving.

"do you guys have to know every detail?"

"obviously yes, so we can talk you out of it, miss wannabe nobel prize winner in literature."

"mingi, literally shut the fuck up. you gave one advice and suddenly you're a psycologist."

"hey, it's all working out so far, isn't it?"

yunho laughs at the banter, waiting until he's in the clear to say something.

"we're kidding. well, i'm kidding. anything you write, i'll be happy to read. even if it's just prince charming coming on a horse to save you."

mingi snickers.

"don't give her ideas now."

"i literally hate the both of you."

intro to creative writing. whether it's to prove both of your friends wrong, or to console yourself that you're worthy of yuna's offer, you want to take it seriously; dive into it that's more than just the short entries in your notebook or the vivid imagination in your head.

thankfully, within just an hour into the class, you can say the environment is a lot more friendly and welcoming. a good divide of both males and females and everyone definitely looks a lot more approachable.

the first week of classes is nothing special. instructors usually just taking the time to go over the course schedule and what's to be expected.

the second week is when you start kind of getting into the gist of it. the class tasked with a short literary piece and dissecting the meaning behind it.

it's not anything exciting, but is an overall improvement to your experience so far.

the third week is when you get another text from san. when you're mostly busy and occupied, it's easy to not think of him. but when he reminds you of his existence again, it's hard to think of anything but him--which is the problem.

he tells you of the party that usually happens at the beginning of the semester, and you're starting to think they have one for just any occasion. or maybe wooyoung just needs a reason to keep throwing these parties.

you're hesitant at first, unsure about spending your night at a place full of alcohol, weed, and people who probably doesn't remember their name since that's the last thing that should be on your mind if you want to take your courses more seriously.

but all it takes is another plead from san for you to fold pathetically, arriving at the party with him hand in hand.

it plays out all the same, with him pulling you through the open spaces and greeting the few he knows along the way, big dimples and a handsome smile before excusing himself to go off with you to the kitchen.

it is all the same as well, just a little more crowded this time perhaps, but that doesn't stop him from backing you into a counter as you gawk at him wide-eyed.

he's not shy to deliver a kiss to your jawline, his hands finding way around your hips and resting on them with ease.

only until you whisper something does he pull away, watching how you move your eyes to the strangers also in the room, a rosy pink shade decorating your flustered cheeks.

"t-there's people here."

he has to giggle it off, your adorable nature truly the saving grace because if you already think a kiss is going to faze these people, he thinks you might go into cardiac arrest knowing the shit they actually do at events like this.

"they don't mind, trust me," he assures, his grip tightening around your hips before lounging forward for a deep kiss.

then every party after that is similar in that it starts all the same, with san eventually leading the way to the kitchen and if you guys are lucky and there's no one, he does more than just a kiss.

if not the kitchen, you guys will hang in the hallway or bathroom upstairs, make out and lose a sense of time, and maybe have sex the couple instances you guys were lucky to have found an empty bedroom.

chris is there every time, always in a corner or lurking somewhere in the background, sometimes even watching the door for you and san.

“that’s chris,” san starts again, your attention moving back to him.

“he’s studying abroad, but just thought i’d let you know of his existence because you’re going to see him quite a bit if you’re going to start attending more of these.”

you've come to develop some sort of attachment to chris at these parties, that if san was nowhere in sight, you would turn him--the only other person you knew.

and an almost perfect attendance one after another, you realize mingi just might be right.

“well, yes, but, there’s just some changes about you lately."

perhaps there is something different about you these days; the boy you've been hanging with opening your eyes to the fun you've been missing out on, and maybe you do want to come out of your shell a little bit.

but it doesn't hit you how much of these parties you've been attending until exam week creeps in and the only way to study for them is to go cold turkey for one, maybe even two weeks until you pass all of them.

what really sets reality for you though, is when yuna throws a passing comment about how much later you've been coming home. how she even sometimes make it back before you. that's when you start to think it might be just a bit bad, needing to tone it down before your friends catches on.

still, the most impressive fact is that you haven't run into wooyoung at his own parties, yet. not that you want to test your luck.

"i won't be able to make it," you tell san on the phone, a low wail that leaves him shortly.

"aww, why not?"

"exams are coming up and i uh... i want to stay inside and study."

the stark contrast of your words even amuses you. that no matter what fun and entertainment you've been exposed to, you will always crawl back into the girl that priotizes getting good grades and is rather nerdy, even if you despise the workload with such strong hatred.

"oh, alright." he giggles quietly. "you're still coming to the school carnival, though, right?"

"yes. i'll be there."

"okay. i'll see you then, and have fun studying."

"pfft. have fun at the party, and tell chris i said hi."

the carnival is a fundraising campaign so nothing fancy or anything like that, obviously. it's a much watered down event, but you figure since your friends won't be available due to their jobs, it doesn't hurt to go with san.

it takes place in the quad of your university, string lightings everywhere; on the trees, around the booths and food stalls, and smaller ones on the cement walkway.

the smells of cotton candy, popcorns, and corndogs greet you upon arrival, turning to san for him to suggest the first thing to do.

his voice is quiet under the loud music and laughters of those around, you have to lean in just to hear him.

"want to play a game?"

"sure." you nod.

a balloon dart game in the back intrigues him--three dollars per person, the sign says. the student running the booth motioning with enthusiam as you two inch closer.

san drops the payment for both you and him into the fundraising box, handing you a set of darts consisting of three.

"you go first or i go?" he quirks an eyebrow in amusement.

"you go."

you stand by the side, watching with the utmost alerted eyes when he misses the first throw, grunting out only shortly and containing it for the next missed one, then also the final where he scores absolutely nothing.

"christ," he curses with a whisper, switching with you who can only chuckle in response.

you also miss the first one, then the second, but surprisingly managing to hit one close to the center for the last turn as it pops; the student ringing a bell and telling you to choose from the prizes.

"you know," san brings up on the walk to the lemonade stand after agreeing on it. "you're pretty good."

you smile a little at the compliment from him.

"yeah? mingi and yunho would always say my aim isn't too bad."

"i can see that."

you both come to a stop at the stand, san rummaging his pocket and speaking at once, "two lemonades, please."

you dig through yours at the same time, pulling out the changes just in time.

"let me pay this time."

san shakes his head.

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let the lady pay on a date?"

you scoff at that.

"and what kind of lady would i be if i let you pay every single time?"

"the perfect one," he says, putting on that handsome smile that's enough to distract you momentarily while he hands over the payment.

"your drink, my lady." he offers with the same smile that you just can't resist.

you huff and puff, pouting as he lets out a giggle and put back your changes.

"let's go find somewhere to sit."

~

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let the lady pay on a date?"

the word replays in your head. date. is this a date? it could be you're thinking too much into it, but you suppose you've never been on a proper date with san.

it is certainly very different; from the activities to the setting, to even the interactions. everything is much more mellow; soft. and you think you prefer it this way. so maybe it is a date. yeah.

even if it's not, it does make you feel so happy your heart could almost jump out of your chest just because san said it is.

"cute." the voice rings in your ear, knocking all the creative thoughts out of your head.

"huh?"

"the plushie. it's cute."

"oh... yeah." you almost stutter, swallowing the knot in your throat and attempting to straighten your posture just to make it clear you definitely weren't thinking of anything else.

he laughs, able to spot the light pink slowly making its appearance again.

"it kind of looks like you."

you retract at the sudden comparison and have to hold the plushie up just to get another good glance at it.

"i absolutely do not look like a white bunny with big flappy ears."

he laughs again at the denial.

"well, you are cute like one."

you only clear your throat and try to fight off a smile that threatens to blossom at the remark that makes something inside your stomach flutter with butterflies.

"do you want to keep it?" you finally derive the subject after enough blushing.

"oh, i couldn't do that. you earned it yourself."

you curl your lips together for a moment of silence before speaking again in such a hushed volume, the commotion could've drowned it out if san wasn't sitting just a bit too close.

"well... your birthday was a while ago, right?"

the question catches him in a daze, more taken aback than anything that you would even remember it.

"yeah."

"i'm sorry i didn't get you anything or even wished you a happy birthday, i was just..." conflicted; thinking too much if it would be appropriate. you have thought of it; remembered it, of course you did.

"--no, you're fine. it's really not a big deal," he brushes it off along with a short laughter but it just sounds indifferent.

"did you celebrate it?"

he shakes his head slowly. was he supposed to? birthdays are just... birthdays. the day has passed so long ago that you came into the world, he will never understand the excitement and joy people have for the day they grow closer to death each year.

"not really? just kind of stayed home and watched a movie. i did get a text from wooyoung at least."

"oh..."

“just something my family never did much, i guess,” you simplify, and jongho nods along with an understanding hum.

“they’re really not all that,” san chips in, both yours and jongho’s heads snapping his direction. “waste of money and time.”

"then, consider it my gift to you." you strech an arm out, hanging the plushie in the air. "it's not anything... extravagant, but it's from the heart."

you break out into a tight-lipped smile because you're aware it's a bit silly, but when he accepts it with open hands, returning a genuine one of his own, you think it might not be.

"i'll take it."

an hour flying by, small talks after another and walks around the area to check out everything, san wants to play one last game before closing off the night.

a ring toss. you don't know how good you're going to be at this one, but either way, san offers to play for you. unsure of what he means by that, you stay back and watch, not really bothered that you're not playing since san is a sight two times more enjoyable.

before he finally manages to land on a bottle, he must've went through at least twenty rings. but he's so proud when he did, fist in the air and all, it's contagious enough for you to clap.

given the game is much harder than the last one you guys played, the prizes are much bulky; in size and value.

"for you," he says, all of a sudden shoving the giant teddy bear in your face, whose head is probably bigger than yours.

"me?" you repeat.

"yes. i said i'll play for you didn't i?"

he's quick to snatch the bunny that you were holding for him, practically rubbing the nose of the bear into your cheek, you have no other choice but to hug the stuffed animal like a baby.

"san, when you give someone something for their birthday, you don't get something back."

he chuckles.

"i know, but i want to. a gift from the heart."

and despite rolling your eyes at the mimicked phrase, sighing under your breath and bringing up again and again that he can keep the bear, you go to bed so happy.

laying on it awake, the event that took place earlier today playing repeatedly in your head and it makes you feel like a giddy schoolgirl all over again.

thinking about the words he used, the display of affections; all the parties he invited you to, and just how often he's been reaching out.

you know that you shouldn't. shouldn't fill your fragile heart up with hope and get optimistic about a boy who ignored you a month ago, but you can't help it.

can't help but fall for the bare minimums on a handsome smile and coy look; the sudden act of kindness that convinces you maybe love isn't dead, yet.

that something has changed in san and something has changed between you and him.

"will you be able to make it?"

every time your phone rings, your stomach sinks itself in, sometimes lounging across the room or tripping yourself on the way just to pick up his call and tell him yes, you can see him tonight.

sadly, just not this night.

neglecting school works has really caught up and now you're left with a stack of assignments that's due tomorrow or the day after that. it doesn't get any better that your writing class has now really transitioned into the 'creative' aspect and you're to come up with a draft of your own work before the end of the week.

"can't. i have too many assignments, sorry."

"ah... okay."

"but uhm, if i finish early i'll let you know?"

"yeah, sure. text me or something. good luck!"

it's still hard to shake off the disappointment, almost like a fear of missing out since you've went to so many of them, you know you could be enjoying yourself with a pretty boy instead of wallowing in misery.

but one, two, probably close to three hours goes by and you've somehow managed to tackle most of them. the ones due tomorrow at least.

you realize you're most likely not dumb, just lazy. and lazy you are, mind jumping straight into already rewarding yourself, what better way than to go to a party and let loose? you'll worry about your next set of assignments tomorrrow.

you text san like you said you would, waiting five minutes, then ten, then fifteen and there's still no reply.

maybe the music's too loud, maybe he ran into a drunk as hell wooyoung and is helping him, or maybe he's busy chatting with chris or whatever other ten plus people he knows there.

you figure you'll just show up. that's not too desperate, right? he's the one who's been inviting you after all, so why would he not want you there?

you make your way through the crowd willingly, this time with no one to guide you. all alone and pushing past the sweats and awful smell because he might be in the kitchen. he has to be.

maneuvering until you arrive at the entrance of the kitchen, always having been the brightest flame in the room, he's hard to miss because your eyes are drawn to him immediately.

as soon as you recognize that familiar head of black hair, time must've stopped and it must've taken your breath with it.

you've experienced a lot of pain in your life if that isn't evident by now. from your parents abandoning you to your mom telling you straight in the face that she never wanted you. then your aunt and uncle who isn't of much difference, to your first boyfriend who cheated.

your life is a mess.

and you understand in actuality, some of it could be considered much worse, but right now--in this moment, it feels like the pain in front of you is the worst one ever, it dulls everything else in comparison.

this pain knocks your breath away and you could almost faint from how sharp the hit is to your fragile heart.

to see san's hands resting on hips that isn't yours, face snuggled and flushed against another skin the same he would do to you. and if you think it can't get any worse, the short couple of seconds that you actually look away, you catch chris in that same old corner with a drink in his hand.

you briefly lock eye contact with him and he could only pretend to sip his cup while looking away to join the other boys again in a conversation.

that's when you realize; when it all sinks on you, that chris isn't a friend. he's the guy that sticks by san's side when he pulls shit like this, making sure no one walks into the room he's fucking a girl in, and informs him of any relevant information because why would you ever think choi san could have a change of heart just because he spewed a few sweet words and made you feel like the most special girl for two hours.

“this is y/n.” san’s voice snaps you out, blinking your lashes to a boy whose hair is bleached in blonde and staring at you with equally amusing eyes, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

“she’s cute,” he comments courtly, parting with a smile and going off to join the two from before at the corner, their introductions audibly out of your range.

to have thought it was a genuine compliment when he probably only looked at you as one of them. and thinking of all the times you couldn't make it and all the parties san attended without you.

the more you connect the dots, the more depressing it gets, and wow... stupid, you are so fucking stupid.

you knew, of course you did; had a feeling and all, not completely oblivious that you weren't the only one. you just didn't think it would hurt so much to actually see it for yourself; really see how easily replaceable you are.

still, you can't stop staring, and you must've stared for too long because she finally notices, eyes fleeting to you and pushing san off slightly before tilting her head and looking at you like she's bored.

as if waiting for you to find something else to entertain yourself with, because who the fuck are you to be an audience to her and the boy before her.

and san must've noticed; confused about the lack of body response and where her gaze is, that he turns his head back to see for himself. but you can't even properly digest the horror in his facial, the only thing you see is that deep, dark, and ugly mark on his neck along with a few lipstick stains in the shade of red close to his jawline and to his lips.

you can't stay here any longer and embarrass yourself like this, feeling a lone tear well at one of your eyes before moving back to the crowd.

"excuse me," you mutter, trying to push your way out of there, the last thing you hear from the kitchen is the marching of heavy footsteps and san's voice as he tries to catch up.

"wait, y/n!"

next // series m.list

taglist: @sorryimananti-romantic @revehosh @cookiechristie @avantalem @atiny68 @sannwa @shibera @mochibabycakes @justineasian @eastleighsblog @baguette-atiny @crimson-mia @yeosxxx @sleepychimm @atz-diary @diorwoo @naiify @becauseiloveyunho @damagelove @softie00 @s-nsanshine @atinytinaa @moonseonghwa @lemontreefantasy @wooyoung4eva @yeosangsbiceps @likexaxdaydream @knucklesdeepmingi @barbielibra @tmtxtf @brown88 @harusoraa @frankenstein852 @yujispinkhair @mermaid17venus @nolxverlikeme @writersun @kkayfan @wooyoungjpg @galaxypox @byunniebaekhyunnie

[her-acts-of-cruelty]

HIII i love eddie so much i have this scenario bouncing around my poor little brain about like him sitting out in the rain because he doesn’t want to be in the house and the reader who’s the neighbor that moved in after eddie went to jail and they like invite him inside and give him some soup and tea :-) give that man a nice cozy time. he deserves it

HI SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HAVE BEEN A BUSY LITTLE BOY!

I really liked the idea, I've done a little spin on how I thought Eddie deserved at least one friend who tried to help him. Am I exploring the concept of him being gay and leaving his wife for me? That's for me to know. I'm hoping this reaches the right audience, because I love men and men should love me too.

Also if you have more ideas you should send them. For chatacter ai bots or fics.

Synopsis: bringing an old friend in for a cuppa after seeing him get caught in the rain. Pre established friendship and !???

Cw: some language, mention of beer, but overall its tame

-------------------

You'd never really had a significant reputation in Chadder. You drifted outside the community, maybe it was your age, but you never really felt close with the village.

Aside from Eddie that is.

You used to work next door to his garage, in the little shop. Passing each other each frosty morning turned into combining your routes. Your radiating presence most certainly a stark contrast from the long and dull day he had alone. So walking to work with each other soon turned into going for a pint together to celebrate the day.

You'd exchange stories, little artifacts from each others day. Sometimes there'd be gossip, things You'd over heard in the shop with the things his loose lipped customers would mumble as he worked on their cars. Other times he'd tell you about his kids, what they'd been up to at school and how proud he was of his growing girls. You two made it work.

That was, until he disappeared.

His incarceration was much to your surprise and it seemed you were the only one who had your doubts. You chalked that up to why the residents went a little quiet when you walked by.

Things became a lot slower without Eddie. Your routine had suddenly been lost, your source of the news gone- it seemed as though you were well and truly alone.

By whatever sick twist of luck though, five years had passed and Eddie was out.

Your stomach churned when you first lay eyes on him, your body unsure of how to react- so you did the one logical thing. You stayed away from him.

You avoided him like the plague, worried about all the stewing feelings that had blossomed in his absence. It ate up at you quickly though, the way his face dropped when you turned around and marched off made you wish you could choke up your insides and never dream again.

It went on like this for a couple weeks. Now that spring was approaching, the rainy season was in full swing. You hid in your house most of the time anyway, but hearing the sudden large rain drops on the windows made your expression drop. You bolted outside to grab your drying washing off the line that'd been put up in your front garden. As you cursed yourself, something out the corner of your eye stuck out.

Eddie.

Alone.

You bit your lip and brought your things inside, tossing them carelessly into a basket by the washing machine. The rain wasn't slowing down, its aggressive downpour had you praying Eddie had left that spot and rushed home.

When you checked out the window though, he was still slumped against one of the black metal fences- trying his best to smoke a drooping cigarette.

Your stomach did another backflip as you decided what to do. You couldn't just leave him there to freeze, could you? You got a few more curses out of your system before kicking off some shoes and marching into the rain.

"Eddie?"  You called out as you approached him, the look of panic across his face told you all you needed to hear.

"(Name)- I didn't know you uh- it's raining why are you out 'ere?" He scrambled up off the floor, feeling sorry for himself as he came to his full height.

"Could ask you the same, what's going on? Shouldn't you be with the wife?"

He winced, "ah- its just a bit right now"

You nodded, watching him slowly get more soaked, "you should come back for a cuppa yknow, you're gonna catch your death out here like that"

He wanted to fight you, wanted you to know he belonged to be out here, fighting for warmth like the animal he is.

But also he wanted a warm cup of tea.

So he picked himself off the ground and looked down at you, expecting you to lead. You sigh once more and gesture for him to follow you back inside your house.

He kicks his boots off at the door and let  his eyes wander the walls. It's almost like he'd left his troubles outside, the way a childlike wonder filled him. You hadn't changed much since he'd left, and he liked that.

You'd already made it to the kitchen, working on tea, "Eddie? I might have a few things of yours in my wardrobe soon if you want something a hit warmer to slip into?" His gaze left the walls and met yours, nodding softly, "Yeah that'd uhm-" "Where they usually are, help yourself," You gestured for him for him head upstairs.

A light must have turned on, maybe this was the first sense of familiarity he'd been allowed to chase

. Gentle footsteps made their way down the floor and the hulking man now standing before you in some grey joggers and tee.

"Thank you- you don't know how much it-" "I heard about what happened, I didn't know how to approach it," you blurted, your body clearly wanting to rid the words from  it's festering wound.

He furrowed his brows a little, "is that why you've you've avoiding me like everyone else?"

"It's not like everyone else, you know it never has been-"

"Then what is it?"

"Eddie your tea is going cold-" you tried to shrug him off.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for, you saw it in the way his expression slowly sunk, "do you think I'm a monster too?"

"No! It's just- fucking hell Eddie, I just haven't been well without you." He slowly sat down onnthe couch at that.

Silence choked the room as you took the note to sit beside him. He pulled you close, fingertips caressing your side as he grabbed you. His head rested on yours and for a moment you felt... at peace? You're not sure what it was, but you sighed and got closer.

"You know I didn't uhm-" he tried to break the silence, an attempt to reassure you.

"Yeah I do, tried to get you proven innocent."

He didn't seem to surprised by the notion, "thank you."

[being-addie]

How to have a productive study session.

When your finals are in 2 days, and you've definitely NOT studied enough, it's normal to panic. You sit down to study and get a solid 30 minutes of calculus done, then jump down the rabbit hole called YouTube. Soon enough the dread creeps up because you're still not done.

As a girl who doesn't attend school regularly due to coaching classes I go to (I'll expand on this later), it's pretty easy to forget to study for exams and projects.

But there's nothing better than getting 98% on that exam. So I'm writing this as someone who's been scoring straight As all my life. Here's how to have a productive study session:

Note: This isn't a guide for romanticising studies. This is meant for a serious, productive session. I will, however, be making a guide to help romanticise studies because I've found it helps a lot.

Before you study

Identify what your distractions are: Let's be real, almost everyone has their phone on hand during study sessions. Put your phone on Do Not Disturb and keep it in a corner of the room. Add a few selected contacts that can reach you while your phone is on DND. If you can turn off notifications entirely, do that.

Taking measures: After I keep my phone away, my brain turns to the next thing it could be distracted by. My laptop and tablet. Put those devices in focus mode, so you won't be tempted to use any other apps and use a Chrome extension like StayFocused or WasteNoTime to not get sidetracked.

Resources: Make sure you have all your material on hand. Video lectures, notes, guides, your formula sheet, and flash cards. Keep everything on hand so you won't have to rifle through papers to find that reference sheet.

Your space: Clean your desk. Keep only the things you need. Your pens and pencils, chargers, annotation material and water bottle. If you want, light a candle. Do not clutter it unnecessarily. Your desk is a sacred space. Treat it that way.

When you sit down

The checklist: Do you have all the material required? Electronics, chargers, a snack and a drink? Water bottle? Extra pen? If you have everything beforehand, you'll be less likely to lose focus because you forgot to charge your headphones.

Make a plan: I cannot stress this enough. You'll sit down and just start studying, and next thing you know, it's 7pm and all you've done is watch videos on celebrity drama. Make a goddamn plan. Write down a realistic number of chapters you can complete and then STICK TO IT.

Begin: Reread and review your notes. I usually like to rewrite my notes in neater handwriting, because my handwriting in class is appalling. To really solidify information, I recommend the 'Blurting' method. Read a paragraph, then close the book and say what you understood out loud. Reread to see what you missed and take note. I did this for my history exam and got a 100%. This shit works for a reason. Use the Pomodoro technique to maximise productivity. Set an alarm for 25 minutes, and do intensive study. Once that's done, take a 5-minute break. Return and repeat.

IMPORTANT

Take a break: Ah yes, if you don't get up every 40 minutes or so for a break, eventually whatever you're studying will start looking like garbage and you'll be back to square one. GET UP. Walk around. STRETCH. You've been looking like a croissant🥐. Eat something. Rehydrate.

Forgive yourself: If you couldn't hit your target, don't be harsh on yourself. Find out the cause: Were you distracted? Did something unavoidable come up? Then try to make sure it doesn't happen again.

Study buddy: This is a double-edged sword. Studying with a friend can either increase your productivity by a massive amount, or it can help you get absolutely zero work done. When revising with a friend, make sure you study with someone who has the same goals as you and won't get distracted by things.

It's 2023, procrastination is cancelled. Go drink some water, eat a granola bar and finish that assignment you've been delaying. Be the person who finishes all their work, on time and perfectly. You can do it.

<3

[hannieluvsyou]

I don't know you, but I like you.

Yoon Jeonghan x Reader

description: Wherein two classmates that don't know each others existence, are forced to work on a project that costs half of their grade. Maybe it will cost their heart as well.

genre: fluff

warnings: none other than playful arguing and banter, oh and some swearing.

note: I apologize in advance for any typos or grammatical errors. (This is also my first post frfr)

'Can this class get any more boring?' I thought as I place my head between my palms. To be honest, I don't even know what the professor is saying like, 90% of the time. Man, I'm a horrible student.

"To end this lesson, I will now discuss your project. It will be done by pair, I already assigned everyone to their partners by the way." He tells the class while everyone groans to the mention of the professor having already assigned everyone.

I tuned out the names of the others' partners. Not until he mentioned my name.

"Ms. (name) (last name), you will work with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan."

'Bitch who?' I thought while looking at every corner of the classroom until I locked eyes with a cute boy with a small ponytail.

He mouthed my name in question while I nodded and mouthed his. Well, atleast he's cute.

Jeonghan smiled and turned his head to the teacher who was giving the rubrics for the project.

And finally the bell rang as our professor dismissed us. It quickly became a noisy environment. Laughter and gossip filled the room.

I start to pack my stuff, making them fit in my bag that is obviously too small for all my stuff. And of course, in the middle of stuffing my things in my bag... The zipper fucking broke.

I stare at the now broken zipper, then back to my bag. How the hell am I supposed to fix this thing.

As I start to rethink my life decisions, I feel a presence behind me.

Before I can turn around, the person took the removed zipper from my hands and attached them to my backpack with ease.

"I think you need a new backpack." The person said while chuckling a bit.

I look up at his face to see my partner. Yoon Jeonghan.

I raise my eyebrow at him. "I think I do." I say while looking back at my fixed zipper.

Jeonghan smiles and reaches his hand out. "I'm Yoon Jeonghan, nice to meet you."

I take his hand and shook it. "I'm (name) (last name), nice to meet you as well."

'Damn his hands are soft.' I say internally.

"So," he started. "Since I fixed your little problem." He paused and smirked at me. "I think you owe me one."

I look at him unmoved, and absentmindedly nodded my head while continuing to try and fit the remaining stuff I have in my bag.

"I didn't even know you existed in the first place." I say.

"I can say the same thing to you!" He said now sitting down on an unoccupied chair. I looked at him then back at my bag.

"Thanks by the way- for fixing my zipper."

"It's fine. But you still owe me one." He sticks out his tongue at me in a childish manner. He then stands up and waits for me to sling my bag on my shoulders.

"Are we getting lunch together or...?" I say while he starts following me to the door. Jeonghan just nods and slings his arm on my shoulder.

This guy is getting real comfy already. I've only ever known him since like, 10 minutes ago. It's a good sign. I think.

We make our way to the schools canteen bumping into his friends on the way.

"Whoa Jeonghan's got a girlfriend!" I hear one of them exclaim. I think his name is.. Seung? Seungchul? Seungcheol? Yeah whatever his name is but GIRLFRIEND?!

"I thought he was allergic to girls..."

"Introduce us to her!"

"She's pretty."

Me and Jeonghan stop as he greets his friends. I stand awkwardly waiting for them to finish, not until he drags me to his side and presents me to his friends.

"Meet (name)! My project buddy." He grins and again wraps his arm around my shoulders.

I wave and smile at them. "I'm (name) (last name)." I say shortly and nudge Jeonghan who is still grinning like a child getting candy. Damn, how many times am I going to introduce myself today.

"Sooooo... You're not dating?" Joshua says while crossing his arms. I only know him since I find him handsome, hehe.

"No! We're not." I say quickly shrugging Jeonghan's arm away as he pouts. Before the others question us any further, I grabbed his hand and quickly excuse the both of us but not before hearing a bunch of whistles coming from the group of boys not noticing the shy smile Jeonghan serves while looking at me.

As we finally approached the canteen, I let his arm go and sit on one of the benches as he mirrors my action.

"We should hang out more, I like you." He suddenly says.

'I kinda like you too.' I wanted to say but kept it to myself.

I look at him "We haven't even known each other for an hour."

'Why HAVE we known each other for less than an hour?' Jeonghan thought.

"Hmph, true. But I don't really care. I don't know you, but I like you." He says then grabs my unlocked phone from the table then quickly types in his number nicknaming it 'jeonghannie 😇' in the process.

"That emoji should be a devil one." I scoffed and saved his number.

"Hey! Excuse me?! You should buy a new bag first!" He says while pouting angrily then shoving my shoulder playfully.

We continue laughing and hitting each other the whole lunch break.

'I like this girl, seriously.'

'Yep. I totally like this guy.'

[juuuulez]

Okay but since that anon mentioned your Capulet series, I've re-read it and as I am also re-watching The Last Of Us, I can't help but Invision pre-apocalypse Negan and Reader as Joel and Sarah, esp when the outbreak happens at school, it gave me TLOU ep 1 vibes tbh! <333

ALSOOOO I can just SEE a younger reader pulling a "drugs. I sell hardcore drugs." at Negan if she ever gave him a gift for his birthday or something post-apocalypse!

UM UM UM WHY IS THIS IN MY DRAFTS!!!! WHY DIDNT I POST THIS!!!!!!!!!!! okay lock in for my walking dead infodump

oh wow this is so cute… my TLOU and walking dead obsession go hand in hand so knowing that it gave those vibes is the biggest compliment ever

but can i admit something naughty…….

there’s actually an alternate ending to capulet. like, a “canon” version that goes along with the rest of twd……and i never wrote it because, well, it’s a carl fic, and we’ve already mourned his death once.

i’ll put some stuff about it under the cut, because who knows, maybe one day i’ll write it:

basically, if carl had of died like canon, reader would’ve went a little bit crazy. not terribly so, just paranoid, and probably bitching out even more on the saviours.

when negan’s captured it’s like the nail in the coffin, and she’d basically beg anyone to stick around and help her break him out, but nobody wants anything to do with it: the sanctuary is completely abandoned. she spends days, maybe even weeks, incessantly plotting some stupid plan, but never gets around to committing because ultimately she knows it’s slim.

this is simultaneous to rick going a little off the rails, y’know, cus his son is dead. so, with rick paying less attention, and reader still a giant red question mark on the community? maggie takes things into her own hands.

because she’s not risking negan escaping. as far as she’s concerned, you’re a loose thread, someone who could fuck this whole thing up. but being pregnant she can’t exactly do much about it, so instead, she handballs the task to michonne.

the instructions are very clear: kill her. doesn’t matter how, or where, or with what, just make sure it happens.

michonne spends maybe a day hunting you down. the second you even spot her at the sanctuary, you run, letting her chase you anywhere you can get on two legs.

that doesn’t last forever, for michonne is smarter, and probably quicker. she corners you in this dusty area at the edge of town, finally getting you down to your knees. up until this point, you’ve been a rabid animal, fighting and yelling and spitting.

but she just needs you to listen to her.

because she’s not gonna kill you.

instead? you will go far, far away. anywhere but here. and if you ever showed your face again, if anyone even caught the tiniest whiff of you, you’d be killed on sight.

that’s not a bad deal, though. compared to execution, at least.

michonne takes your bat, deciding that would have to be ample proof that she got the job done. you also hand over that little notebook you always carry, the one with drawings of carl in it.

(years later judith would find this notebook and go down to interrogate negan: before eventually suggesting that he keeps it, for he has nothing that reminds him of you. he declines and says that you’d probably wanted judith to have it).

everyone in alexandria thinks you’re dead. michonne tells maggie, who subsequently spreads the news, taking some satisfaction in telling negan, who’s downright miserable.

because it’s depressing. you had been free, and now you were dead. it was almost animalistic, like you’d been put down, like your life wasn’t human enough.

it was unfair because his mistakes got him imprisoned, whilst yours got you killed. that’s fucked up. but, it’s meant to be fucked up, because it’s meant to be a lesson.

years pass like this.

it only serves as another point of tension between negan and maggie, but that isn’t uncommon at this point.

“you killed my husband.”

“you killed my daughter.”

to which maggie would always say, “she’s not your daughter.”

not entirely untrue, but it still stung.

and now it’s 2028: the unlikely pair has ventured into new york in order to rescue hershel, and have been tipped that there’s somebody who knows the area like the back of their hand.

someone who works for the croat, but never speaks with him directly, and can therefore fly under his radar. a scavenger who travels across cities searching for any supplies that could be of use, all in exchange for safety and protection within the bounds of new york.

aaannnndddd i think you can figure out the rest

[lolitastories]

GHOST

Javier Pena x Reader

Chapter 3

“Hey Lola” I smile and wave at Miguel as I make my way to the bar. “Same as usual?” He was already preparing my drink before I could answer.

“Thank you” I let out a sigh sitting on the corner of the bar. I look over and see Diego coming out. “Hey”

“What's going on?” He asks with a smile coming up and starting to dry the glasses. “Haven’t seen you in awhile” Miguel comes up and lays the drinks infront of me.

“Yeah, I've been busy with work. Its hits always at the same time” Miguel didn’t know to make my drink virgin but thankfully I needed this drink.

“Taxes season right” Miguel laughs before leaving to attend the other guests.

“Anything new?” I shake my head.

“Since he showed up on my doorstep I got a sweet invitation for dinner” I downed the drink. I’ve never been an alcoholic person, never got the point. They said it relaxed you and some other shit and maybe it does but never wanted to test out the waters. “More people have been around so I actually had to start working” I get a laughfrom him. Atleast someone is getting the humor out of all of this.

“That was quick?” Miguel comes over and takes the drink and goes to prepare another one. Diego just shakes his head.

“His movement has been still for a while and aslong as it stays there it means he doesn’t feel pressured. '' I smile as Miguel set another drink infront of me.

“I was wondering something” I lifted my eyebrow waiting for his next words. “Would you like to go out sometime? Maybe here for some drinks?” Stuck in the corner with that one. Miguel was a nice guy, hell with it.

“I would like that but I will let you know when. I’ve been swamped at work so I don’t know when I will get a chance to relax again”

“You know where to find me” He smiles walking away again.

“Look at you,” Diego says with a smile. “This will be your first date, since when?” I roll my eyes, taking my attention back to my drink. “Since never?”

“Shut up”

“Honey-”

“Don’t call me that” He knows when I am serious but he also knows just because it upsets me doesn’t mean I won’t get over it.

“Sorry” he lifts his hands up in defense. “I have knowed you since middle school and after that guy, you haven’t given nother guy the time of day” He moved closer making sure nobody heard. “And I know you are only doing this as a cover but it's time you put yourself out there again”

“I will” I shrug finishing me drink

“I can’t remember how many times you got the chance and never took it.” As he places his hands over mine I feel a smooth surface. I turn it to act like I am holding his hand and slip to grab the piece of paper in it.

“I will” I smile getting up.

“No late drinks tonight?” It was 9 and I usually stayed sometime after midnight.

“Not tonight Miguel. Got so much work to finish and I have until the end of this month” I thank them and leave. I carefully move into a spot where it's not suspicious to people who may be watching. I checked the note and intently grew tired. Close the blinds. Hell. As I walk home, well the motel. I drag my feet. This is the fifth night Pena has done this in the span of 3 weeks. He would sneak into the motel and have me close the blinds. Later after we spoke he would sneak out when the men across the street would turn off the lights. This usually happened when my lights were off for a while so it would send Pena out around 1 to 4 in the morning. I got the door acting all normal. I would set my things down and walk into the bathroom doing my usual routine. “I thought I told you to stop coming” I groaned, walking out the bathroom and placing my clothes on a table in the bathroom.

“And I told you I wasn’t until you decided to let us in” I rolled my eyes walking back out frustrated. This is how the night went. I got home and he would be sitting on the toilet. I would take a shower as we start our discussion. After that I would come out and close the blinds. Go into the bathroom and change as Pena moves to the kitchen table. Finally I would ignore him and give him bits and pieces as I try to catch some sleep until morning. He would be out by the time I opened my eyes. Today I was over it. I ignored him as I took a shower and even as I got ready for bed. “You’ve been working overtime and spending time on road trips, what does he have you doing?” I shrug, removing the pillows from the bed and getting into the covers. “Y/N!”

“Shut up” I groaned. It was close to eleven now and all I wanted to do was sleep. I wasn’t tired enough not to stay up. I was tired of the life that I have to live right now. I can’t leave and it's looking like it doesn’t have an end. “Pena” I sigh sitting up. “I don’t have time for your threats or whatever speech you prepared” I say a little too loud.

“You would have to hear it if you would just tell me what's going on” He gets up from the table and walks over. I get up and turn off the lights. I place on my shoes and walk towards the back. “Y/N” he warned. He knew to stay hidden behind the wall as I walked out into the sort of porch outside. I wrap my arms around me as the cool air hits my face.

“I stand out here sometimes. I like to look at the sky and picture myself somewhere else. Usually surrounded by water. Floating and letting the motion of the waves rock me to sleep” I turn my head catching Pena's eyes. “Ironic because I am scared of the open water. I am going to say this as nicely as possible” I turn my body to walk towards the door outline without stepping in, I needed to still feel at peace to not let the frustration out on him. “No matter how much this involves you, you can’t be putting me,you,Murphy, and any other agent on the line. I am not a little girl, all the information I give goes directly to you and the ambassador” Thats when Pena stands up and stops right infront of me. “I can’t have you coming here and risking this operation because of your stubbornness and pride” I say this a little harsher as his presance radiates. It's like I could feel him so much closer than he was. Like he has engulfed me in a tight hug and somehow, that made me feel at peace. “It's not the right thing to do and if I am being honest I feel like everything is slipping off my hands” I hate not having control. Something I should have since it's my damn operation but with him involved it like I can’t get a hold of it.

“Y/N '' I felt his fingers grab my own until he enterwines our hands. “You are stressed”

“No! Pena” I finally let out. “I am scared” That was the last straw. I don’t know what caused it. I don’t know if he hugged me first and tears started falling or he heard my whimper as I cried and wrapped his arms around me. Silence surrounded us both not knowing what to say. The truth came out and I felt vulnerable. I hadn’t felt this way. Losing control wasn’t part of my traits. I was close to losing control and it was making me think of unnecessary feelings I learned to put in the past. “I know what I got myself into. I learned to not take it personally. A great deal of my life I have always been good at keeping my emotions in. To ignore. But-” I look up not knowing what to end with. There is nothing to think about. There is no other choice here, I must finish my operation. I must get back in control. “I'm sorry” I whisper, moving my hands to cup his cheeks. I pulled him closer pinning us against eachother. The kiss was breathtaking. I felt down and sad and having him kiss me felt like a solution. He didn’t seem to mind. It felt like he was desprate to take all the sadness I had in this one kiss. I push him inside, not letting us reach for air just yet. We stumble upon the kitchen table. “Careful” I chuckle, wrapping my arms around him as he slips around my waist. It was a simple long kiss but it was turning into something I craved for.

“Querida” He groaned as we molded together. His back knees hit the bit and it makes him sit down. I dare not let go yet and crawl on to him pushing him even closer for the kiss to never end. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to go back to reality. I only wanted to listen to his moans and groans as I start to slowly grind agains this jean pants. I only wanted to feel his heart beat beating with mine. His smooth finger continued to travel along my back and unclapsing my bra.

“Javi?” It sounded like a question to me but I was begging and he understood that. He took out my shirt and started to leave butterfly kisses starting from my mouth to my collarbone.

“Sounds so sweet when you say my name” I smile. My head falls on his shoulder moving up to kiss beside his ear.

“Javi!” I groaned louder, knowing he was ignoring my plea. Then there was. Not what I needed but it was a start. One head on my breath and his talented mouth on the other. Kissing first and the next licking and sucking like no tomorrow. I throw my head back pushing my chest closer. “Javi!” I screamed. “Fuck” I grab on his head pulling and tugging his hair. I forcefully continue to grind on him wanting nothing more than to get rid of the barrier of clothing between us.

“Mi amor” It was the heat of the moment I told myself. But it made a shiver run down my spin to my core. “Stop, you’re killing me” He groans and I start leaving kisses and hickies on his neck.

“Don’t you want to hear me scream your name some more?” I move up again, nipping on his ear and slowing down my hips but with more force.

“Yes” he whines. His hands grab on to my hips following my rhythm.

“But, we can stop if-” I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence when he wraps one arm around my waist and the other helps him not fall on top of me as he turns us around and lays me down on the bed. “No?” I try to hold my laugh but it's cut short. His eyes hold seriousness. Still hovering over me he moves on hand to cradle my cheek.

“No” His deep voice sends another shiver down my spine. His thumb slides over my lips and I give him entrance. A simple suck and his eyes shut. “Mi vida” He groans. With his affirmations alone and sweet nicknames I could orgasm faster than if I was doing it myself.

“Wait!” I pushed into the bed, not in the way I wanted. I hold my finger up signaling him to keep quiet. I run to close the back door and the curtains. A quick chatter from outside and shadows that the moon allows to cast make me jump. I see Pena stand up and walk quickly towards me.

“Do you think-” I shushed him quickly. I grab on to his hand and push him into the bathroom. I open the cabinet and take everything from underneath.

“I need you to keep quiet and don’t come out until I let you out” I open a secret compartment. It was a small space fit for one person. “Pena” I turned around and stood up. “If you hear no commotion you let yourself out” I move out the way to let him. That's when a knock is heard on the other side.

“No way in hell-” I grab a fist full of his shirt.

“Don’t give me that shit right now!” Another knock. “You will do what I say. This is my operation and I won’t have you mess it up. I will send for you when I decide. And only then will you show up, understand? I can take care of myself” I ran back to the room and put my shirt on again. “Get in Pena” I hurry him inside and close it. I get the time to put everything in place before rushing back to open the door. “Hello?” I act like they just disturbed my sleep.

“We are sorry to come at this time Miss, but the boss would like a word with you.” Fuck.

“Okay. Give me a minute to change and I will be right out. They nod and I close the door. I can’t tell Peña because he would be right after us. I changed quickly going back to the bathroom and putting my head inside the cabinet knowing he would be able to hear me. “Please don’t do anything stupid and listen for once. I will keep you in the loop but I need you to promise me you will follow what I said before”

“Okay, but Y/N-“ I cut him off quickly

“I don’t have time Pena, I have to go over things with them so it will be awhile. In an hour you walk out the back door” I didn’t wait for his response as I walked to the door and into the car with these men.

Chapter 4

[lonesome-witching]

Late Nights at Hawkins High

This prompt was sent to me by @1-800-eat-shit so thank you very much. In this one Nancy and Robin have snuck into school after hours and end up hiding together. I hope you like it.

If you do and you think damn, I want to send in my own prompt, I've got great news for you. You can do that right here. Or if you just want to read more prompts like this you can find my previous works here.

She had dimmed the lights. Only the desk lamp in front of her illuminated her work. She wasn’t supposed to be here and she knew that but she wasn’t sure where else to go when the nights stretched on and she couldn’t sleep. It was easier to lose her mind in lay-outs and articles than to the nightmares that waited behind her eyelids. 

Nancy yawned, her mouth open wide and her eyes nearly shut. She held her watch into the small beam of light to check the time. 5:30 a.m. Time to head home before the morning rush of teachers and students started crawling the hallways. She’d have plenty of time to head home, get changed and head back. She turned off the light and grabbed her bag. 

It wasn’t the first time Nancy had snuck back into school after hours to spend her nights working on the school newspaper. It wasn’t the second time either. Or the third. Or fourth. In fact Nancy had lost count of how many times she had done this same little routine. 

Which is why she knew the concierge started his route at 5:45 a.m. Just enough time to get in her car and drive off. 

She closed the door to the newspaper room behind her. If she just turned left she’d be at the exit in no time. Only at her left side there was a light burning bright in the concierge’s office. And then the door opened. 

She considered hiding in the newspaper room but the open space would leave her vulnerable and she’d be discovered in no time. So, instead, she ran to the right and around the corner. There were some chemistry classrooms that unfortunately had locked doors. She slowed down her pace as she continued trying doors. Turning right and left and left again. The door to the girls locker room stood ajar and Nancy snuck inside before she could wonder why it had been left open. She closed the door behind her and hid behind a row of lockers. 

Behind her she heard the shallow breathing of a person who was vaguely out of breath. Nancy closed her eyes, regretting the fact that she for once had left her gun at home. After one deep breath she turned around coming face to face with… 

“Robin? What the fuck are you doing here?” Nancy pressed her hand against her racing heart. 

“I- I could ask you the same thing.” Robin mumbled as if she was afraid of being heard. It was different from how Nancy knew her. 

“I was working on the school paper.” 

“Oh.” Robin’s mouth stayed open for another moment. “I was dared to break into school by Steve.” 

“What?” The idea of two of her friends acting foolish and- and normal was almost too hard to comprehend. 

“Well, we’re kind of playing… something. It’s not really truth or dare because there isn’t a truth option. It would be a bit redundant, we already tell each other everything. Anyway it was this or calling my crush and I didn’t want to do that.” Robin didn’t look at Nancy’s face, she didn’t look anywhere close to her face. 

“You have a crush?” Nancy cocked her eyebrows. 

“Kind of.”

“Who?” 

“What?” Robin finally looked up. Their eyes met for a second before she looked away again, to a point somewhere over Nancy’s shoulder. 

“Who is your crush?” 

“Oh uhm… My crush.” 

Nancy waited in silence. Her eyes scanning Robin’s face for any sign that she had crossed a line, that they were not that type of friends. She didn’t find anything. Not even any real sign of discomfort. All she found was a thoughtful expression as she imagined Robin went through various different answers before she opened her mouth. 

Right as Robin began her reply the door to the locker room opened. Nancy grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her closer into the corner of the room. Her back was pressed into Chrissy Cunningham’s locker. A painful reminder of the events of mere weeks ago. Robin’s left hand leaned into the metal next to Nancy’s head. 

They were close. They were very close. Nancy had never seen Robin this close up. Had never been allowed to. Even when they were getting ready for Pennhurst she’d stay one step away. Now there was nothing more than a breath between them. A breath she felt hitting her slightly puckered lips as her eyes dropped down Robin’s face. 

Maybe it was the near death experience they had survived a few weeks ago or the man that stood sighing in the doorway ready to catch them causing some adrenaline effect, but Nancy wanted to kiss Robin. The thought crashed into her full force. 

She should pull away. She should remove herself from this dangerous situation. But she was trapped between the locker and Robin’s body. 

“I think we should try to get out of here.” Robin whispered. 

Nancy watched as Robin’s lips moved. She felt like she was trapped in a desert and finally found her oasis. Her mind went blank as she lurched forward and connected her lips with Robin’s. She finally got that first sip of water. 

Her arms snuck around Robin’s neck pulling her closer, needing more. Robin reacted shocked and confused before she finally responded by moving her lips, slipping them in between Nancy’s. 

“Oh God.” Robin breathed into her mouth. “Definitely made the right choice.” 

“Huh?” 

“Sneaking into school was the right choice.”

The conversation from earlier popped back in her mind. “So, did I get you to forget your crush?” 

Robin shook her head. “Not even close.” 

“Oh.” Nancy pulled away as far as she could. 

“That came out wrong. I just- You’re- You are my crush.” 

“Hey! What are you girls doing here?” The concierge poked his head around the corner, scowling at them. 

Nancy grabbed Robin’s hand and started running, into the gym and out of the backdoor. There was a soft smile on her face as her car came into view. 

“Come home with me?” Nancy asked, leaning against the side of her car. 

“I- Steve should be around here somewhere.” 

“Can’t you tell him you’re coming home with me?” 

Robin nodded her head. “I definitely can.”