#so i had to pick one that im actually familiar with and is also fucked up

[gemwolfz]

macbeth went hard as hell ngl

area man goes from "worst murderer in the world ever" to "died of hubris xoxo" in one play

[meanbossart]

im so curious-- how well does DUDrow get on with the other companions? I've only seen your art and going off that I feel like: he gets along with Shadowheart, Gale I think he borderline cant stand, and Wyll/Lae'zel/Karlach I have no idea how he'd feel about them but id love to know!

So, funfact, because I was not familiar with these kinds of games at the time I played BG3, I practically stuck with the same exact party the entire playthrough. I distinctly remember swapping Wyll in for Astarion once at the end of act 2 because I thought he NEEDED to be there to find Mizora, and I replaced Gale with Karlach when I went to kill Gortash. Otherwise... It was pretty much always just DU drow, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale. I did this because they were the characters I liked most, so I wanted to see all they had to offer.

Anyways, I mention this because it reflects how DU drow related to everyone - which is to say that he didn't. He picked his favorites (two because he liked them, one because he has fireball) and didn't get particularly close to anyone else.

BUT, there were definitely notable dynamics!

Lae'zel: She's dead. He killed her night 3 or something. Before that he thought her annoyingly demanding and over the top. I don't think DU drow even remembers her by the end of the game.

Gale: Just to add to your original observation, Gale and DU drow have a little bit of history. Gale tries, for about half of the campaign, to pursue him romantically. DU drow keeps turning him down and is either misinterpreted or ignored, and by the time Gale does give up on him their relationship has completely soured to the point where they are constantly shooting daggers at each other. (this reflects a romance bug I got in my first run, except I didn't realize it was a bug. Either way I think its more interesting storytelling than the intended experience.)

Wyll: DU drow was profoundly frustrated by Wyll every step of the way. He found him to be incredibly naive and a bit delusional in his pursuit for heroism, and could never relate to Wyll's perspective or choices - the few he made for himself, at least. They definitely had the least in common and DU drow avoided interacting with him most of the time.

Halsin: He didn't care for Halsin much. He was vaguely helpful but by the time they got to the shadow-cursed lands DU drow had the impression he'd only been dragged here to help him clear his conscience, which he didn't appreciate. Also, he couldn't bear to have someone in camp be taller than himself. Halsin was left behind in Act 2.

Jaheira: DU drow fucking loves Jaheira. They bickered and borderline insulted each other and had a great time doing it. He can respect anyone who will call him a monster, threaten to murder him in his sleep, and make light fun at him the next day. It helps that she's hot, also.

Minsc: Weird hamster man. Ocasionally rendered him speechless. Puzzling human being.

Karlach: He didn't get Karlach, but he was often amused by her and curious enough to want to hear what she had to say. There was a similar issue here as Wyll's where he just couldn't relate to her enough to have much to discuss, but Karlach at least had an edge to her that made her far better company. They got along pretty well when the topic wasn't serious, but when it came to the problems she actually faced their perspectives shifted significantly. DU drow thought everything could be fixed, that accepting her own demise was a cowardly thing to do - and as they approached the end, and she asked him if he would stay with her when she died, he thought she was weak. I don't know if he ever discusses it with anyone, but he feels guilty about her death to this day and sees it as personal failure.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover

[jzprncess]

the missing melody ♪

pairing : franco colapinto x singer!reader

faceclaim : various people!

summary : after several months of silence, Y/N L/N, a renowned singer, unexpectedly surfaces at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, leaving everyone wondering about her disappearance. Her arrival catches the eye of a talented rookie driver, intrigued by her in many ways then one.

part 1 out of unknown parts

warnings : some singers do not exist in this au since i might take their songs! read my note before reading!

note : first smau! Let me know in the comments for feedback! I actually had inspiration for this one. i don't think this is too long or too short, so expect the next parts to be the same length! this will be at the cota race in austin in october but with the the baku results because thats when they both got points (the william drivers). i

   ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

F1GOSSIP just posted

liked by username1, username2 and 179,293 others 

F1GOSSIP after several months of speculation and silence, y/n l/n resurfaced this weekend at a grand prix, and fans are buzzing! our sources say that y/n has always been a f1 fan but has never actually been to a grand prix! why now? did she get bored doing what she was doing? why was she gone for so long?

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username1 WHATTT?!?

username2 wait? MY QUEEN?!?

username3 where? i’m here also!! where is she?!?

username4 she’s still so pretty 😍

username5 NO WAY YOURE LYING?!!?

username6 no one understands how bad i missed y/n!!! 

username7 i almost had a heart attack oh my FUCK

username8 i’m totally not freaking out rn 😊😊

username9 i used to pray for times like this 🙏🙏🙏🙏

username10 DOES THIS MEAN MORE MUSIC? PLEASE ITS BEEN MONTHS IM STARVING!

yourusername added to their story

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username1 we missed you y/n!

f1 hi y/n! we’d love to have you come down and join us in the paddock! let us know if you’re interested!

y/n’s pov

I stare at the text message from the F1 account on Instagram, my thumb hovering over the screen. It’s been months—months of quiet, isolation, and letting the world forget me while I tried to remember myself. I glance around the room, so used to its stillness. The familiar hush, once comforting, now feels almost suffocating. Outside the window, life goes on, people go on, and I’m here, still debating whether I’m ready to step back into it.

My eyes drift over the message again. Maybe it’s time. Time to hear the noise, to feel the movement, to breathe in more than just silence. I sigh, gathering the courage I didn’t realize I still had in me. With a deep breath, I pick up my phone and click on the message. It’s time to be out there again.

messages

I turn off my phone and place it face down on the table, the screen going black as if signaling the shift I’m about to make. My eyes wander out the window, where the grandstands loom in the distance, already buzzing with life and anticipation. A knot of nerves twists in my stomach as I realize what stepping back into the limelight really means. After months of silence, the thought of all those eyes on me again makes my breath catch in my throat.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. The air feels cool and crisp against my skin, a slight contrast to the rising anxiety inside me. Reaching for the complimentary bottle of sparkling water on the table, I unscrew the cap, the soft hiss breaking the quiet. I take a sip, hoping the bubbles will settle me.

Just as I set the bottle back down, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye—someone walking toward my table. My heart skips a beat, but before I can gather my thoughts to say something, they speak first, breaking the moment.

“You must be Y/N! Hi, I’m Diana (not relevant to anyone irl), here to guide you down and give you the paddock tour!” Her smile radiates warmth, as if it spreads from her lips all the way down to her toes, instantly putting me at ease.

I return the smile, though mine is softer, still testing the waters. “Yes, that’s me.” My voice feels steady, which is a small relief.

I stand up from my seat, taking a moment to smooth down my outfit. Carefully, I push the chair back into place, making sure every movement is deliberate, giving myself just a little more time to adjust. I reach for my phone, sliding it into my back pocket, the familiar weight grounding me. Then I pick up my purse, feeling its soft leather strap slide over my shoulder as I take a deep breath.

“Ready?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I nod, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves swirl inside me as I let her lead the way, stepping back into a world I’ve been away from for so long.

As we make our way through the winding hallways of the paddock, the hum of activity grows louder with each step. My heart beats in time with the click of my heels on the hard floor, and I can feel the familiar rush of anticipation building as we head down the stairs toward the grid. With each step, I mentally brace myself for the crowd—the faces, the voices, the attention. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the thick of it all, and I silently rehearse how to hold myself together.

Just as my nerves start to rise, Diana slows her pace and falls into step beside me. Her presence is steady, comforting. “If you ever want to head back up during your time down here, just let me know,” she says gently, her voice low enough that it feels like she’s speaking just to me, despite the noise around us. “The team let me know you might be feeling a bit nervous with how sudden all this is.”

Her words catch me off guard, and my heart skips a beat, warmth spreading through me. The thought that the team has gone out of their way to make sure I’m okay—that they’re taking precautions for me—feels incredibly thoughtful, almost protective. It’s more than I expected.

I can’t help but grin, the tension in my chest loosening just a bit. “That’s really sweet, thank you,” I say, my voice light with gratitude. Knowing they’ve got my back makes everything feel a little less daunting.

I smile as I hear the start of one of my songs, love story , start playing (by taylor swift) in the background. As I start to hum, my phone dings.

I took my phone out of my back pocket and looked to see a message from Williams Racing on instagram.

messages

I slip my phone back into my pocket, feeling its familiar weight settle against my hip. Turning my attention to Diana, I notice she’s mid-conversation, her voice lilting as she discusses the unusually warm weather for this time of year. The sun beats down, making the air almost sticky, and I can feel a light sheen of sweat beginning to form at the back of my neck. I clear my throat with a small cough to get her attention before speaking.

“I’ll be alright now,” I say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. “I got invited to the Williams garage.”

Her eyebrows lift in mild surprise, and she tilts her head with a curious smile. “Oh? That’s nice. I can walk you there if you’d like,” she offers, a hint of genuine warmth in her tone as she falls into step beside me.

I nod gratefully, returning her smile. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”

As we make our way through the crowded paddock, the buzz of activity surrounds us. The hum of engines revving in the distance, the faint scent of burning rubber, and the excited chatter of fans create a sensory tapestry that is unmistakably Formula 1. The Williams garage is up ahead, its blue and white banners standing out among the sea of team colors.

Just as we draw closer, I spot a familiar figure—Mr. Vowles, the team principal, standing by the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back as he speaks with a group of engineers. There’s a calm authority in his posture, even as the hustle of the race weekend unfolds around him.

My pulse quickens as we draw even closer to the Williams garage. The flurry of activity around us feels almost suffocating, and I can’t help but notice the curious glances from passersby. It’s my first public appearance after months of being away, and the weight of those unsaid questions hangs heavy in the air.

As we approach the entrance, Mr. Vowles looks up from his conversation, sensing our presence. His expression shifts from concentration to a welcoming grin, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “There you are,” he says, his voice carrying a tone of easy familiarity. “Hello, Y/N! I’m James Vowles, but please, just call me James.”

He extends a hand, his demeanor friendly and inviting despite the bustling surroundings. There’s a hint of recognition in his gaze—like he’s aware of who I am, or maybe just curious about the singer who suddenly vanished from the limelight.

I hum softly, finding my voice as I step forward to shake his hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, James.” I offer a small smile, hoping it comes across as more confident than I feel. “Thank you for offering up your garage for me. I appreciate the hospitality.”

His grin widens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—respect, perhaps, or a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken stories that linger between us. “Our pleasure. It’s not every day we have a special guest with such a storied background. You’re more than welcome here.”

Diana hums thoughtfully and glances at James, a playful glint in her eye. “I leave her in your care,” she says with a smile, her tone light but sincere. She then turns to me, her expression softening. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Until next time,” she adds, giving me a small wave before turning on her heel and walking off, her figure soon blending into the sea of people.

I’m left standing at the entrance of the garage, the faint sounds of machinery and chatter surrounding me as I take in the unfamiliar scene. There’s a moment of hesitation, the feeling of being out of place creeping in despite the warm welcome.

“So… what now?” I say, glancing up at James with a faint chuckle to mask my uncertainty. “I’ve never been to one of these before. No idea what I’m supposed to do.”

James chuckles at my honesty, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, I’m sure Diana gave you a good tour around the paddock and the grid,” he says, crossing his arms casually. “But how about meeting the drivers? I’m sure Alex and Franco can spare a few minutes to say hello.”

There’s a friendly enthusiasm in his voice, as if he’s eager to make me feel at home in this high-octane world. The idea of meeting the drivers piques my curiosity, and a hint of nervous excitement stirs within me.

I perk up at the suggestion, though the flutter of nervousness in my chest is hard to ignore. Meeting the drivers feels like venturing into unfamiliar territory—a glimpse behind the curtain that I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared for. I’ve spent so long away from the public eye that even casual encounters seem daunting, like I’m out of practice.

“That sounds great,” I reply, managing a genuine smile despite the unease tightening in my chest. “I’d love to meet them.” My voice wavers just a little, betraying the anxious energy simmering beneath the surface. “I’ve seen Alex race on TV before, but I’ve never actually met a driver… or been this close to the action.” I laugh softly, hoping it comes off as lighthearted rather than strained.

“Lead the way?” I add, glancing at James with a mix of eagerness and uncertainty, my hands fidgeting at my sides. There’s excitement, yes, but also the familiar weight of anxiety, making me wonder if I’ll manage to fit into this world—or if I’ll just feel out of place all over again.

f1 just posted!

liked by williamsracing, username8, and 79,277 others

f1 a little birdie told us y/n is in the williams hospitality! it looks like williams was the only team to invite y/n inside or the only team she was interested in? #F1 

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username11 i doubt williams was the only team to invite her!

username7 why’re you making it sound like the other teams dislike her? 😭

username2 i still can’t believe y/n is outside 😧

williamsracing the little birdie is correct! she’s safe and sound with us! 💙

↳username11 does this mean she’s meeting the boys???  

↳williamsracing she’s about too! 

username3 but what does this mean musically? is she back? #imdelusional 

third pov

James had sent a message to the drivers’ group chat well before inviting Y/N to the garage, giving them a heads-up to expect a couple of guests later in the day. In the text, he made it clear that they should stay put in Franco’s room and be on the lookout for their arrival. With James’s usual eye for organization, he had made sure to emphasize the importance of keeping things discreet, hoping to avoid any unnecessary chaos in the busy environment.

Inside Franco’s room, the air buzzed lightly with anticipation. Alex and Franco were seated on the worn leather couch, chatting casually about their upcoming schedules. The conversation meandered from the logistics of travel to plans for the off-season, each driver sharing his own ideas for how to make the most of the downtime. Their words overlapped occasionally, excitement rising as they discussed possible locations for training and leisure.

Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted their conversation. Both men paused, glancing at each other before Franco rose from the couch, crossing the room to open the door.

Franco approached the door, turning the handle and pulling it open just enough to catch a glimpse of James standing on the other side. As recognition set in, he swung the door wider, making room for James to step through. A moment later, Y/N appeared behind him, her presence drawing immediate attention as she trailed closely after James.

James strode confidently into the room, his usual air of authority softened by a hint of excitement. “There’s someone I’d like for you two to meet,” he announced, his tone carrying just a touch of mystery. With a subtle gesture, he stepped aside, allowing Y/N to take center stage, her figure framed in the doorway as the focal point of the room.

As Y/N stepped into the room, Alex’s eyes flicked over to her, and he stood up slowly. He knew of her—the whole world did—but seeing her in person, especially after her months away, was different. She held herself with a quiet determination, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in the way her gaze briefly dipped to the floor before rising again.

“Hi, I’m Alex,” he said, keeping his voice soft and extending a hand. He noticed only the slightest hesitation before she took it, her grip firmer than he’d expected.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N replied, her voice steady. She met his gaze, her expression composed but carrying a guardedness that suggested she was still finding her footing. It wasn’t shyness, exactly, but a careful control—like she was reminding herself to be present in the moment.

“It’s good to see you here,” Alex offered with a gentle smile, his tone casual. “Hopefully, things are looking up.”

Y/N nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “Trying to,” she said, her voice a little stronger now. There was more left unsaid, but she seemed willing to let the silence speak for her rather than rushing to fill it.

As Alex stepped back, Franco took a step forward, his gaze irresistibly drawn to Y/N. The moment their eyes met, the world seemed to still, and time stretched in that small space between them. His breath hitched as he glimpsed something in her expression—more than just shyness. It was a quiet determination touched by a vulnerability that tugged at something deep inside him.

“Franco,” he introduced himself, his voice unexpectedly tender. There was a softness in his gaze, as though he could sense the silent courage it took for her to be there, facing the world anew.

“Y/N,” she replied, her voice steady, yet intimate, as if sharing a secret. She held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then looked away—not out of hesitation, but as if deciding how much of herself to lay bare.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Franco murmured, the warmth in his tone matching the gentle curve of his smile. He kept a respectful distance, aware that while she exuded strength, there was still a part of her that seemed fragile, as though testing the waters.

“Likewise,” Y/N responded softly, her hands settling at her sides. She resisted the impulse to fidget, letting the moment linger between them. The silence that followed felt almost deliberate, as if it was allowing something unspoken to take root. Franco found himself drawn to the quiet resilience she radiated—a kind of beauty that seemed to unfold with every second he spent in her presence.

y/n’s pov

After a while of simple yet engaging conversation, I found myself feeling more at ease. I shared how I had always been a fan of racing, my voice growing steadier as I spoke. “There’s something thrilling about watching it unfold on screen,” I said, trying to convey my excitement.

Alex leaned in, intrigued. “That’s great to hear! It’s always nice to meet fans who really appreciate the sport.” His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

Franco nodded, a smile on his face. “It definitely takes a lot of dedication to get here. Every race pushes us to prove ourselves.” His sincerity made me feel even more connected to their world.

As the conversation shifted to their plans for the day, Alex described the strategies for securing points in the race, his passion evident. “It’s all about timing and reading the situation,” he explained, and I listened intently, occasionally asking questions to show my genuine interest.

I relished this moment, enjoying the chance to connect with them. For a brief time, the weight of my absence from the limelight felt lighter, and I was just another fan in the room.

Just as they began to delve deeper into the day’s logistics, James cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “Time to head back to the paddock area,” he announced. “The pre-race interviews are about to start.”

I felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought of leaving this conversation behind, but I nodded. “Good luck out there. I’ll be cheering for you both,” I said sincerely, glancing at both drivers, though my gaze lingered on Franco a beat longer, as if the words were meant just for him.

As I followed James toward the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, catching Franco’s eye one last time. I offered him a small, lingering smile, hoping to hold onto the quiet connection we had just begun to form, even as we braced ourselves for the chaos of race day.

F1GOSSIP just posted!

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F1GOSSIP oh? Is this just franco being his charming self or is something brewing? this is after franco got asked how meeting y/n was. If you have the full clip, please send it in!

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username2 me when y/n announces new music #imdelusional 

username9 no! y/n’s mineeee stay back 🤺🤺🤺

username1 my reaction when i see my leftovers still uneaten in the fridge 

username3 let’s not get carried away chat

username8 they’d lowkey be cute ,no?

username4 here goes mr rizzler

username5 we think y/n giggling at this or not even knowing that he’s basically down bad? 

As I gaze out the window of the paddock suite, my heart thrums with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, waiting for the drivers’ parade to conclude so the race can finally commence. The vibrant colors of the team uniforms blur together in a whirlwind of excitement outside, a stark contrast to the stillness within me. 

I’ve spent so long in hiding—wrapped in the suffocating embrace of identity crises, exhaustion, and a profound sense of disconnection from everything I once held dear. The weight of fame had become unbearable, each flash of a camera a reminder of the lack of privacy I craved. I’d watched as my personal relationships—family, friends—slipped through my fingers, one by one, until I was left with only echoes of laughter in empty rooms.

For the past several months, my life felt like an endless loop of anxiety and depression, a tangled web of emotions that left me feeling isolated and unrecognizable even to myself. The music that once flowed so freely from my soul now felt like a distant memory, a faint whisper drowned out by the noise of my insecurities.

I close my eyes, massaging my temples gently as I let the world around me fade into a soft murmur. The noise of the paddock, the distant roar of engines, and the chatter of eager fans all blend into a soothing backdrop as I focus inward. I think long and hard about what I truly want to do, contemplating the next steps I need to take to reclaim my sense of self and direction.

Images flash through my mind—memories of laughter, music, and the vibrant life I once lived, alongside the shadows of doubt and uncertainty that have lingered for far too long. I sift through these feelings, weighing the burden of expectations against the freedom of possibility. It’s not just about what others want for me; it’s about what I want for myself.

I draw in a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I clear my mind of the noise. Slowly, I allow the weight of indecision to lift, replaced by a flicker of clarity. I envision the goals I’ve set aside and the dreams that still ignite a spark within me. With each thought, I feel a renewed sense of determination taking shape.

Finally, I open my eyes again, and the world around me comes back into focus, sharper and more vibrant than before. There’s a newfound sense of purpose coursing through my veins, a conviction that I can chart my own course and embrace the unknown. I sit up a little straighter, feeling invigorated by the possibilities that lie ahead, ready to take the next step with confidence and resolve. With all that said and done, I picked up my phone with an idea in mind.

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yourusername I’ve tried in so many ways to come back, but I always took a U-turn, doubting myself and slipping deeper into a place I never thought I’d find myself in. The past several months have been a struggle—a relentless cycle of exhaustion, anxiety, and moments of profound loneliness. The weight of the spotlight felt more like a shackle than a blessing, and I lost sight of who I am and what brings me joy.

I hope you guys miss me as much as I missed you. It’s hard to be away from the people and things I love, especially when music has been my lifeline. I spent so long in my own head, pushing away friends and family, that I forgot how vital connection is to my soul.

But here I am at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, surrounded by the roar of engines and the thrill of the upcoming race, feeling that spark igniting again. This moment is a powerful reminder of the joy that comes from pursuing what we love. I’m learning to embrace the chaos and take the first steps toward rebuilding my life, piece by piece.

So, this isn’t just a post; it’s a promise. I’m finding my way back to music, to the stage, and to myself. I can’t wait to share new songs with you, but more importantly, I want to reconnect with you all in ways that matter.

Stay tuned, because I’m not just coming back; I’m coming back stronger, and I have so much to share. 

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username1 the scream i just scrumpt and the race hasn’t even started yet!!!

username2 god answered my prayers and i’m not talking about lando world domination!

↳username10 lando we can be world champions i said!! 🧡

username3  lowk just got chills omg

username4 NEW MUSIC COMING ALERT!!!!

username5 it’s too early to be crying 😢

username6 WE MISSED YOU MORE!!

username7 you’re never alone y/n! i’m here 🤗

username8 lowk heartbreaking knowing the reason you left was due to struggles and not because you wanted to go on vacation or something 😔

username9 my queen, im deeply glad to have you back with us 💕

williamsracing ay, i see the williams team! the team will always be here for you y/n, especially when you need motivation and support! 💙💙

↳username5 ok now im sobbing

↳username11 this is deadass too cute 

↳username2 who’s cutting onions?

I shut my phone off and tuck it into my purse, sealing away any connection to the world outside this moment. No more notifications, no more distractions—just me, here. I glance around the paddock, surrounded by a sea of busy engineers, media personnel, and team members, all bustling with excitement as the race is about to begin. The walls of the hospitality suite insulate me from the noise of the crowd outside, but I can still feel the thrum of energy reverberating through the glass.

I shift my focus to the grid on the screen in front of me, watching the drivers as they line up in their spots, engines purring in anticipation. Outside, the Texas sun beats down relentlessly on the Circuit of the Americas, casting long shadows on the track. I can feel the tension building, a nervous buzz in the air as the seconds tick down to lights out.

I take a deep breath, but it’s not because of the race about to unfold. No, this moment is about something much bigger. The relief that comes with turning off my phone is like a release—a tangible sense of freedom I haven’t felt in what seems like forever .And now, watching the cars settle into position, the drivers preparing for the challenge ahead, it feels symbolic—like I’m waiting for my own race to begin.

The engines rev louder, vibrating through the floor beneath me, and I exhale slowly. The lights above the starting line flash red, one by one. My heart pounds in time with the countdown, but this time, it’s not out of fear or anxiety. It’s out of anticipation. I’m ready. As the lights blink off and the cars roar forward, I feel it—this is the start of something new, not just for them, but for me too. My own restart, right here, right now.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 9

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: evan picks you up and takes you to homecoming, being very excited for you to wear his jersey. while you know nothing about football, you make sure to cheer him on, leading to a bit of teasing from evan’s teammates.

word count: 4.0k

previous chapter

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A/N: so after i wrote this i decided to make them students at USC, and after googling their stadium i realized it was way bigger than how i wrote it, so lots of this is barely believable if you’re actually familiar with american college football and their stadiums/crowds/etc (i think? i’m not american). this is so main character coded and also is probably not accurate to real homecomings at all but i don’t care!! just ignore it<3 by the way, the touchdown conversation is also based on my very real (and very awkward) conversation i had with a man (i call it fucking idiot rizz)😔 im so sorry to put you through it rn. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: reader knows nothing about football (affectionate), evan playing football (hot), no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

At 6:00, a knock on the door interrupts your pacing. You can’t help being nervous, thinking about watching a game you don’t know any of the rules for, about going to an afterparty with a bunch of rowdy football players, about everyone seeing you with Evan’s name on your back. As much as it makes butterflies swarm in your belly, a part of you is nervous about the attention it might bring you.

You open the door and are faced with Evan, a wide grin on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes trail down your body, noticing your short jean shorts showing off your thick thighs, and your white oversized crop top hanging off your shoulder slightly, showing off a sliver of your soft tummy and cleavage.

“Hi.” you greet him softly, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind you, holding eye contact with him.

“Hey princess, you look good.” he tells you, his hand going to the back of your neck to pull you in for a chaste kiss. You hum softly as his lips meet yours, leaning into him..

“Thank you,” you mumble against his lips. You pull back as he does, and look down, rubbing your hands down your jeans to calm your nerves. “We should go. Don’t wanna be late.” you try to change the subject, grabbing his hand to pull him down the hall. As many times as he’s complimented you in the past few weeks, it still makes your stomach flip and your face to get hot, not being used to all the attention.

“Hey, hold on. I’ve got something for you.” he tells you, a smirk growing on his face as he catches onto your nerves. He pulls you back by the hand, putting his hands on your waist and turning you to face him. You put your hands on his chest to steady yourself as he spins you around, a short laugh escaping your throat as you look up at him.

He holds his jersey up close to your face with one hand, his smirk growing as you reach your hand out to grab it.

“Uh uh. I wanna put it on you myself.” he teases, fingers nudging the underside of your arms, urging you to raise them.

You oblige, shaking your head with a smile, eyes focused on him as he lowers it over your head. He slides it over your body, biting his lip as he takes in the sight. It’s slightly oversized on you, as it has to be quite large to fit over him and all of his gear. It comes down to rest just below the edge of your short shorts, making it look like you’re not wearing pants, which causes you to giggle softly as you look down at the jersey on your body.

You reach down, grabbing one side of the jersey and tucking it into the waistband of your shorts, letting it hang diagonally across you so people can at least see you are wearing shorts underneath his jersey.

“Good?” you ask softly, looking back up at him, but you don’t even need to wait for his words to know that it is. His eyes darken as he stares at you wearing his clothes, and a sense of possessiveness rumbles through him. He has to resist the urge to push you back into your apartment and take you right on your kitchen counter.

“Yeah, baby, you’re good.” he rasps, taking your hand and kissing it softly before pulling you down the hall, pulling you close and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Once you’re both in the jeep, he makes the short drive over to the stadium; you could’ve walked, but he didn’t want to have to carry his bag the whole way.

His hand finds its way to your thigh almost instantly, his eyes sparking as he glances at you in his passenger seat. You notice how his eyes keep making their way over to you, taking in the sight of your perfect, thick thighs covering the seat, and his jersey clinging to your body.

“What?” you ask after a minute or two, laughing softly as he meets your gaze, shrugging.

“You just look so good in my passenger seat, princess.” he purrs, taking his hand off your thigh for a moment to grab your hand and raise it to his lips. You bite your lip as you look back out the window, noticing the sea of people in red and yellow shirts making their way down the sidewalk to the stadium.

“Are you ready? Excited? Nervous?” you ask after a moment, feeling nerves bubbling in your stomach for him, knowing how many people will be watching today.

“I’m not nervous. You’re gonna be sitting in the front row watching me. It’ll only make me work harder.” he says with a wink as he pulls into a parking spot and puts the jeep in park.

“You’re gonna be great. And I know nothing about football, so even if you aren’t, I won’t be able to tell.” you tell him as you turn in your seat to face him, a small, and slightly embarrassed smile on your face.

“So, you mean to tell me that you agreed to come to my game, and you don’t even know how many points a touchdown is?” He laughs at your words, shaking his head. It makes his heart swell a little; thinking of you being here just because he wants you to.

“Seven?” you say as more of a question than an answer, embarrassment filling your stomach. “If not, then I know less about football than I thought.” you finish with a small laugh, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Close, princess. It’s six.” he says in a gentle tone, a smile glued to his face. You’re so cute, he thinks, he can’t wait to see you in the stands.

“But what about the kick, or whatever? That makes seven, right?” you argue softly, raising a brow.

“Yes, but that’s an extra point. That’s not how much the actual touchdown is worth.” You roll your eyes at his words, laughing softly.

“Alright, whatever.” you get out before his lips are on yours, his hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

“I appreciate the effort, though. But just because you don’t know anything about football doesn’t mean you don’t have to cheer for me.” he tells you sternly once he pulls back, but you can see the glint in his eye as you nod.

“I’ll just cheer when everyone else does.” you joke, although you’re dead serious. You hope that the game will be easy enough to follow along with, but your plan if it’s not is to wait until everyone else starts to cheer.

“Deal.” he murmurs, leaning in to meet your lips again.

“Okay, lets go. You still need to get ready.” you tell him as you push him away, not letting his lips meet yours. He groans, but then agrees and gets out of the jeep.

He grabs your hands once his bag is over his shoulder, smiling to himself as he feels you wrap your other arm around his bicep.

As he leads you into the stadium, he notices a guy’s eyes on you, and he feels jealousy flare up inside of him. He squeezes your hand instinctively, which causes you to look up at him, completely unaware of the situation.

“Are you okay? Are you sure you’re not nervous?” you ask softly, stepping closer as the crowd gets more and more dense. He nods stiffly, his jaw clenched. Maybe this isn’t as good of an idea as he thought.

“I’m fine, princess. I don’t get nervous,” he tells you, his eyes still ahead of him. “Especially not with my good luck charm beside me.” he mentions after a moment in a softer voice. He finally looks down at you, feeling his jealousy slipping away as he sees your big wide eyes looking up at him.

You hum softly, face growing hot at his words as you look down at the ground, trusting him to lead you through the crowd.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket with the hand that’s not holding yours, groaning as he realizes that he should’ve been in the locker room a few minutes ago. He stops and turns to you, which makes you look up to meet his eyes.

“Okay, I have to go. Can you find your way to your seat by yourself?” he asks, ducking down slightly to better match your height. You nod, biting your lip.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be sitting right behind the bench, waiting to cheer for you when you score a touchdown, which is worth six points.” you tease, rising onto your toes to meet his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. He happily leans down to meet you halfway, on hand on your hip and the other on your jaw.

“You’re gonna kill it.” you tell him once you both pull away, letting your arms drop from around his neck as you take a step back. He smiles at you, smacking your ass softly as you turn to walk to your seat, eyes glued to the way it jiggles from his touch.

You squeal softly in surprise, then whirl around quickly to look at him. He chuckles, putting his hands up in surrender.

“I can feel my good luck charm working already.” he says with a wink, and you fight back a smile as you shake your head. You turn again, walking to your seat, a smile finally breaking onto your face once you’re turned away from him.

He makes his way to the locker room and gets ready, apologizing quickly as his coach yells at him for being late. He starts feeling his adrenaline growing until it’s time for the teams to come onto the field. He revels in the feeling of so many people cheering for his team, so it takes a few seconds for him to find you in the large stadium, exactly where you said you’d be.

You grin widely as you see him running onto the field, standing in your seat on the aisle and cheering with the rest of the crowd. As he runs over to the bench, his grin widens and he gives you a wink, which isn’t lost on some of his teammates. They look at each other with raised brows, but they can’t tell who he’s looking at in the sea of red and yellow.

The game starts quickly, and you have to admit, you have no idea what’s going on. Your eyes move between the ball and Evan, and you think he’s doing really well, as he keeps blocking and tackling the other team. The first quarter seems to be pretty uneventful, however, as it’s still 0-0 when it ends.

He jogs over to the bench with his team, taking a drink of water. His eyes find yours again and you beam at him before blowing him a kiss. You can’t help it; you think seeing him playing football is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His smile widens as he pretends to catch it, trying to angle his body so his teammates don’t see his actions, but his smile drops as he hears his teammates laughing behind him. He turns to them, shoving the teammate closest to him, mumbling a small “shut up” before his head turns back in your direction.

You feel bad as you notice his teammates teasing him, and when he turns back to you, you mouth a quick “sorry.” He shakes his head, however, mouthing back “it’s okay” as he gives you another wink.

“Head in the game, loverboy.” he hears behind him, along with a few of his teammates laughing.

He turns back to his friend Owen, mumbling a rough “whatever, man” as he fights back a smile. Despite his clenched jaw and stern expression at their teasing, he can’t help feeling a little giddy as he keeps the image of you in his jersey in his mind.

The second quarter starts, and things start to pick up, and you’re starting to figure out a little bit more about what’s going on. Both teams have scored some touchdowns, but Evan’s team is still up by a few points, which you’re thankful for. You can’t imagine the pressure he and the rest of the team have on them, despite how unphased Evan seemed to be earlier.

You keep your word, cheering when the rest of the crowd cheers, feeling a sense of pride that you have his name on your back whenever he does something for his team. You’re amazed at what he can do, how he tackles and blocks the other team, how he throws and catches the ball. You could never do any of that, you think, you can’t get over how strong he must be do to all of this.

The whistle blows to signal halftime, and you watch as Evan and the rest of the team jog to the locker room. As you wait for the game to continue, you pull out your phone, feeling a little awkward as everyone around you is talking to other people they came with. You decide to text Evan quickly.

You: You’re doing great. You’re gonna kill it in the second half<3

He grabs his phone from his locker as he hears it chime, a smile making its way onto his face as he reads your message. As he’s about to type out a reply, Owen sees the way he stopped responding to him, and turns to face him with a smirk.

“That your girlfriend?” A few of the guys look over as Owen speaks with surprised expressions, not quite used to the idea of Evan having a girl come to any of their games. They’ve seen him with girls at parties before, but he was never serious enough about them for much else.

In an instant, one of the other guys, Luca, grabs Evan’s phone from his hand, another one, Cam, coming in just as quick to block Evan from getting the phone back.

“Look at this, he got a good luck text from his girl.” Luca teases, holding the phone out for a few of the other guys to see. Evan groans, still trying to get around Cam to get his phone back. He can feel himself getting angry, although he knows deep down there’s no reason to be. It feels like they’re stealing you away from him, as if you’re the phone.

“You got a crush, man?” another teammate asks, chuckling softly and patting him on the back.

You watch your text switch from delivered to read, and you’re happy that he’s seen it, but you can’t help but frown when he doesn’t respond. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through you, and feeling a little worked up from seeing Evan playing, you send him another text, hoping to encourage him further.

Luca puts a hand to his mouth as another text comes in, laughing loudly as he looks up at Evan with wide eyes.

“Damn, man. Now I know why you chose her.” he teases, tilting the phone as a few players look over his shoulder at the text. Evan still struggles around Cam, his face getting red in frustration and jealousy. What did you say, he thinks?

“Got yourself a punt bunny, Buckley?” another chimes in right as Evan finally grabs his phone back, looking down at the text quickly.

You: If you win, I’ll give you a reward later.

He can’t help but smirk at his phone, the chatter from his teammates fading into the background as he rereads your words. He’s a little surprised at them, but he can’t help the way his dick twitches at the idea. He starts to think about the many ways you could reward him when his coach starts speaking loudly, going over the game plan one more time before the game resumes.

He types a quick response before shoving his phone back in his locker, listening intently to the coaches words.

Evan: I’ll keep that in mind, princess.

The third quarter starts a minute or two after you get a response from Evan, butterflies filling your stomach as your brain finally catches up with what you texted him. You bite your lip as nerves fill your stomach, but they’re pushed aside as soon as you see Evan in his gear, a wave of desire flowing through you again.

Everything is going well until there’s only three minutes left in the quarter. You watch as a player comes out of nowhere, tackling Evan to the ground. He stays down for a few moments after the other player gets off of him, groaning in pain.

You shoot up from your seat, raising a hand to your mouth as your breath catches in your throat. Dread fills every inch of your body as you watch him lay still, fighting the urge to run onto the field and make sure he’s okay yourself. Why isn’t anyone checking on him, you think as you watch intently, barely blinking as you study his form.

Finally, he sits up slowly, shaking his head before he gets up. You let out a shaky breath, feeling your shoulders drop as he slowly stands up and signals he’s good to keep playing. You bite your nail anxiously as you keep your eyes on him, not even focusing on the ball until the quarter is over.

He makes his way to the bench, his body aching a little, but nothing he’s not used to. He takes his helmet off and looks up at you, immediately noticing your unease. He gives you a thumbs up and a wide smile, hoping to calm your nerves, and it works slightly. You stop biting your nail and give him a small smile, but you want this game to be over immediately so you can make sure he’s okay.

You see that they’re now down by a point, and you wait anxiously for the last quarter to start, barely paying attention to anything as your eyes go unfocused and your eyes move across the stadium.

Evan’s heart swells at your nervousness. Although he doesn’t want you to worry, he can’t help the warm feeling in his chest because he knows you’re worried about him.

The fourth quarter is almost over, and Evan would be lying if he said his head is completely in the game. He’s still playing as hard as he can, but he can’t help his mind wander to you in his jersey, and the text you sent. He knows that this game is important, but all he sees when he glances at the scoreboard is how many minutes until he can get you back to his place.

The game ends, and the entire stadium erupts in chaos, and you can’t help but shoot up from your seat, jumping up and down with the rest of the crowd with a huge smile. They won.

You watch the team celebrate with each other on the field, and you can feel the excitement coming off of them. You know it’s Evan’s last year on the team, as you’re both graduating at the end of the year, and you’re so happy that his last homecoming game is ending with a win.

You watch as the teams make their way off the fields, and you wait a few minutes for the stands to clear out slightly before making your way towards the locker rooms, standing where you and Evan parted ways earlier.

He’s quick to change once he gets to the locker room, not even bothering to shower before he throws all his things in his bag. He celebrates with his teammates for a few minutes, but as they start to get ready to shower, he’s leaving the locker room faster than he ever has.

You lean against the wall as you anxiously wait to see Evan exiting the locker room, and you can’t help the squeal you let out when you finally see him, a large grin erupting on your face. You practically run over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, overwhelmed by the happiness you feel. He drops his bag and wraps his arms around your waist quickly, a soft noise escaping his throat as you run into him.

“Hi, princess.” he says at the same time as you say “you did so good.” You both laugh softly before he responds in your ear, not wanting to let you go.

“Of course, I did. I had my good luck charm with me.” You laugh softly, pulling back just enough to meet his lips in a searing kiss. But, almost immediately after you kiss him, you pull back, a worried expression taking over your face.

“Are you okay? You took a pretty hard hit.” you ask softly, your hands moving to his cheeks, searching his eyes for any sign of pain. He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he feels his cheeks flush slightly.

“I’m fine, princess. Don’t worry about me.” he whispers before leaning in again, pulling you as close to him as he can with his hands on your waist. He pulls back after a moment, not wanting to get caught by the rest of the team;

he knows he’d never hear the end of it.

He picks up his bag and wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the jeep. You look up at him beside you, noticing the gleam of sweat on his face, and the way his hair sticks to his neck.

“Are we going right to the party? Or are you gonna shower first?” you ask teasingly, giving him a cheeky smile as he looks down at you with a scoff.

“I’m gonna stop by my place and shower quick, princess, don’t worry.” he tells you, giving you a wink as he pulls you closer. You gag jokingly, pushing him away from you, mumbling a “good” as you finally get to the jeep.

“You’re welcome to join me if you want.” he says once you’re both in the jeep, looking over at you with a raised brow. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you meet his gaze, fighting back a smile as you shake your head.

“I don’t get that, it makes no sense. Showers are supposed to be relaxing. If there are two people, one person is standing in the water and the other person is cold.” you tell him seriously, although the more you think of it, the more you like the idea of showering with him. He chuckles at your response, rolling his eyes as he begins to drive the short distance back to his place.

“Well, yeah, if the other person is selfish. You wouldn’t be selfish in the shower, though, would you?” he teases, grabbing your thigh tightly, his thumb gently running across your inner thigh in a drastic contrast.

“I guess you’ll never know.” you tell him teasingly, smirking as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, but I’d like to.” he murmurs as you look out the window, which makes you laugh softly, shaking your head again.

As you make your way to his house, you can’t help the grin plastered to your face. Evan has the windows down, blasting his music, and you can hear the giddy chatter of passing students as they walk down the sidewalk. His hand stays on your hand the entire time, and as you take in all the joy in the air, you feel the excitement bubbling up inside you for the night to come.

next chapter

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hey honey!! So Im back with more dad!tan request. What if like y/n and tan were not dating, maybe just one night stand or were kinda talking at some point/friends with benefits, and tan did not know he was a dad until he runs into y/n either during a mission or just like at the store, and y/n has like a 5 year old who looks like tan. Like… the DRAMA!!

Hope you’re doing well hon!!

-🍼

hii bb!! I just realised that I automatically wrote this in headcanon format, hope that’s okay. I really love this idea🤭 thanks for requesting hope you like it💌 sending love

I got carried away, apologies!! wc: 675

TAN NOT KNOWING HE’S A DAD.

at the beginning, maybe his job got in the way, so you both kept things casual - ie friends with benefits. things ended abruptly and kinda suddenly, and you lost contact. and then soon after you split, you found out you were pregnant

you didn't tell him as you knew he wasn't ready, and bc of how things ended, you didn't want to bring him back into your life. maybe you relied on the support of family and friends to get you through the pregnancy (and with the uncertainty at the start)

I always write tan having a girl, so im gonna switch it up and say you had a boy (WHO is practically the spitting image of tan. but he also has a mix of your genes too. your body did the work. you deserve the credit for a pretty baby too)

when you were pregnant and when baby boy was born, you kept it secret and hidden. and didn't tell tan. you were very conflicted about it. you wanted him to know that he had a child, but you couldn't stomach the potential disappointment for you and your son. and then you got so busy bringing him up, that the time almost flew by. over the next couple years, you debated picking up the phone to text him, but every time you see your last message chats, you decide against it

maybe your son's birthday is coming up in a couple days, so you take him to the store to pick out decorations and flavours for his cake. he's sat in the trolley, playing with a toy while you walk down the aisles. THEN maybe you see the back of someone familiar... see where this is going?? so you try to avoid him and go down another

then out of nowhere, tan pops up and you both see each other. maybe bc of the child in the trolley, he feels compelled to say hi to you (he's nosey like that) and you do one of those internal 'fuck's for making eye contact with someone you don't want to speak to

you twist the trolley and turn baby boy away so tan can't see his face. and you have pleasantries - asking how the other is doing, what they've been up to etc. then the elephant in the room topic comes up. he asks if you're babysitting, then you say no. then he asks if he's your nephew, you say no again. he pauses, connecting the dots. then baby boy turns around and it's game over

and while tan is looking at your son (they have that vision & white vision moment in wandavision. please say you get the reference) and then tan asks how old the kid is, while he's smiling and nodding at the kid. then you say he's almost 5. and he's speaking in a friendly way while entertaining your son (like a baby voice, pretending he's speaking to baby boy but it's actually to you) "he's mine, ain't he?"

and you're looking between them both, and it just makes you feel warm and fuzzy. so you tell him "yeah" and then right after he asks when the birthday is, so you tell him it's in 2 days at your place. so he says to you "is it alright if I come?" and you tell him "yeah" and it's very sincere. and you and tan have this sweet, silent moment. then before leaving, he says to his son "see you in a couple days little buddy" 

and he turns up for the birthday with tonnes of gifts!!!! everything you need that might not have been able to afford (being a single mum and everything) gifts, balloons and basic necessities he wished to have bought when you both needed them

he apologises for everything, and you do too for not telling him (maybe you feel guilty for those 5 missed years) 

he asks if he can come over again tomorrow and do something. asking if he can spend time with both of you

[kaciidubs]

Hiii i’m new here so let me guide you through my chan brain rot so you can decide if this request is worth it or not☝️🤓

Ok so i’ve been thinking about bff Chan picking up fem swimmer!reader from late night practice and getting there a bit early so she’s still in the pool. He gets horny seeing her legs (i’m a simp for swimmers’ legs IM SO SOREY) and soaking wet and they fuck in the dressing room (just bc i think pool sex is too messy but this part is wtv for me).

Honestly i just think Chan is such a but/legs guy, i imagine him going insane between them and fucking the mc so hard to fulfill his horny and sentimental needs towards her.

- 🎃 (pumpkin anon if i may??)

Swim Practice

Oh lovely, I've got Chan brain rot 24/7 so let's get into it!!! And of course you can be pumpkin nonie! Sorry it took me so long! 💕

❣ Summary: Chris, your best friend who picks you up after late night swim practices. Chris, your best friend who might just have a thing for your legs. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, fluff, slight humor, unprotected sex, slight public sex [locker room], slight leg kink [Chris], Reader knows how to swim, Reader is also kinda sassy, Chris being a slightly annoying best friend [lovingly] ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chanstopher, Channie, and Chris, Reader is referred to as Littlest Mermaid and Baby, Chris' dad is mentioned once ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Littlest Mermaid 🪸: Channie! You’re still free to pick me up after practice, yeah? Chanstopher🐺: Yeah, I’ve got you Chanstopher🐺: What time do you get out again? Littlest Mermaid 🪸: I’ve got the place booked till 10 Chanstopher🐺: Late practice again? Littlest Mermaid 🪸: Mhm- Mr. Bahng told me I could since all the little kiddos are in their summer lessons Littlest Mermaid 🪸: I owe you big time I swear!! Chanstopher🐺: Yeah yeah, I’ll see you later!

Chris checked the text chat one last time as he pulled open the door to the community center, checking the time at the top of the screen - 9:34 PM, sure he was a bit early, but there was no way you were actually using the whole reservation time.

You and Chris had been best friends since he accidentally pushed you into the pool during your beginner swim lessons, and when he tried to help you out, you’d used all your 9-year-old strength to pull him in instead - from then on, you both have been attached to the hip. Where he was taking swimming lessons to compete in the local swim meets, you were taking swimming lessons because it was either that or gymnastics, according to your parents.

Still, despite your differing reasons for being in the swim classes - proudly led by his parents - you two managed to turn an unfortunate meeting into a friendship that would stand the test of time; from supporting him in his swim meets to supporting him in award shows, you remained a constant in his life.

Of course, he did his best to reciprocate the same support through sending you a wall of text when he learned you’d be taking up swim meets casually in your own division, and staying up late to watch the recordings of said swim meets that his mom and sister sent on your behalf. 

It was only when he went home one time two years ago that the tradition of him picking you up from late practices began; one surprise pop-up turning into him being your designated ride for as long as he was in Australia.

Walking down the all-too-familiar halls, the smell of chlorine slowly seeped into the air before he reached the double doors of the pool room, various warnings and rule lists plastered across the front. He pushed through the doors, the sound of splashing water proving him wrong as he spotted your form floating in the shallow end - eyes closed and limbs splayed out like a starfish, most likely relaxing after a few laps.

Smirking to himself, Chris snuck toward the edge of the pool you were closest to before bending down, putting his hand in the slightly cold water, and splashing water in your direction - laughing as you slipped back into wading.

“What the actual-?!” Wiping your face free of the droplets - ironically making your face even wetter in the process - your fiery glare landed on a familiar face, “Christopher! What the hell was that for?!”

“You looked too peaceful,” he taunted, tongue peaking out of the side of his mouth before a cheeky grin brightened his features.

You rolled your eyes, dipping your hand in the water before flicking some water back in his direction, “Oh whatever - what’re you doing in here anyways? You usually wait outside.”

He shrugged, “I didn’t think you’d still be in the pool - figured I’d just come in and wait this time, haven’t been inside since last year, you know?”

Puffing your cheeks, you waded your way over to the edge before resting your arms on the tiles, “I guess.. Give me one final lap then we can head out, okay?”

“Knock yourself out - we’re still on for Hungry Jacks after, yeah?”

“Of course! There’s no way I’d pass up food after a practice - or food in general.”

With that, he watched as you shuffled your way through the deep end before swimming toward the other half of the pool where they kept laned off for swim meets.

He had to admit, part of him missed competing and the rush of adrenaline when the buzzer went off and all he had to think about was ‘go’, but watching you set up for a lap made that bitterness just a bit sweeter - knowing that you were able to grow from a kid who claimed swimming like a frog was the best form, to earning a few medals in the breaststroke and butterfly stroke category.

The sound of splashing broke him from his reverie, his eyes locking onto your form as you broke into a breaststroke - simple, effective, a good choice to leave off with after hours of practicing with almost perfect technique.

By the time you had turned to finish out your lap, he was already walking toward the pool chair that had your towel draped over your bag, snatching the cloth in preparation for your grand exit.

Oh, how grand it was.

What he wouldn’t give to be the beads of water dripping down the curve of your hips and thighs, skin glistening under the fluorescent lights of the pool room as you pulled yourself out of the pool with hard-earned strength.

Now that you were up close, he could finally notice how your bathing suit was snugly hugging your shape, each bead of water acting like glitter to catch his eye effortlessly - well, almost effortlessly, as he thrusted the towel in your direction without a moment’s notice.

“Uh- Here!”

You took the towel gratefully, shooting him an earnest smile as you took the time to wipe down your arms and chest, “Thanks - just give me a second to rinse off and change, then we can head out.”

Chris meant to answer you, truly he did, but all thoughts of a reply fizzled out into nothing as his eyes began the exciting trail down your body once more - god, he never noticed how wonderfully shaped you were until now, especially your legs.

Curvy, sculpted, from your thighs to your calves, he could only imagine how strong they were - how they’d feel wrapped around his head.

He was a simple man, if he found someone attractive, it was because of a multitude of things, but those legs - your legs, were making him feel like he was a teenager going through puberty again.

“Channie?”

His eyes snapped up to yours, immediately clocking the sparkle of humor mixing with something unfamiliar - it made his stomach flip.

“I could use some help getting out of my bathing suit, if you don’t mind?”

Of course, as a great best friend, who was he to deny you help when you asked?

He could only assume that he was an even greater best friend from the way you were quivering underneath him, your hands holding onto the edge of the towel-covered bench for stability as he fucked you into next week.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, one hand keeping your right leg pressed against his chest while the other gripped your hip, bathing suit laid in a wet heap somewhere along with his sweats and underwear. “You’ve got no clue how many times I’ve dreamt of this.”

Your cunt clenched around him, a shuddering moan falling from your lips as you nodded, “S-Same- fuck, wanted you so bad, Chris- E-Every time you visit.”

“You-” An incredulous scoff escaped him, lips pulling into a cocky smirk, “You waited until now to make a move? Baby, I could’ve been fucking this sweet pussy ages ago?”

You wanted to reply, maybe offer him an apology of some sorts, but his thrusts didn’t let up and the sight of him ducking his head down to press a fleeting kiss to your ankle made your brain evaporate.“It’s fine - we can make up for lost time, yeah?” Dropping his hand to the back of your knee, he pushed your leg up to your torso, mirroring the act with his other hand and your other leg, “After here, after Hungry Jacks, I’m spending the rest of the night with you, between these gorgeous legs of yours.”

[rrxnjun]

dancing in my backseat ✲ l. donghyuck

pairing. film student! donghyuck x film student! fem! reader starring. uchinaga aeri genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive warnings. mentions of alcohol and weed, swearing, sexual innuendos word count. 24k (24.047) a/n. please dont hate me for the fact that this does not have any expected smut in it i tried and it felt too awkward i just COULDN'T. also this fic doesn't fit the image of it i had in my head at all but i actually kind of prefer this version over the prev idea i had anyway <;3

playlist. marvelous - wallows / crash my car - coin / test drive - ariana grande / streets - doja cat / no manners - superm / feather - sabrina carpenter / AEAO - dynamicduo / wet tongue - thomas headon / car crash - eaj / delicious - the boyz / but i like you - boynextdoor

there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the number of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in league of legends, and lastly, their cars— or— where you would never fuck a guy without a driver's licence.

✲ PART 3 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

If anyone asked you about your relationship with Lee Donghyuck, you’d scoff at them and simply state that the resident gemini was your moral enemy. Was that true? No. No, of course it wasn’t– there was nothing this man has done in his life to get on your bad side, and you truly don’t feel any hatred towards him, but at the end of the day, it’s always easier to say this than to explain the exact feelings you have towards the male without sounding at least a bit overly-dramatic.

See, you don’t hate Lee Donghyuck; you don’t think he’s your enemy either– you just find him absolutely, excruciatingly annoying.

And it’s not his personality, no– although you do admit that the way he carries himself and has such high mind about himself is quite alarming– the way your toes curl and the hair on your body stands up, all alert in sheer ick and disgust, has nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with your experience with the man. 

The first time you find Lee Donghyuck intensely annoying is when you get a text one day (having acquired his phone number from one of the class group chats, since the two of you major in the same program), at 9 in the morning, approximately 15 minutes before you have to leave your apartment to get to your fist class of the day. The man picked the wrong time to bother you, since it was Monday, of all days– the beginning of the week always manages to rile you up just because it exists in the first place– and you could give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn’t his fault at all and you woke up grumpy already, but the events that happened after made you so deeply disturbed and annoyed to your core that there truly wasn’t any other word left in your vocabulary to describe Lee Donghyuck than the adjective already mentioned – annoying.

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi im in a crisis lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u pls throw some toilet paper lee donghyuck (film theory class) – we ran out and my roommate already left for class lee donghyuck (film theory class) – pleaaaaase

Staring at the texts appearing on your phone screen in a hurry, you stop in your tracks and furrow your brows at the contact name in confusion. The truth is, you haven’t spoken to Lee Donghyuck that many times– you just know that he’s friends with your friend Lee Yangyang from high school and you two meet occasionally at the said friend’s gatherings. Plus, you had a discussion or two about the beauty of Quentin Tarantino movies when you met at orientation in freshman year, and that's also when you learned that he’s your neighbor; in fact, the window to his flat's bathroom and his very own bedroom face yours. But that’s about as far as it goes when it comes to your closeness. You’re not familiar enough with him to text each other or to think of each other in a time of need, so to have his first texts to you be about him being out of toilet paper is a thing to really dwell on to fully understand the extent of the bad impression this man had on you.

you – what the fuck

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – just open the window and throw me some lee donghyuck (film theory class) – i am good at catching

you – im in a hurry rn. gotta get to class

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – SO DO I why else do u think id be up this early lee donghyuck (film theory class) – so PLEASE throw me the damn toilet paper so im not late today

Shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you’re currently having, too confused and tired to deal with it so early in the morning, you walk up to your room and look out of the window. Right opposite of you, not being further than 10 meters, if you’re being absolutely exact, is Lee Donghyuck’s head popping out from the bottom rim of his bathroom window, seemingly still sitting on the toilet. The look in his eyes is desperate as he clasps his hands together and mouths “Please!” at you, his face forming into a truly humiliating scowl that makes you wonder if he's truly done with what he'd been doing on the toilet only a few minutes prior. 

Sighing, you turn on your feet and escape your room– not noticing the absolutely disturbed and mortified face Donghyuck’s pulling behind your back, thinking you abandoned him and took off for class– and you truly can’t believe yourself when you walk into your own bathroom and take the half-used roll of toilet paper off the stand, murmuring a silent “Fucking hell” under your nose as you walk back to your bedroom and open up your window wide. Donghyuck’s eyes light up now, as if he was a kid under a Christmas tree about to receive a gift from Santa.

“If it falls to the street, I’m not getting it!” you yell after the boy, seeing as he eagerly nods and ushers you with a wave of his hands.

“Just throw it and I’ll be sure to catch it!” he nods, waiting for you to start your career in the new twist on baseball– a sport you’d call a toilet roll throw against the street. His eyes seem focused, knowing this is his only opportunity at wiping his ass this morning (why neither of you thought of suggesting to use the shower instead, you don't know to this day– perhaps it was too early in the morning for such complex strategies), when you surprisingly do your best at aiming for his window– thank god you both live on the same floor– and throw the roll across the alleyway, the paper unwinding only slightly before it lands on the floor of Lee Donghyuck’s pearl white bathroom.

“Thank you so much, you are my savior!” he yells, his head disappearing from the window, leaving you alone in your room to watch the commotion. When nothing happens for a while, you only shake your head in disbelief once again, deciding your job here is over and you can finally take off for your dreaded lecture.

“I’ll get going!” you scream into the void, scratching the back of your neck, aimlessly. 

“Mhm! See you later!” 

Nodding to yourself, you sigh, closing the window and doing a double take as you’re about to leave your flat for class, hopefully still on time. In disbelief, feeling the second-hand embarrassment seeping to your bones, you put on your shoes at the entrance and swear to yourself that you’re never gonna answer any of Lee Donghyuck’s texts ever again.

The previous scene already established that you’re no stranger to second hand embarrassment. I’m sure all of you have experienced it before– seeing someone desperately flirt with your friend, knowing that they’re not interested… Watching a drama and being absolutely grossed out with the script, wondering how the actors got convinced to take on the role… Hearing someone say an absurd answer in class… There are many, for sure, and the list could just keep going. You saw it with your own eyes as well, when your friend Choi Beomgyu tried hard to impress a girl at the skate park and managed to fall off his skateboard mid-trick, tearing his jeans in the crotch area in the process. Or when your roommate Aeri got tipsy at the club and who she thought was a very fine gentleman to flirt with was actually her ex boyfriend. The list goes on and on.

What about first hand embarrassment, though? You’re sure you experienced it before as well, but if anyone asked you, you’d tell them you don’t remember any embarrassing stories. If it’s because you just don’t want anyone knowing about the shame in your bones or if you really hated those experiences so much you chose to bury them and extract them out of your memory, you won’t tell. You just won’t let the shame haunt you for any longer than it has to, that’s for sure. 

So when you walk home from the hairdresser one afternoon and you’re met with your roommate Aeri looking at you with lips pressed together, yet the corners tugging upwards in what you assume (and fully know) is her trying to hold back an amused laugh, you admit that your suspicions were indeed correct when you saw yourself in the mirror at the salon and you’re going to have to live through another embarrassing moment. One that will take days and weeks to outlive as well, since your hair doesn’t grow back overnight– and when you look into the mirror again, you’re terrified.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, it’s just… you look… well, you know, it’s just…” she mumbles, before she finally breaks into a loud laugh, standing behind you and examining the state of your hair in the mirror of your entrance hall with you, hands coming up to play with your strands and hold them up and down, brushing your bangs out of your face and ruffling the top– trying everything possible to find a single good hairdo with the haircut you have going on right now. “Oh babygirl… what did the do to your beautiful hair…” she mourns, the tone of her voice still amused, but now also kind of considerate.

“I told her I only wanted a trim,” you say, voice weak in what you realize is you holding back your tears and suppressing a mental breakdown, “how the fuck am I supposed to show my face to the world tomorrow?” 

Your roommate sighs at you, spinning you around so you no longer can see the disaster on your head, a pout forming on her face as she lightly shoves you deeper into the apartment. “At a second glance, it’s really not that bad, you know–”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you cut her off, annoyed at her soft eyes.

“I don’t?” she looks at you, shocked irises hardening when she realizes you no longer need her sympathetic words. “Okay, thank god. Man, she fucked you uuup, leave a bad review like, right now. I’d cry myself to sleep if I got a haircut like that–”

“I take it back, I liked your lies better,” you roll your eyes at her, walking over to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. The mental breakdown is still right around the corner and you realize you have to do everything in your power to stop it, because you already have a fucked up haircut– you can’t afford to show up to class tomorrow with puffy eyes and stress-induced pimples as well. Gulping down the cold liquid, you decide to hop into the shower (and avoid looking in the mirror at all costs, which is kind of difficult, since there's three of them just on your way to the bathroom). 

Meeting the encouraging eyes of your roommate once you come out of the shower, hair tied up in a towel so you don't have to think about it any longer, Aeri's words reach your ears in the living room. “Come on, I’m sure we can manage to do something with this tomorrow morning,” she smiles, “at least you have a pretty face. You can pull off everything!”

And the truth is, even though Aeri is nice, she’s not always right. You’re met with the fact the next morning as you watch your reflection in the mirror before you both leave for your shared Film theory class, standing next to each other defeated; one breathtakingly beautiful and one looking like the main character from Chicken little. You'd be fine with it if it was only you who was aware of your disastrous image, you would be able to deal with the shame and insecurity silently– but that's not what happens as you’re only reminded by the fact that other people, sadly, do perceive you, against your biggest wishes, throughout the whole day.

You’re reminded by the fact that your haircut is fucked up when Ji Changmin, the guy you share an Animation class with, sees you in the corridor and does the yikes face at you and his friend Sunwoo hides his face from you as they turn the corner. You’re reminded by the fact again when you see Jisu, the ever-so-sweet girl that majors in Finance, the girl that’s friends with everyone in this school, look at you with a considerate look, patting your shoulder when she passes you by before you enter your Film theory classroom. 

And most importantly, you’re reminded by the fact when you finally sit down– at the very back of the classroom, which is both valid and understandable, considering your current state– and you’re met with a thud of a backpack to your left, a figure sitting down on the usually vacant spot. Clenching your jaw and looking up to see its owner, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that’s about to come, you meet eyes with a tall, sleek man, shirt tucked into his black jeans and a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair. Lee Donghyuck waves at you in greeting when he notices you there, running his hand through his neatly styled hair.

“Hi there,” he breathes out, “can’t believe I made it on time. My alarm didn’t go off and my roommate couldn’t be arsed to wake me, even though our morning lectures start at the same time, so I had to run and my usual seat is taken already… hope you don’t mind me sitting here– woah.”

And here it is again– the feeling of absolute humiliation as the man scans you up and down, eyes bearing into yours with an unreadable look on his face. Is this how he felt when he texted you to throw toilet paper through his bathroom window? Or was he immune to the shame? 

“Did you get a new haircut?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you in question.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, already annoyed with his antics– because frankly, you know what will come next. 

“That’s an interesting answer to a yes or no question,” he muses, chuckling to himself, “I’ll take it as a yes, though, but it seems like you’re not satisfied with the new look…”

“Woah. You should work with the FBI or something,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him and looking straight in front of you, praying for the class to start fast so you don’t have to interact with your neighbor any longer and listen to him make fun of you for your new look.

“Why? It doesn’t look bad at all,” he says, the tone of his voice fakely considerate, making you want to punch him in the gut, “It’s interesting. I like it. It shows off your eyes and your forehead more, since your bangs are way shorter now,” he says, putting emphasis on the fact that your bangs truly are half their original length– which wasn't your original plan at all– only riling you up more.

“Only thing left to add is that I have a massive forehead, isn’t it?” you ironically smile at him, and the male takes your word for it as his eyes focus on the exposed part of your skin, furrowed eyebrows and all, as he examines your features.

“Not massive, but it’s a little… like, I wouldn’t say–”

“Just don’t say anything, okay?” you sigh, cutting him off and folding your arms at your chest in a poor attempt at defending yourself.

“Geez, why are you so snappy? I was complimenting you, y'know,” he says, and if you were more stupid, you’d even believe him– the tone of his voice still sounds genuine, but that’s just the way your neighbor likes to deceive people, and you know that; you’ve seen it happen multiple times before. “It adds character.”

The comment makes you roll your eyes, all words taken off your tongue– you simply think there’s no use defending your atrocious haircut now (not that you tried defending it before, even you aren't that oblivious). Your gaze is focused anywhere but at your seatmate, counting down the minutes until the class starts and you're taken out of your misery for at least an hour and a half. Your Film theory professor is almost never late and now is the only day you’re content and happy about the fact, because it means you won’t have to listen to Lee Donghyuck for more than approximately 2 more minutes until the small, hunched over frame of your professor strides through the door. 

Still, you feel his burning gaze to the side of your face, and despite your best intentions, you snap your head towards him and bite at the annoying gemini.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you spit, scoffing at the male.

“Can I really?” he asks, and before you have a chance to disagree, his phone is shoved into your point of view and the shutter comes off, making you lounge after the man in a poor attempt at taking his phone away and deleting the first picture of your new hair ever taken. (Well, except for the one you took crying last night, with a peace sign and your tongue darted to the side against your mirror. You don’t need any more traces of your current haircut than that one.)

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi neigbor whatchu doin lee donghyuck (film theory class) – u have a car right

Squinting at the next text conversation with Lee Donghyuck, the first one since he asked you for toilet paper 3 weeks ago, you feel nothing more than pure confusion at the strange questions the man asks you in the middle of the night. It’s Friday evening and your roommate went out with a guy named Eric she met four weeks ago in the gym, and even though you were slightly concerned when she texted you to say she was staying over at his house for the first time, you only showed her support as you went to lay down with no other plans for your evening. Falling asleep to your midnight playlist playing in the background (thanking God for the smart feature that makes the music shut off after 30 minutes), it's completely understandable and predictable that the noise of an incoming text annoys you when you hear it only a few minutes after 2 in the morning. The fact that it’s your neighbor texting you, out of all people, only makes the fury in you bigger as you click your tongue and shoot him a quick text back.

you – what do u want

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – neighbor!!!!! lee donghyuck (film theory class) – you do have a car 

Staring at the text that just appeared on your screen, you sigh and decide to spill the truth, preparing for whatever request that’s about to come after you admit to the fact that you do, indeed, have a perfectly functioning vehicle parked behind the building.

you – yes 

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – perfect lee donghyuck (film theory class) – do u hav sm time on ur hands

you – im sleeping

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – veryfunny youre replying rn tho lee donghyuck (film theory class) – come on itsa simple request

Breaking your back just to decipher the words through the amount of typos Lee Donghyuck’s making, your annoyance only grows bigger. Has he always been a bad texter? You don’t remember him struggling as much when he was sitting on the toilet three weeks ago– his texts were absolutely clear and with 0 mistakes back then. Maybe he was in a more desperate situation back then, after all…

you – what do u want hyuck its late

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u drive me home

And here it goes– in the back of your mind, you somehow knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons why someone would ask if you owned a car, and judging by the fact that it was now 2 in the morning on a Friday night, your neighbor wasn’t trying to sell you a new vehicle just in case you didn't have one yourself. Getting a drive home would be the only logical request from someone asking if you owned a car– it would only be more logical if the person asking you was your friend, and not an acquaintance at best.

Staring at the screen of your phone, counting down from 10 to not snap at the ridiculous request, you watch as the device lights up with an incoming call. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who’s calling, and despite your best assumptions, you pick up with no more thought given, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to speak first.

“Y/N,” he says, voice breathless. 

“Lee Donghyuck.”

“Can you please drive me home?” he asks, tone of voice lazy and tired, something about the dragging of his words hinting you that there’s more to the request than you’re grasping right now.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, right off the bat, to clear out any confusion. 

There’s a short silence on the other side of the line, one that hints that you’re completely right in your assumptions, but you still want to hear it from the guilty man himself. “Maybe a little,” he admits, snickering, “I was over at Yangyang’s and then he kicked me out and I… my legs hurt too much to walk home.”

Sighing loudly at the man’s antics, you shake your head in disbelief and clear your throat. “I don’t see how that’s my problem?”

“Oh, come oonnn,” he drags out, “it’s not that far.”

“Yeah, so I don’t see how you can’t walk back, then?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the demanding tone in your neighbor’s voice. If it was anyone else, maybe, just maybe, you’d be on your way already. You never decline your friend’s requests for favors, since you know they’d do the same if you asked, but you don’t really see how Lee Donghyuck, a man you’re not even close to in the first place, could repay the favor. What on Earth was he thinking in the first place when he called you? Were you his last option? Is he out of his mind?

“Because my legs hurt, if you were paying attention, you’d know that I told you before–”

“I don’t really care,” you mutter, “this is not my problem, I’m ending the call now, goodbye!”

“Y/N!”

The tone of his voice is desperate. Laced in agony, even. Still, you don’t care as you cut off the line and close your laptop that's been your source of music during the late night, settling deeper into your sheets. This is not your circus, not your monkeys, and frankly, you don’t really care what happens to Lee Donghyuck on his way home from Yangyang’s house, no matter how drunk or high he is right now. The man has done nothing but annoy you in your short, 23 year old life, and you’re not going to change out of your pajamas just to drive a few miles to get your dumb neighbor back home.

You’re not going to lose your beauty sleep for this. No, not at all.

Still, your eyes only close when you see the light in Lee Donghyuck’s room go on and the shadow of his slouched figure safely hits his bedsheets, another smaller frame coming to close his door and shut the blinds off, turning the light back off. 

The next Monday, you find yourself sitting in your Film theory class alongside your roommate Aeri that’s currently snoozing in the middle of the lecture. You can’t really blame her, since she only got home from her romantic retreat (read as: hanging out at Eric Sohn’s house the whole weekend and having sex possibly on every surface of his little flat downtown) on Sunday evening, and you can only imagine that she didn’t have much sleep during her stay there. 

And the class was boring, to add another reason for your roommate's nap. It’s not like you weren’t interested in the theory behind every movie, like the topic itself wasn’t interesting– you quite enjoyed wondering about all the special details in each movie that complete the story and make the atmosphere pop just in the right way– but the professor currently standing at the very bottom of the auditorium is old enough to be there when the Lumiére brothers showed the first ever movie to the public back in the 19th century, and his age only matches with the monotonous style of his teaching. Which means that his voice is mellow, but close enough to a lullaby, and with the amount of issues you have when paying attention in general, the lack of focus caused by this only feeds your distraction during the lectures, resulting in you not really being the top of the class in this specific subject.

So when you hear the professor mutter something under his nose about a project in pairs you’ll have to submit until the end of the semester, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach, all alert. Suddenly, you’re 100% present, brain racking about all the possible solutions and ways you could go around this just so you could pass the subject this year. 

Because frankly speaking, at the moment, you’re failing the class. And if you don’t manage to get a good grade on this final project, you’re going to have to retake the class next year– and trust me, another year listening to the monotonous lectures won’t make you pass easier, since you can only imagine the boredom will only grow once you’re in this class the second year in a row and you'd already heard all of the lectures once before.

“What was that?” Aeri mumbles under her nose when she notices you staring at the front of the classroom with wide eyes, an expression close to one you'd wear after seeing a ghost (with the age of your professor, you might as well have). She often tells you you look like a deer in the headlights when you get shocked or stressed-out, and you can’t say that comment doesn’t make you insecure. Still, you can’t quite control it when you sigh and turn to your roommate with a distressed look on your face.

“We have a final assignment to do,” you mumble, “in pairs.”

“Amazing, we’re doing it together, then,” she yawns, stretching a little before slumping over the desk again, ready for round two of her nap. 

“Fuck no,” you quickly dart, looking at her with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean, no?” 

Sighing, watching as she opens her eyes and looks at you with an offended expression on her face, you shake your head in disapproval and lower your voice, careful to explain yourself. “Look, girl, I love you, you know that,” you assure, “but we are both failing this fucking class. And I can’t afford to do badly just because the both of us suck, because I am not retaking this atrocious class ever again, so I suggest that the both of us find someone with good grades to leech from and get this over with.”

Aeri squints at you, seemingly lost in thought– more so contemplating your master plan– before she leans back in her chair and cautiously looks around the room. “You have a point there.”

“See? It’s nothing personal,” you chuckle, seeing as your roommate nods to herself.

“Okay, I’ll flutter my eyelashes at Shotaro,” she turns to you, eyes bright with the newly made plan, “we’re both Japanese, so he’s not legally allowed to turn me down.”

Rolling your eyes at her comment, you only nod in approval to her idea. Shotaro was one of the best in this class, so you can imagine that working with him would satisfy your professor enough to let Aeri pass the class this year. The only thing left to do was find the culprit to your own plan– you needed to team up with someone good enough to at least make you get a D on your final. And since half of the class was just as good as you in this particular subject, there weren’t many candidates left.

Eyes scanning the crowd (thank god you chose to sit in the back again), your gaze lands on a particular man sitting a few rows under you, a little bit to your right. Helplessly searching through the flood of your classmates currently occupying the auditorium, you sigh to yourself in realization, already dreading what’s about to come when the class is dismissed and you hurriedly walk over to the only person that can help you now, before he escapes the university grounds and you’re going to have to shamefully text him or ring his doorbell this afternoon.

“Donghyuck! Wait!” you yell after him, legs taking you closer to the man in question, now standing still in the middle of the moving crowd, watching you in curiosity.

“What’s up, neighbor?” he asks with a lazy smile, the tug at his lips only making your blood boil and your insides tighten into a bundle of nerves. Everything about him was ticking you off, the slouch in his shoulders making you want to stand behind him and fix his bad posture and slap the back of his head so you no longer have to look at him standing like a hermit crab, the glint in his eyes making you want to curl your fingers into a fist and slam your hand against a wall. The seemingly strong emotions of annoyance run through your veins whenever you interact with Lee Donghyuck, it seems, but the senile voice of your professor keeps repeating itself somewhere in the back of your head throughout the whole interaction, and so you choose to take a deep breath in and out before you smile at the man and prepare your best speech– you can't afford to be picky with this any longer.

“Who are you doing the project with?” you ask innocently at first, trying to get some info out of him.

He offers you a suspicious look, but replies nonetheless. “I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, “I was thinking of chasing down Haknyeon, but you stopped me in my tracks…” he shakes his head at you, teasing. 

“Hmm, I see,” you mumble, more for the effect than for anything else, “well, what if we do it together?”

There aren’t many instances in which you could catch Lee Donghyuck completely silent. Now is one of them, though, as he watches you with wide, surprised eyes, furrowed brows and his plump lips slightly agape, breathing in a few times before he shakes his head as if to reset the system, snickering to himself. “Us two?”

“Yeah, why not?” you peep, shrugging.

“Look, respectfully,” Donghyuck starts, and you brace yourself for the impact, “your grades in this class aren’t as good as mine, and even though I’d love to do it with you, I don’t wanna be the one doing all the work and–”

“I’ll help!” you snap, maybe too urgently for your own liking. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power, I just really need your help with this,” you plea, looking at him with what you pray are your best puppy eyes, seeing as the man in front of you chuckles at the expression and averts his gaze from you for a heartbeat, signaling that you were most likely unsuccessful at the attempt.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he shrugs, shaking his head at you, even going as far as taking one step away from you, “see, if you hadn't declined my call on Friday, maybe I’d take this offer as a way to repay the favor, but you know…”

“I threw you toilet paper before, Donghyuck, you can’t be shitting me right now–” you feel your blood boil at the note, the ever so familiar annoyance seeping back into your bones.

“That was nothing–”

“You seemed pretty desperate back then.”

“That was the past, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking another step away from you, somehow overthrowing your annoyance with pure, embarrassing desperation as you chase after him and stop him with a swift motion of your hand, catching him by his wrist. He stares at you with a shiteating grin on his face, one he always uses to get a reaction from you, and somehow, you know this is all a game for him, a stupid tug of war, but you can’t help it– you are in a desperate situation. So if you need to say please to the man and humiliate yourself in front of him just to pass this class, then so be it.

“Please, Hyuck? Just this once, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Literally, say anything, I’m gonna do it, I just really need to pass this class,” you mumble, a pout forming at your lips as you clasp your hands together– much like he did back when you two communicated through the window of his bathroom– and you swear you can see the gears in his brain turning when he calculates his next move and tells you his answer.

“Anything?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, hoping that Lee Donghyuck still has some dignity in him and wouldn’t ask for anything that would make you uncomfortable. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s not a dick, after all.

“Okay, then,” he nods, tone of voice airy, underlined with laughter, “be my personal driver for the entirety of the project, then. I’ll do it if you drive me places,” he grins, and that’s when your composure falls.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then, say goodbye to the grade!”

Putting your arm around the passenger’s seat headrest, twisting your whole body as you look back and reverse the car into the parking spot in front of the mall, you see the figure next to you still in its place, eyes alert and staring at you. “If you’re so terrified of me driving, why did you want me to do this in the first place?” you sigh, finally turning back to the front and turning the engine off once you're standing straight between the lines, satisfied with your job.

“That’s- that’s not it,” he clears his throat and gulps nervously, shaking his head. “Anyways, let’s go,” Donghyuck says, slapping his thighs like parents do when it’s time to leave a family gathering, grinning at you widely as he waits for you to get out of the vehicle.

“What do you mean, let’s go? I drove you here, I can go now,” you glare, not satisfied with the way your Wednesday afternoon was going. You only agreed to the deal on Monday, and Donghyuck already made you drive him home after class twice and also asked you to drive him to the school this morning. Having him constantly leeching around you and making you drive him places wasn’t exactly fun, since he always asked weird questions and made fun of your bored face at every red light, so you really, desperately, needed him to be gone already so you could head home and scream into your pillow to unwind the nerves. 

“Well, how am I supposed to get back when I’m done shopping?” he innocently asks, pouting at you. “My hands are gonna be full with bags and you’re gonna have to come pick me up, because that’s the deal, and I can’t afford to wait with my hands full until you get back here, so you might as well stay and come with me, so it’s convenient.”

“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” you mumble, but comply with his orders nonetheless. “Why don’t you get a car? Or take a bus back?”

“Buses smell and I don’t have a license,” he mutters, “besides, I have you now to be my personal taxi driver, so I don't need a car,” he shrugs, walking alongside you to the mall. 

His confession startles you, makes you halt in your step as the boy looks at you with defeated eyes, already knowing what’s next. This scenario has happened to him multiple times before– he’s best friends with Huang Renjun and Liu Yangyang, he’s in for a teasing at every single action of his that goes just slightly wrong– but to hear it from you will surely feel more humbling to the man. Closing his eyes as if to not see the grin overtaking your features, he sighs. “What?”

“You don’t have a license?” you tease, snickering. “For real?”

“No.”

“Why? You failed the test?” you ask again, catching up to the male and falling in with his quick pace, enjoying the fact that you now have the upper hand on him for once.

“Never really tried getting it in the first place,” he mumbles, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he shamefully ducks his head, “it seems scary,” he adds, making you snort out at his confession.

“Fucking hell dude,” you laugh out now, swatting his shoulder in a teasing manner, “that’s so embarrassing, it’s not even really that difficult in the first place–”

“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” he cuts you off, tone of voice laced with frustration as he realizes you are a bit too amused at him admitting to one of his fears, “is it me not having a license or you driving me around because you're failing a class… Hm?” he asks, locking eyes with you, lips pressed shut into a straight line, and suddenly, your composures exchange. He won. Again.

“Anyways, let’s get going!” he smiles, dismissing the previous discussion as he tugs you by your hand into one of the stores right in the middle of the mall.

You should’ve already predicted that shopping with Lee Donghyuck would be exhausting. Not only did he demand to know your opinion on every single thing he tried on, he also wanted you to pick up something for him to try– as if driving him here wasn’t too much work for you as it was. All you wanted to do was walk back to your car and get away from him as soon as possible, but with the way he teasingly poked your sides every time you weren’t paying attention and turned to your phone to entertain yourself with some mindless scrolling on social media, you weren’t able to escape even mentally, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Why don’t you try something on?” 

“I’m not in the mood,” you glare, walking out of the last store in the whole entire mall, the sky behind the glass doors already dark from how late it’s gotten. You’re pretty sure it’s gonna close soon, but checking the time on your phone, you’re relieved to learn that you still have enough time to get boba from the stand at the entrance of the mall. You deserve a little treat after involuntarily hanging out with Lee Donghyuck the whole day, after all. Call it your girl dinner, or something.

“Taro milk tea with coconut jelly, please,” you smile at the tired barista behind the counter, noticing the way Donghyuck stands next to you and looks at the menu. You expect him to order a drink for himself as well, and surely, he doesn’t disappoint as he smiles at the girl, the tone of his voice sweet and considerate– so far away from the way he speaks to you on a daily basis– as he asks for his own drink.

“Will you pay together or separately?” she asks.

“Separate–”

“Together,” your companion cuts you off, grinning at you when you glare at the man, sighing at his antics.

“Come on, I already drive you everywhere, do you think gas is cheap? Now you want me to pay for your boba as well?” you whine, reaching for your wallet as you frown at the male, his confused eyes bearing into yours when he slightly nudges you from his way, offering the girl behind the counter his card instead. The action shuts you up, making the gears in your brain turn faster as you watch him in the action, and it doesn't fully register yet, but you're left feeling a bit taken aback and sheepish when the cashier hands him the receipt.

“I was gonna buy it for you as a thank you for the nice day, but now you’re making me look like I felt pressured to,” he sighs, shaking his head at your little tantrum. His actions still don’t register in your brain, though, his words resonating all the way through your ears to your Wernicke’s area and right back, hanging everywhere in the air of the mall, shock making your body still. Then, it hits you.

“Ah,” you gasp, feeling the tips of your ears burning with shame at the fact that you managed to ruin his nice gesture, your eyes scanning the space in a poor attempt to not look at him or the cashier still watching your exchange.

“Get your drink and let’s go,” he nudges you instead, rolling his eyes for good measure as he walks out of the mall, nearing your car in the parking lot.

“Look at this, look! Isn’t it funny?” Donghyuck hovers over you with his phone in his hand, giggling to himself as he tries to make you look at the screen. You don’t really know why he’s trying to get a laugh out of you, honestly, but he’s currently doing everything but that as you’re sat in his living room, legs plopped up onto the sofa and crossed in front of you, waiting patiently– but also kind of boiling on the inside out of frustration– for him to pay attention to you.

“Hyuck, I didn’t come here to watch Tiktoks with you,” you say, eyes sharp, tone of your voice cutting like razors– efficiently making him look up from his screen and meet your gaze with an amused grin, “I’m not really sure if you forgot, but I came to discuss the project,” you mutter, sighing.

“Jeez,” you see him roll his eyes, the energy around him still not shifting as he maintains his casual and unfocused composure, but you know that on the inside, he's enjoying the view– your angry face seems to be his most favorite thing to stare at recently, “didn’t know you lack a sense of humor.”

“What?” you look at him, confused, quite frankly, before you shake your head in disbelief at the comment. “You know what, just put the phone away for 5 seconds and finally talk to me about the project, smart boy, or else I’m not wasting my time here any longer and I’m leaving.”

“You’re acting as if you’re the one putting in work,” he mumbles, snickering.

“I will be putting in work when you tell me what to do!”

At your sentence, Donghyuck finally puts his phone back at the coffee table and shifts a little in his seat, facing you and scratching the back of his head, seemingly lost in thought. You let him, convinced that if you speak up and cut off his train of thought, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to get back to it again, waiting for him to be done with his brain weaving so you can pick up on them and ride them out, seeming at least decently smart (or not completely stupid). When he finally speaks up, he licks his lips and shrugs.

“We just gotta pick a theme and do our best portraying it with no words in a 3 minute clip, right?” he asks you in reassurance, as if you were the most reliable source of information when it comes to this class and its assignments.

“Yeah,” still, you agree.

“Well, then we just gotta pick a theme and the rest will be easy,” he nods to himself, reaching back for his phone, which you swiftly take from his hold and hide behind your body. 

“Hey–”

“We’re not done talking about this! I’m not letting you use your phone, because you’re just gonna scroll on Tiktok instead of thinking about this,” you squint at him, twisting and turning in your seat as his hands try to sneak around your sitting figure and take the device out of your grasp. 

He seems determined as his arm lands on your elbow, a victorious grin smoothly swiped off his face when you sit on his phone and flash him a wide grin. “I’ll give it back when we have the theme down!”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Donghyuck mumbles, and you roll your eyes at him, pointing a finger to his shoulder.

“That’s not what an invasion of privacy means, but whatever floats your boat…” you mumble, watching him sit back in his seat, defeated as his shoulders slouch and his gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. You’re not sure what’s so interesting about the white paint, but at least there’s not the noise of his phone filling your ears right now– you’re more than okay with silence, since you don't get to hear it often when Donghyuck is present. You would like it better if he spoke up and talked to you about the assignment, but if you had to choose between him being annoying and him being quiet, you think everyone knows which one of the two you’d prefer.

“So?” you test the waters after a while, seeing if your project partner decides to finally comply with your request and discuss the important matters.

“So? Do you got any ideas?” he teases, watching you with challenging eyes.

Clearing your throat, caught off guard at the request– you assumed he’d tell you exactly what to do and you just have to do it and follow his lead, essentially not putting in much effort and still being sure of passing the class– but it seems like Lee Donghyuck won’t let you off that easily. You should've expected it. Being difficult is his favorite hobby, after all.

“Well, you’re the smart one here, so…” you shrug, trying the method that always works on men– and that is praising them.

“So you’re saying you’re stupid?”

“If it works in my favor during this conversation, then sure,” you nod, smiling at him in irony. Hyuck gives you a defeated sigh, shaking his head at you before he clicks his tongue at you and finally gives in.

“Okay, so, I was thinking we should pick a theme that fits the current social struggles, but after hearing this, I don't think feminism is our best choice,” he mutters.

“Like you’d know anything about feminism–”

“What do you have me for?” Donghyuck sharply glares at you, clicking his tongue at you in pure offense. “I am a fan of Little women, I'll have you know, of course I’m a feminist.”

“Well, you must be a fake fan, since everything about this deal is just me majorly girlbossing,” you point out, trying really hard to prove your point.

“Are you even being serious right now–”

“Anyways,” you cut him off, “what were you thinking?”

The man sighs and shakes his head at you in disbelief, but still speaks up again nonetheless. “I was thinking, well, maybe we could pick something that would really play into the old man’s feelings, you know, so we get him all sentimental and moved to tears…” he starts off, tone of voice now completely serious, making him sound kind of smart– startling you in the process, “that leaves us with a few possible options. We could do something with the 18 hundreds, or… fishing? I heard he’s into fishing. Or we could do something more abstract and shoot something about youth, since he’s very old and this could get him nostalgic. Or!” he suddenly perks up in his seat, eyes wide and a disturbing grin sitting at his lips, “we could include nudity! He’s a man, after all… wanna shoot porn? We don’t need words for porn.”

In absolute disbelief, you stare at the man with eyes wide open, blinking a few times and taking a few seconds to yourself to process the monologue you just listened to. You knew he was absolutely insufferable, but you didn’t know he was this much of a dumb freak. 

Taking your silence for disgust, Donghyuck just nods to himself and purses his lips.

“Youth it is, then… I mean, nudity would be difficult to present in front of the class for sure–” he admits, pouting.

“Yeah, like that’s the only problem with that idea…”

Afternoon classes aren’t your favorite ones of the week and although you absolutely despise waking up early and having to commute to university while you’re still half-asleep and absolutely irritated, there’s nothing that infuriates you more than knowing you could be done with the day already, sitting at home and watching your favorite TV show, only if it wasn’t for the responsibility of having to stay at campus and sit through another hour and a half lecture on a Thursday afternoon, way too late for your brain to be working in those hours.

This is one of the only classes you don’t share with your roommate Aeri– which makes the lecture that more excruciating, since you don’t have anyone with you that you could gossip with about your classmates or friends from back home when it gets too boring and you can't bear sitting in silence and forcing yourself to focus anymore– but there is one person from your circle that you do share this class with, and yes, you already guessed it; it’s Lee Donghyuck.

You don’t know when you’ve gotten so close to the point where he sits in the vacant seat right next to you almost immediately, followed by his friend Ju Haknyeon who you’ve never even spoken to before, but he still does so nonetheless, every Thursday, just so he could annoy you with his only half-funny remarks to every other sentence that comes out of your Animation class professor’s mouth. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” you hear Haknyeon ask the devil sitting on your left, and trust me, you don’t really like listening to other people’s conversations (that’s a lie, you live for gossip. You just wish you knew the least amount of information about Lee Donghyuck as possible, because sometimes you learn fun facts you wish never joined your brain), but you can’t really help it this time, can you? Haknyeon doesn’t know what whispering is, and you’re convinced Donghyuck would love everyone to hear him talk and give him attention anyway. 

“Not really sure,” Donghyuck replies, “Renjun bailed on me, said he’s going to the shelter with his girlfriend again, so I was thinking, right? You know, I’d looove to go on a road trip, and it’s crazy, you know, because–”

The words coming out of his mouth instantly make you alert, snapping your head around to make eye contact with the man that’s already staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’re listening to them talk. “Lee Donghyuck, I am not going on a road trip with you–”

“See, Y/N here is my personal driver for the semester, so she can’t really say no–” Donghyuck continues, enjoying the way your face distorts into a pained scowl, your hand coming up into your hair to tug at the roots in frustration.

“If you make me do this, I’m going to open your door while we’re going 120km/h on a crowded highway and throw you out so you die under the wheels of someone else and I don't face the consequences,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, your voice shushed due to you still not wanting to be heard by the whole classroom, but still loud enough for both of the boys to chuckle.

“Come on, I bet you’d have fun. I have the best playlists for road trips, you know,” Hyuck teases, poking you with the tip of his pen, to which you click your tongue and move a bit further away from the male. 

“The last time I drove you somewhere that was more than a 10 minute drive, you had Céline Dion on loop, so I don’t know just how believable this claim is.”

“That’s disrespectful to the legend Céline Dion is, dear Y/N, and I’d take it back before her ghost comes to haunt you at night.”

“Is she even dead in the first place?” you squint at him, at disbelief of his words.

“She’s not,” Haknyeon chimes in from the side, shaking his head at the both of you before he chuckles, “you two argue like a married couple.”

“I would rather die than to marry him–”

“See, Hak, Y/N just hasn’t realized she’s in love with me yet,” Hyuck adds, clicking his tongue at his seatmate, “but she’s gonna realize it somewhere during our 5 hour long road trip, I’m sure. Just wait, it’s gonna happen soon.”

The class gets dismissed somewhere in the middle of the argument, and as you’re gathering your things to go, you hear the two of them talk among themselves, not really including you in their conversation anymore (which you’re glad for, frankly). 

“Are you going home after class?” Haknyeon asks.

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disapproval, and there it is– the shit-eating grin appears on his face when he initiates eye contact with you and snickers, “Y/N and I are actually getting fried chicken at this place downtown, since I got coupons– well, Renjun got coupons for free chicken from his uncle last week, but he doesn’t like chicken that much, so I stole them from him–”

“Huh?” you scowl at him, wondering if you heard right. “I’m not getting chicken with you.”

“Of course you are,” Hyuck announces, “the coupons expire tomorrow, so we gotta do it today. I know you’re not busy, come on.”

“I’d rather choke than to spend any more time with you than I already have today, Donghyuck. Go with Haknyeon,” you say, pointing to the clueless senior staring at the both of you in wonder.

“Yeah, go with me, man,” he shakes his head, “I like chicken.”

“Unfortunately, this offer only applies to people that have a working car that could drive me there, so in case you wanna get your shiny BMW fixed in the next 24 hours, I can save the coupons for you,” Hyuck chimes, smiling innocently at his friend.

“What are you even talking about?” you mutter, tone of voice pained.

“Look, do you wanna get out of the road trip on Saturday, or not?” he stares at you, his gaze flaming as you sigh more for him to hear than to get out your frustration– you learned long ago that it does nothing to calm you down, worse, it makes you even more infuriated.

“Woah, Donghyuck!” you exclaim, fake excitement written all over your features. “Chicken actually sounds so good right now!”

That’s how you appear in one of the fried chicken places downtown, your car parked in their tiny parking lot, with Donghyuck excitedly skipping towards the restaurant with the bunch of coupons in his hands. You don’t really know why he insists on spending time with you– he could get a bus here or drive with one of his other friends that own a car, and you’re certain you are not the only one on his list– so the whole interaction makes you slightly confused. Still, you enjoy the free meal– like any other broke college student would– and when Donghyuck eats, his mouth is usually shut, so you don’t find that many negatives in this whole thing, after all.

“What are you thinking of doing for the project, by the way?” you ask, wiping your greasy fingers on one of the napkins Hyuck had offered to you just a few seconds prior after noticing your dismay at the state of your hands. You don’t like it when you get dirty with food, but you’d rather not eat at all than to eat fried chicken with a fork, so you guess this is the price you have to pay.

“You keep talking about the project,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”

“What do you mean, you have it covered? This is supposed to be teamwork. Just because I drive you around, it doesn’t mean I won’t put my hand in– you’ll complain too much if I don’t,” you mutter after you swallow, rolling your eyes at him. He keeps saying the same thing each time you ask him– you’re suspecting that he has zero idea at all, and he’s just bluffing to make you feel more comfortable. Hell, you might even fail while working with Donghyuck and your whole plan is going to be ruined, for all you know.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning, “we got the theme, so half the work is already done. We’ll just have to take one day to shoot some scenes on a field or something, and then I can edit it and put some sad music over it, and we’re sold. Trust me, I am a straight A student, I know what I'm doing.”

“You are not a straight A student, Lee Donghyuck,” you glare at him, not believing a single word that's just came out of his mouth.

“Okay well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coca-cola that he got for free with the order, “maybe I’m not. But you can count on me with this, hon.”

Sighing to yourself, you shake your head at him. “Don’t ever call me that ever again.”

“Hyuck,” you call for the male, nestling a little in your seat and scratching the back of your neck in frustration.

“Hm?”

“You said we were going to work on the project today, am I correct?” you ask, watching as the male walks up to you from the kitchen area of the room, a bowl full of popcorn in his hand as he plops on the sofa next to you (on the only area that allows you to lay down comfortably and still face the TV, also known as the spot you’ve already laid on, making the two of you almost uncomfortably close in the small space), a bottle of coke situated under his right shoulder.

“Correct,” he nods, reaching for the TV remote he spent approximately 15 minutes searching for in between the cushions of the sofa when you arrived, screaming at his poor roommate for losing it again as the shorter boy just grimaced at you and escaped the flat to hang out with someone you heard him call RJ! y/n.

Humming to yourself, you nod. “Okay, then… why the living fuck are we watching Hunger games right now?” you ask, tone of voice laced in frustration.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply to you for a while as he fumbles with the TV remote (and frankly, you don’t really know why he’s so focused, it doesn’t take much to just press play), but when he looks back at you and sees your gaze impatiently glued to his forehead, he shrugs. “We gotta find some inspiration first, you know,” he innocently states, “Hunger games is a movie about youth if I’ve ever seen one.”

“We’ve both already seen Hunger games, Hyuck,” you whine, but take a hand-full of popcorn out of the bowl that’s currently sitting in his lap. 

“How do you know that I have seen it already?”

“You just said so, you dumb fuck,” you mutter as you roll your eyes, watching the opening credits start. You can do nothing else than settle deeper into the sofa and watch the painfully long movie with your annoying neighbor now, and you despise the fact.

Well, you could do something else. There are many things, to be exact– you could either protest so much that Donghyuck finally gives in and turns the movie off, focusing his efforts into actually working on your project. If that doesn’t work, you can fight him for the remote, but you can’t really know if that wouldn’t make him pettily give you the silent treatment, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d like to be doing right now. Or you could just give up– seeing that you’re not gonna get much work done today– and stand up and go home. It’s not like you live that far away anyways… 

But still, you stay and watch the movie with him. You’ve seen it at least three times already, having watched it recently with Aeri when the movie had its second wave of fame on Tiktok, so you’re pretty sure that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to recite the script alongside the actors, word-for-word, 100% correct and exact, right on time. You stay and watch Hunger games with Lee Donghyuck– why exactly, you still don’t know– and you find yourself enjoying the experience. It’s not as boring when you hear your neighbor annoyingly comment on each and every little thing that happens in the movie, his nasal voice cracking jokes and jumping into the conversations as if he was a part of the cinematic universe. Somewhere along the way, you join in with him, laughing and giggling when your roleplay gets too silly, and before you know it, the movie is about to end and you’re finally going to be free to work on the project with him.

Donghyuck gets unusually quiet towards the last part of the movie. You turn your head to him, ready to crack jokes at the tears you’re expecting to see in his eyes because of the emotional outro– Katnis and Peeta’s berry scene got you the first and the second time you watched the movie, the third time not so much, since Aeri kept pausing the movie for pee breaks, ruining the full effect– only to witness the man’s head falling to your shoulder the exact second you try to lock your gaze with him; your neighbor having passed out somewhere in the middle of the movie. You foolishly jump just the slightest bit at the contact, opening your mouth to say something to him that could wake him up, your instincts telling you to move away from the already uncomfortable closeness of your bodies and give yourself more space.

But as your lips part and you’re about to protest, you notice his own lips apart in a small pout, his cheeks appearing softer now that one of them is smashed against your shoulder, his long eyelashes fanning over the bones of his cheeks. The blue hue of the TV paints his cheeks rosier in the dim light, making you notice the moles on his face for the first time– leading you to count them and mentally create constellations between them as your gaze focuses from all the different places of his face to another. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shut your mouth and awkwardly make yourself look away from your annoying neighbor, cracking the knuckles of your hands that have been resting in your lap; but when the credits of the movie roll and you have nowhere else to focus your gaze on, you find yourself scanning the man up and down again, orbs catching every detail of his suddenly so pure being.

He is wearing gray sweatpants, the fabric hanging low on his waist, a plain black tee adorning his upper figure. He doesn’t often look this casual when he comes to class, opting to wear jeans or pants more formal, so you foolishly admire the cozy fit he has going on, not quite used to seeing Donghyuck looking this homey. His clasped hands resting in his lap catch your attention next, the soft skin adorning his slender fingers looking way too inviting right now as you subconsciously want to glaze your fingertips against the surface of his palm, just to see if your suspicions are right and his skin is just as gentle as it seems to be to the eye, and you almost do it– for scientific reasons, of course– before you catch yourself and almost mentally slap yourself for being so foolish.

What the hell is going on with you right now? You should wake him up now– the movie is already over, there’s no use in you staying over any longer if he’s asleep and won’t work on the project with you anymore– but you find yourself freezing each time your eyes focus on the creature sleeping against your shoulder, so soft and comfortable it makes your insides squeeze in warmth. It’s a strange sensation, and even a stranger one to feel for a person that annoys you the most in this world, and you can't bring yourself to do anything else than to overthink the simple fact. 

He can sleep for a few more minutes. You don’t mind. He must be tired, you think– he deserves 10 more minutes, maybe even 15– you won’t disturb him. The silence is strangely comforting, after all.

He can sleep for a few more minutes, you think– but the exact moment those thoughts roam around your head again, the front door to Donghyuck’s apartment opens and his roommate stands still in the doorframe of his living room, gazing at you with suspicion in his gaze. You quickly jump away from your project partner when eye contact with Huang Renjun is made, feeling the tips of your ears heating up in shame as you scatter to your feet and scramble for your things. You feel like you were just caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you can’t bear the thought any longer. You need to get out.

A dissatisfied noise leaves Hyuck’s mouth as he wakes up to the impact of your movement, squinted eyes watching you as Renjun just laughs at your antics, shaking his head as if to tell you that he knows something you don’t. You don’t wanna hear it.

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with sleep. 

“Home,” you snap, running your hand through your hair as you move through the door frame that separates the living room from their entrance hall. “We can’t work on the project if you’re asleep, so I might as well just go and not waste my time here any longer!” you offer him, making sure to save your face by putting just enough pretended frustration into the comment as you put on your shoes and don't look back at him– however inviting the mental image of him seems in your brain– before you shut the door after yourself and leave.

dongfuck – drive me to mcdonalds

you – well hello to you too you – no.

dongfuck – >:( dongfuck – please

you – its 2am dude

dongfuck – your point..?

Sighing, scrambling for your things as quietly as possible to not wake up your sleep deprived flatmate, you get dressed in comfortable sweatpants, throwing a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly air. The walk down the stairs doesn’t take you more than a few minutes before you’re standing in the parking lot of your apartment complex, already seeing Donghyuck’s figure leaning on the side of your car, almost looking like he owns it– he does act like it lately, to be fair. 

“I knew you’d come,” he snickers as you roll your eyes at him, pressing the button on your car key to unlock the doors, watching as the man swiftly opens the driver’s side for you and then jogs towards the passenger’s side to get in, an excited stride in his step.

“I’m only here because I haven’t eaten dinner and chicken nuggets sound absolutely amazing right now,” you mutter, “don’t get too ahead of yourself. None of this is for you,” you grin, fastening your seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror just the slightest before turning on the engine and driving off the parking lot.

Donghyuck only shakes his head at you, a bright grin playing with his features. “Of course,” he hums, “wouldn’t want me to think that you actually want to hang out for once.”

“Of course,” you nod, “because that would be a lie. My goal is chicken nuggets, nothing else. And if I manage to get them out of you for free, that’s even better.”

“Who said I’m paying?”

“The gas station clerk did when I last went to get gas, actually! He told me I’m using twice as much gas lately because I’m driving a certain dumbass around, and I’m paying for all of the gas myself, can you believe it?” you shake your head, teasing him as you turn right on the main road, already seeing the McDonald’s in the distance. 

“That’s a strange way to talk to a customer,” Donghyuck squints his eyes at you, watching as you slow down when getting into the food chain’s parking lot, ready to drive up to the drive-through window and order your late night snacks.

“At least he’s looking out for me,” you shrug, teasing the male. “I better order a hefty meal, since you’re paying and all…” you mumble, looking over the poster to your left, tapping your chin, trying to look lost in thought. 

Hearing the man next to you scoff– already satisfied with how frustrated you’ve managed to make him– you pretend to look over the most expensive parts of the menu. “I’m starting to regret my decision,” Donghyuck adds, but the tone in his voice is light.

After a few more minutes of picking out your menu, you both order your meals and wait for them at the window. It doesn’t take long, since you’re the only ones in the whole place, and before you know it, Donghyuck is pressing his card into your palm, nudging you to pay for both of your meals. The gesture should be expected– you pretty much plastered him into doing this with how much you teased and complained– but it still shocks you when he does it with no other annoyed comments, watching as you offer it to the cashier and smile at him in thanks, taking the bags of food and driving off into the very back of the whole parking lot, turning the engine off and settling into the dark.

You tug your feet up to your seat, sitting crossed-legged in the small space as you face your companion, watching as he offers you the bag of food and digs into his own fries as well, scanning you from the corner of his eye. Now is the time you finally get to admire his attire for the first time the whole night– you never knew you had a thing for guys in sweatpants and oversized jackets, but the way your breathing almost catches in your throat at the sight of Donghyuck dressed so cozily again should be enough of a warning for you to the future. Forcefully taking your eyes off the male next to you, because you’d rather not think about the way you find yourself eyeing him lately, you eat your chicken nuggets– the ones you’ve dreamed of the whole night– and listen to the sound of your neighbor chewing on his burger. 

Feeling his eyes on you, you glare at him. “What are you staring at?”

“No take a picture, it will last longer this time?” 

“I learned my lesson from the last time,” you laugh, reminded of one of the first interactions you had with the male. “I hope you deleted the pictures, by the way.”

“No, I stare at them every night before I go to sleep,” he says, “so I’ll dream of you,” he sing-songs, laughing at the way your face distorts in discomfort at his words.

“Ah, so annoying,” you roll your eyes at him, but can’t battle the way your heart jumps a little at the sound of a laugh escaping his throat. Your eyes automatically trace his movements, noticing the way the far standing lamp post illuminates his face in just the right way, casting orange shadows over his features, making his eyes glimmer when they catch yours. Clearing your throat after being caught staring at him, you avert your gaze and finish the last of your fries, noticing the male done with his meal as well. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“We go home, what else?” you laugh, shaking your head at his question.

“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” he whines, and you already know what’s coming– pursuing, weird ideas, absurd arguments just to make you stay longer. And you’re immune to them on most days, but it’s too late in the night, so you have to cut yourself some slack. So what if you don’t want to come back yet either? It’s not a crime to want to spend some time with Lee Donghyuck.

“What a shame,” still, you tease, waiting for him to come up with a bright idea that you could use as an excuse to stay out longer.

“Oh come on,” Donghyuck mutters, “you always ruin the fun. Teach me how to drive, what do you say?”

Shocked at his preposition, you turn to him again, wide eyes and mouth agape. “What? Absolutely not.”

“Why? The parking lot’s empty. I can’t possibly be that bad that I crash your car into nothing. Come on!” he pleads, going even as far as pouting at you– not really knowing that the expression has you shamefully stare at his lips for a split second, insides heating up– and realistically, you should have warning signs blinking at you from everywhere in your brain, an alarm going off to tell you that this is not a good idea at all, but you’re too stunned to come up with another plan for the rest of your evening, and, well, you may be getting a little weak for the annoying gemini. He's right, though– what could possibly go wrong? 

So you only sigh in response, opening the door and getting out of your seat, watching as Donghyuck excitedly mirrors your motions and jogs to the driver’s seat, ready to possibly ruin your evening and your car at the same time. When you’re back safe inside of the car, you quickly fasten your seatbelt, a sign of your sense of self preservation still working well, watching Donghyuck move your seat further back so he can comfortably reach the pedals. His focused face is in your full view as he adjusts all the mirrors possible, and only then is when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek– in either nerves or concentration, you can’t really tell right now– and the sight makes you halt him in his motions before he manages to start the engine.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, watching as he turns to you with wide eyes, shaking his head in disagreement.

“No,” he peeps, laughing to himself, “Yangyang declined me the last time I asked.”

“Yeah, because he has a working brain,” you whisper under your breath, still in disbelief of what you allowed to happen, “so… can you reach the pedals?”

“I can.”

“And you see the whole back window in this mirror, right?” you ask, pointing to the rearview mirror, watching as Donghyuck nods.

“Positive.”

“Great. So… start the engine now, I guess?” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you see him nod and reach for the keys, turning them. The car instantly comes alive right in front of him all while Hyuck seems  absolutely clueless, looking at you with big, adorable eyes, and you take it as your cue to instruct him on his next moves.

“Now press the clutch– the far left pedal– and move the gear stick into the first gear,” you say, watching as the boy slowly does as you say, reaching for the device and moving it to the desired place. “Good. Now, keep pressing the clutch and slowly start pressing the accelerator– the far right pedal– while also slowly letting go of the clutch until you get to the point where the car starts moving on itself. That’s when you don’t let go of the clutch, but keep it at that same exact spot, and put a bit more acceleration until the wheels spin like, once or twice. Only then can you keep your leg off the clutch.” 

“You’re kinda hot when you tell me what to do,” Hyuck mumbles, but the flirting doesn’t quite come through when his face is focused at the road and his composure seems shaken, too stressed out to actually mean the words coming out of his mouth.

“Shut up and do what I said,” you snarl, seeing as the man nods and tries moving with the car. It takes him some time, but it seems that he is a natural– the car moves without the engine dying, and suddenly, you find yourself cheering him on. “Good! Good! You’re moving!”

“Oh. My. God.” 

“Don’t panic!”

“I’m not panicking!” Hyuck hums, nodding to himself as he turns the wheel and makes a circle around the parking lot, grinning to himself with confidence. The car moves painfully slowly, and you, despite your best interest, find yourself enjoying the view– although you should probably be more worried about your own safety than you currently are. That's when you decide to challenge the male further.

“Okay, then we can shift into the second gear, it’s gonna go a little smoother,” you muse, seeing as the male nods.

His eyes stay focused on the road, though, so you take it as your cue to instruct him again. “Press on the clutch then, and move the gear stick straight down.”

“Mhm,” he hums, and presses on the clutch, but the struggle comes next as his hand flies all over the car, not quite used to the placement of the gear stick yet. Stressed, eyes glued to the road in front of him to not run into any possible obstacles in your way, he refuses to look away for even a second, and the whole sight makes your heart race in anxious agony as you reach for his hand and grip it, guiding him towards the stick and placing his palm on top of the device.

Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen up as you guide his movements further and do it for him, just to make sure the stick really gets to its designated place and doesn't get stuck in neutral, which would make the engine die with the next press of the accelerator. His skin is soft under your touch, just like you imagined it to be, and you find yourself growing hotter the more your skin is in contact with his, the touch so innocent yet still sending you to overdrive.

“Now let go of the clutch,” you order, eyes glued to the side of Donghyuck’s head as he nods, listening to everything you say. The car now goes more smoothly and you watch him take another lap around the parking lot before you realize your hand is still gripping his on the gear stick, the information making you jump slightly in your place, clearing your throat in the awkward, tense atmosphere you managed to create for yourself.

“Okay,” you announce, “the trial is over, it’s time to press the brake– the middle pedal, if you haven't figured that out so far– and get out of my place,” you say, hoping the tone of your voice sounds as light as usual. 

The car comes to a strong halt, since Hyuck doesn’t really know how fast the brakes react yet, and if you weren’t buckled in, it’s certain that you’d go flying in your seat and smash your head against the dashboard. Breathing out when the car stills, you finally feel yourself relax, having been alert this whole time, as you squeeze Donghyuck’s hand for the last time, amidst selfishly, before you let go of it and turn towards the door, opening it and thanking the chilly air of the night for slapping you to your face. You really needed that wake up call.

Do you really need to drive a fucking manual? 

hyuck – can you drive me to yangyangs at 8

Staring at the text message on your phone, sighing to yourself at the weird discomfort in your stomach when it appears and registers in your brain, the sound catches attention of your roommate Aeri currently getting ready on the floor of your room, pressed almost uncomfortably close to the mirror. She should really wear the glasses she was prescribed.

“Donghyuck again?” she asks, staring at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she asks the crucial question.

“How’d you know?” you roll your eyes in irony, walking over to your closet and picking out your tonight’s outfit.

“Well,” she shrugs, “one, he’s like, the only person that ever texts you except for me, and two, you had that disgustingly doe eyed look on your face.”

“I so did not–”

“You so did,” she notes, putting another coat of mascara onto her long eyelashes.

“You know what? I regret telling you about this,” you mourn, scrambling for your things around your room and putting them into your bag, practically already ready to leave the apartment alongside your roommate slash best friend. When you came home last week after the McDonald’s run at 4 in the morning, you decided that sleep really wasn’t worth it anymore– as if you could fall asleep after the hotness in your whole body despite your window being wide open– and so you took a cold shower and decided to stay up in the living room, watching Netflix (more like having the show in the background as you tried hard to not have a mental breakdown at the newly found information about yourself). Aeri found you like that at 6 in the morning when she woke up to get a glass of water, and even though she was sleepy and groggy– which was probably why you decided to spill the beans so quickly– she interrogated you about the weird look on your face and it’s been a running joke between her and herself for the whole week.

“It’s really not my fault that you find our neighbor hot,” she notes, shrugging to herself.

“When did I say that? When did I say that!” 

“Well, you said you came home all flushed and that you imagined making out with him when you dropped him off back home, so that’s basically the same thing.” 

“I did not say I wanted to make out with him!” you defend yourself. You didn’t say it. You thought about it, that’s for sure, but your roommate really doesn’t have to know that. Unless she can read your thoughts, of course.

“Yeah, whatever. You and I both know it’s true.” 

Sighing, deciding that you’re ending the conversation with your roommate as long as the topic is your annoying neighbor, you turn to your phone and finally reply to his text message.

you – can’t

He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting at his phone for the last 15 minutes, and the predictableness of his message almost makes you chuckle.

hyuck – why

you – cuz im going you – and i wanna drink you – so i cant drive

hyuck – ok that changes things then hyuck – my original mission was to get you to go there with me but this has to do i suppose hyuck – see you there ;)

Yes, you admit that you reread the messages a little too many times for your own liking. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words, you swear your brain is running a thousand miles an hour, and realistically, this is the part where you reach for your girl best friend and ask her what exactly is happening in the chat with you and the guy you’re talking to, but after the endless teasing you’ve already heard from her side, you decide against it and just turn off your screen and put the phone into your bag with the rest of your necessities.

“If you mention something about this tonight in front of Donghyuck, I’m locking you out of the apartment.”

“Ay ay, captain!”

The journey to Liu Yangyang’s house isn’t long. He’s the only one that still lives with his parents, but you can’t really blame him– the house is huge, and they are hardly ever home, because they are always on business trips in Taiwan. Half the time, it’s like the guy owns the place, and he also acts like it too, since half of the parties you’re invited to in a year are taking place at his house. 

When you get there, it seems that everyone was already there– at least the usual group, you suppose. You don’t know who else is invited, but when you arrive to Yangyang’s basement– the part of the house where he usually hosts the more chill, laid-back parties, with low music in the background, laughter resonating through the place and alcohol being passed around between people drinking straight out of the bottles– your eyes instantly zero on Donghyuck, dressed in a light bomber jacket and skin tight jeans, you decide that burning your throat with alcohol is the best thing you can do instead of audibly moaning at the sight.

Taking one of the opened bottles of Bacardi off the little camping table situated near the corner of the big room, you take a swig, not really caring about the people who have drank out of it before you– because the pandemic has taught you nothing, it seems– when you finally walk over to the group and say your greetings. Deciding that avoiding the object of your desire for the whole evening is the best plan how to survive without doing something you’re going to regret, you engage in conversation with pretty much everyone else, completely unaware of the way your neighbors eyes are burning a hole through the side of your skull, kind of offended that you haven’t come up to him first, since as far as he’s concerned, out of all the people present in the room, you spend the most time with him in the first place (with the exception of Aeri, of course, but you two live together, so it doesn't really count). In his opinion, you didn’t need to be talking to Na Jaemin right now– you’re not even friends with the man.

But still– drinking beer out of a bottle Lee Jeno passes you somewhere in the middle of the night before he disappears with his best friend to dance with them under the cigarette haze (pretty embarrassingly, you may add) – the only thing resonating through your brain is that you got this, you’re not gonna give him a single glance, you’re not gonna think about how attractive he looks in all black.

You guess that everything about the way this evening has been going is the prime example of every single college kid’s usual Friday. Sitting in a basement of Liu Yangyang’s house, your vision cloudy with a bit of alcohol and also the sweet, piney smoke of the joint that’s been passed around the room only a few minutes prior, music lowly plays in the background, adding a relaxed, yet exciting and bubbling atmosphere to it all– it’s the epitome of the experience you imagine before you go to college when you’re 15 and gazing longingly outside of your window, wondering if life when you’re older will be better and more fun.

And while you don’t necessarily think life is better now– you do have a shitton of assignments to do and stress eating up your insides– you do think it’s kind of fun. Everything is more bearable when you have a group of friends by your side, and while you wouldn’t call every single person in this room right now your closest friend– a friend for life, even– you’d say everything is better than being stuck in your house on a Friday evening, mourning the break up of One Direction one more time as you watch This is us again with spoonfuls of ice cream shoveled into your mouth, figure cuddled up under the blanket with your roommate by your side.

The fun only lasts until a round of Truth or dare takes place, though. You must admit that it’s the fundamental part of the whole hang out, and yes, it’s the thing you always see in the movies. It adds a bit of spice to it all and it’s twice as fun to play when you’re a little intoxicated, but still– you’d like to think you’re too old for the game now, even though your friends believe otherwise and never fail to bring it up again.

This time, it’s Jaemin who brings it up. You shoot daggers to his skull, annoyed eyes and all, but you don’t think he notices as he continues to excitingly sway his arms in the air when he repeats the submission over and over again, finally heard by his roommate Jeno that’s just come back from the weird dancing session with his best friend that he’s very obviously pining over, and grins at his roommate in agreement, starting the game. 

“Not again,” you whine audibly, because frankly, if you wanted to survive the evening with no embarrassment and no weird thoughts about one of the party guests, you don’t think a game of Truth or dare is your best move. Your disgust makes your own roommate– that’s suddenly glued to your side, too tipsy to even walk (you heard her exclaim that her legs are too heavy to be used)– giggle, already familiar with your thoughts on the game. And frankly, that makes you even more terrified– because when Aeri is drunk, she talks even more than she does when she’s sober, and well, there’s no promising that all of the information you’ve ever shared with her will stay truly confidential when she’s under the influence.

“Don’t start again,” she says, shaking her head, “you always say you hate it, but you always end up playing it anyway.”

She’s right. It’s not like anyone is pressuring you, but you kind of feel like the situation calls for you to join in– because what else are you supposed to do, watch them? There’s no fun in watching if you’re not involved, and you’d feel like an intruder if you just watched them do all sorts of dares while not being in on the game. 

“Yeah, because you’d all whine if I didn’t,” you say instead, taking a sip of your drink, letting the bitter taste of beer slide down your throat as she rolls her eyes at you, nudging you in your side with her elbow.

“Just say you end up having fun,” she snickers, “nobody would think that’s weird, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you shush her and pet her hair, taking advantage of the fact that you’re very obviously less tipsy than her, as you turn to the middle of the circle and wait for the game to start.

Usually, a couple of rounds pass before your name is called. You enjoy the tension– it feels like you have time to prepare to do whatever task their hazed minds come up with or answer whatever question that’s been burning on their tongue, yet, it also feels like a buildup before the big thing– a strange sense of climax, if you will. 

This time, it’s no different. A couple of minutes pass as you watch Yangyang lick the bottom of Jaemin’s foot– because Jeno always likes to come up with the nastiest, most worrying dares of them all– followed by the sight of Shotaro kissing the forehead of the most attractive guy in the circle (Renjun wasn’t happy with the wet peck left on his skin). The guys almost always pick a dare, and you think that’s an advantage, since before it’s your turn to finally participate in the game, they run out of ideas for dares that are possible to do in the weed-smelling basement of Liu Yangyang’s house and you can safely choose truth instead. It’s not like you’re not brave enough to choose dare– you did so many times before and never once backed away from the task, not even when you were dared to kiss the person on your right (that was the night you learned Kim Sunwoo wasn’t all that, because the drunken peck he pressed to your lips wasn’t all that appealing) – you just simply tried to pick the safest strategy for the game. 

Another kissing dare could suggest that you kiss the person you find the most attractive in the room right now. Or they could ask you for a lap dance on one of the guys. The possibilities are endless, and even though choosing the truth isn’t that much safer, since their questions could vary all the way from ‘What’s the color of your underwear right now?’ to ‘What is your favorite sex position?’, you’re trying to comfort yourself with the fact that you could just lie. You know it’s kind of prohibited, and that it also defeats the whole purpose of the game, but still– you’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, and you were always a pretty good liar when it came to words. Actions? Not that much.

Sinked deep in the stained light orange fabric of the sofa, eyes half-lidded, you await Jaemin’s question as you tell him you did indeed pick the truth. And you were right, there are no protests coming out of the boys’ mouths this time around, seemingly tired of coming up with original ideas for their dares. 

“Come on, man, we don’t have the whole day,” Renjun nudges the boy into his ribs, annoyed with the lack of words from his friend. 

“Actually, we do. I don’t see the issue-”

“Just ask something already!” Shotaro whines from his position on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the sofa.

“Fine,” the man straightens up in his position, as if struck by a newly found sense of clarity, the look on Na Jaemin’s face reeking of insanity, “I've got something.” 

The room cautiously looks at the platinum-haired boy sitting on the floor, his back resting against an armchair in the corner of the room as he blinks a few times, seconds passing, yet there’s still nothing coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you gonna say something, or will you continue to act all dramatic…?” Jeno snickers, making his roommate roll his eyes at the jab, finally breaking the silence.

You’d argue that he just forgot what he wanted to say– with how Jaemin gets when he’s drunk, it wouldn’t be half surprising– but it seems like his roommate knows him better than you do, because the man speaks up fast, and suddenly, you take back all your impatient thoughts that urged him to ask you something already, because the question takes you by surprise and leaves you in shock, staring wide eyed and speechless.

“If you had to have sex with anyone in this room, who would you choose?” 

You no longer wish he took longer to ask you the question. No, you wish he would’ve sent it to you telepathically, so you could prepare your answer beforehand. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble– being met with the gaze of everyone, looking at you as they await your answer is truly not helping you with the difficult task of responding to the truth, when in reality, you don’t think you can manage to even say anything.

Because truthfully, if you were asked this question at any time prior to the weird situation you found yourself in with Donghyuck– who’s, just by the way, still present in the room, but more quiet that usual, which you shamefully notice and worry about on your insides, but don’t mention out loud– you’d think that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone in this room. It may be hard to believe– even though the men in this room aren’t the sexsymbols they often think they are– but that's the sheer reality.

But now? You feel like the truth is written all over your face, you feel like everyone can see right inside of your head and read the words straight out of your brain. It’s embarrassing. You feel ashamed.

Looking around the space, shiteating grins meeting all of their expressions, you shrug and finally get some words out, hoping they satisfy their needs for an answer. 

“No one,” you say, praying you sound confident. 

“Yeah, no-”

“Oh, come on-” 

“That’s a lie-”

Multiple voices cut into your confession, all in disbelief. If this isn’t the proof of their impressively big egos, you don’t know what is. All of them now staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, not believing a single word that’s just came out of your mouth, you start to wonder about how to convince them that you are, indeed, telling the truth, even though you’re obviously aren’t, so you don’t have to take a shot of whatever liquid the host of the party has hidden in the closet of his basement as a punishment.

“I’m serious! I’ve never looked at any of you and thought, ‘yea, I’d let him get it’,” you shrug, taking a nervous sip of the beer in your hold again.  

“Okay, but if you had to? Like, imagine someone is holding your mother captive and telling you they’re gonna kill her if you don’t have sex with anyone in this room. Who are you choosing?” Jeno squints at you, and you’re starting to believe that the man just wants you to pick him. 

“I’d have sex with Aeri,” you muse, pointing a finger to her as she’s leeching to your right shoulder, snickering.

“That’s a cop out!”

“Look, man, I don’t find anyone here hot, okay?” you shake your head at the commotion, grinning to yourself to seem more believable. And with how they roll their eyes and sigh to themselves, you think it’s working. There’s a premature feeling of relief in your insides, thinking that you’ve done it, you haven’t exposed yourself, before you hear your roommate mumble from her slumber, making your heart drop deep down into your own fucking asshole.

“Not even Hyuck?” 

Slowly spinning your head towards her, the tight smile on your face suggesting that you’re going to kill her in under approximately five seconds if she doesn’t take back what she said, you’re painfully aware of the fact that everyone’s staring at you now, grinning to themselves with a look that says they believe that Aeri knows something they don’t– she’s your best friend, after all– and you realize that you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this one. 

You should’ve expected this the moment you saw her drink that much. Maybe you should’ve stayed home today. The information about Lee Donghyuck was still too fresh in her brain to not mention when she has some to drink– you understand, in a way. At least, you’re trying to understand.

“Fuck no,” you grunt out, furrowing your eyebrows in the best acting performance you’ve managed to put on since your theatre kid days. You don’t think you’re convincing anyone, though. You’re not even convinced.

“Was that my name I heard?” 

And again, your heart drops at the familiar tone coming from the place straight opposite of you, the place that’s very obviously in your point of view, yet you’ve been successfully avoiding the whole evening to not seem as obvious to everyone that the very man has been occupying your every thought for the last week or two. You realize this is the first time he’s spoken to you this evening, if you’re not counting the text messages you exchanged before you got here, and something about the fact makes you shiver.

Meeting his eyes, because it’s the natural thing to do when someone speaks to you, you mentally curse and feel your heartbeat quickening at the grin sitting on his face. Eyes roaming his body– all against your will–  you notice the comfortable way he’s sitting on the armchair in front of you, legs parted wide and his thighs on full display, hair a little messy and eyes glossed over and blown out, since he smoked just a few minutes prior to the game, making you realize just how painfully he resembles someone who just had a long make-out session; the thought automatically leading you to think of the fact that you’d like to have a make-out session with him right now, and wow, his thighs do look inviting to sit down on.

“You wish,” you spit instead, still wanting to save the situation. Averting your gaze from him to keep yourself sane, you choose to focus on the floor instead, heat rising to the tips of your ears. 

“I mean, it seems more like you do,” he grins, the whole group snickering at the sudden quarrel in between the two of you. Your conversation suddenly reminds you of the ones you had with him before the two of you started properly talking, and something about the confident smirk on his face makes you remember just how annoying you’ve always found him whenever you encountered him at this very place. You’re back to square one for a minute, with your defensive remarks, similar to the way you used to quarrel with him before, and the familiarity engulfs you like a warm blanket.

“Your confidence amuses me,” you bite back, choosing to look at him as you say it to add more impact to your words; your decision seems to only worsen the things for you, though. The conversation admittedly sounds a little too much like flirting, and the way you notice him clutching the can of beer in his hand only makes you more flushed under his gaze.

“You don’t seem amused.”

“That’s because the idea of having sex with you makes me want to leave this room,” you grunt, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’ll take you home if you’d like,” he winks at you. Alarm sound goes off in your mind, your hands clammy as you run them through your hair, and suddenly, you’re on fight or flight. And if you can’t escape the situation, you decide to choose the latter– throwing him the most jabbing remark you can think of at this moment, fighting to keep your dignity.

“On a bike, or something?” you snicker. “As if I’d let a guy without a licence fuck me. You know that’s below my standards, Hyuck.”

An amused gasp is heard in the room when this remark leaves your mouth. The main source of the noise is Liu Yangyang, the host himself, since he likes to laugh at times when it’s the least socially acceptable. 

Now, you know that there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the amount of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in League of Legends, and lastly, their cars. And while Lee Donghyuck is known to be quite the player when it comes to the first thing in the list of social ranking between guys (or at least you’ve heard so from the girls in the locker room in the past years. Not like you were listening to their conversations whenever his name was mentioned… you just have very good hearing) and he was known to be the one that carries the team whenever any game on Yangyang’s PS5 is played in the dimly-lit basement on nights much like this one, there was something always setting him back in the neat ranking, and that something was the state of his car. 

Why? You guessed it– he doesn’t have a car. Or a licence.

To be quite frank, by the expression on Donghyuck’s face– all wide eyes and mouth agape in shock– you hit him right when it hurts, the grin falling off his face when he takes a sip of the beer in his hand, seemingly to chase down the taste of being put in his place and to have something to do to not seem as awkward and embarrassed as he must be feeling right now. 

You feel victorious, in a way– you managed to mask your very obvious sexual frustration caused by the man, while also managing to rile him up with your comment, which is definitely a first in your dynamic– adrenaline rushing through your blood as you look at him with expecting eyes, awaiting his response. The rest of the crowd laughs at your remark, only fueling the joy you feel when he suddenly averts his gaze from you, licking his lips for only a millisecond (yet it doesn’t get unnoticed by your eyes) before he snickers again, shrugging.

“Okay then,” he grunts, pressing the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “you won.”

You know what? Once he admits to it, the feeling of victory quickly fades. Watching his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed as he looks everywhere but at your face, suddenly, you choose to drown yourself in the rest of the beer in your bottle, relieved when you notice the game progressing without you. 

You won, he says, but you don't feel like you did. Quite the opposite, actually. You feel a tad bit defeated. 

You managed to lie to the crowd, but the very obvious pit in your stomach reminds you that you can’t lie to yourself– and now, bear with me as I say something cheesy, yet true– because even though Lee Donghyuck can’t drive, he’s still very successful at driving you crazy.

You feel like the universe is punishing you for every little, smallest thing you’ve ever done wrong in your life. You feel like whatever force is there that’s making this world go around, absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly hates, despises you, and won’t have mercy on you as you’re left dealing with the text message shining on your phone screen four days after the party, at 8 in the evening. 

hyuck – drive me to a date hyuck – please ig 

Sighing, one, two, three times, you chew on the bottom of your lip as your eyes scan over the messages, and something about the very few words makes your stomach turn and twist in an emotion you’d describe as a weird mix of disgust and shock as you mentally try to come up with a reply. And it’s hard.

It’s difficult, because you hate it, you hate it, you hate it– the way Lee Donghyuck just managed to score himself a date only four days after your ever so growing sexual frustration has started to see the light of the day, you hate the way he’s asking you to drive him there– as if to show you that he still has it, that you’re wrong, and that even though he has no car and no license to boost in front of other girls, they still want him and you’re about to witness it as you drive him there. 

And you hate it so much you start to think you’re going to chew on your own fist and throw a rock through your own window, but you strive hard not to show it. And is there a better way to seem unaffected in this situation than to comply with him? If you weren’t so jealous about the whole thing, you’d surely just make fun of him and do it, no questions asked– a friendly favor, or something. And so you do it. Like it’s nothing.

you – ok text me when you’re ready 

After a few minutes, you end up sitting in your car, hands on the wheel ready to turn (and run into the nearest car out of pure rage, possibly), waiting for Lee Donghyuck to appear on the passenger’s seat, all dolled up and dumped in cologne, presumably– and that’s exactly what happens when the door swings open and your nose is filled with his usual smell but somehow amplified, and you catch a glimpse of his leather jacket and the shirt tucked into his black jeans. You don’t outright look at him– because you’re still trying really hard not to show all of your inner thoughts on your face– and so you only turn on the engine and hum at him, already making your way out of the parking lot.

“Where are you going, then?” you ask, tone of voice completely unbothered and not too stingy or tight. “And I’m just dropping you off this time, right? Because I won’t sit there and watch you have a date and wait to drop both of you back,” you say, playing with the car radio and trying to find a station that would both satisfy your need to tune out your thoughts with a good song and the need to do something with your fingers to seem occupied.

“Of course not,” he snickers, “wouldn’t do that to poor you. And just go the way I tell you. Now turn left at the end of the street.”

Sighing to yourself at his orders, you do your best at driving your neighbor to his date while trying to ignore just how ridiculous this whole situation is. You should’ve said no back when he first asked you to be his personal driver for the semester– failing Film theory class doesn’t seem like such a bad thing in your eyes now, when you look at the situation in retrospect.

“Can’t believe you have to be dropped off at your own date and you still pull bitches,” you shake your head in disbelief, hoping, praying you seem annoyed because of your duties and not because you’d much rather have him staying in so you could catch a glimpse of him in his window, crouched down in the blue light of his room (yes, he has neon lights in his room. Yes, you teased him about it countless of times before) as he plays League of Legends or stays up on a discord call with his friends, playing Minecraft.

“See? You’re missing out,” he chuckles, shrugging to himself. 

“As if I’d ever go on a date with you,” you huff, moving to turn the volume of the radio higher so you don’t have to make small talk with him anymore, agitated, yet completely ignoring the fact that it was you who brought it up in the first place.

Hyuck moves his slender fingers along the knob of the radio and tunes the volume back down, and you’re eager to repeat your previous steps just to anger him and also so you don’t have to listen to his sneaky, egoistical remarks for any longer, when you hear him tell you the next directions and you realize that you still indeed need to hear Donghyuck’s voice, or else you’re not gonna be able to drop him off at his destination and drive away as fast as humanly possible.

The terrain around you starts to look more stranded. There are more trees than buildings in your sight, lampposts decreasing in amount as you drive further away from the city center, and only when you pass the sign that tells you that you just left the town you speak up again, now truly concerned.

“Where the fuck are you taking your date, man? To the middle of the woods?” you huff. “Is she meeting you there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs, shaking his head at your furrowed brows. Something about his casual composure makes your nerves tick off and goosebumps appear all over your body, as if you were sensing danger, when you sigh out heavily in frustration and turn to look at him for only a split second, eyes meeting with his. 

“Or are you making me drive to another fucking state, you fucker? I don’t have that much gas right now, you dumb ass–”

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes at you, pointing somewhere into the distance again. “Just turn right there and drive up the hill.”

“Up the fucking hill?” you repeat, concerned.

“I told you to not worry about it,” Hyuck hums, settling deeper into the car seat, letting you battle your own thoughts as you follow his orders and drive up the hill for him, praying no deer decides to jump onto the road and total your car right now. 

“I worry about the girl that agreed to go on a date with you, Donghyuck,” you mutter, “I’ll tell you that, she clearly doesn’t have everything alright in the brain, because this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he swats your worries away with a swing of his arm, pointing towards a place that extends out of the main road– if you can even call it that, since no cars are passing through the hill ever, much more in these hours of the day– and tells you that you can park the car there. 

And you do as you’re told, despite your never-ending complaining– that’s the dynamic you have with Lee Donghyuck, it seems. 

Stopping the car out of the main road, your car shielded from one side by a row of trees, you step on the break and look at the man to your right in question, the engine still running. “Is this it? Is this the place?”

“Yeah,” he nods, a grin slowly starting to play with his features. Something isn’t right– you feel it in your bones and see it in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it, still utterly confused and in the dark about everything. “Come on, get out of the car.”

He wastes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the vehicle, his figure circling the car as he leans on the hood, turned away from you and seemingly waiting for you to follow his actions. Confused, figuring that you can’t do much more about the situation right now– where the fuck is his date? Why are we on the top of a hill? Will his date show up? – all swimming around your brain, you hop out and find his warm being, standing one step ahead of him and staring at him with stern, frustrated eyes.

“Look, isn’t it pretty?” he asks, pointing somewhere behind you. It takes everything in you to turn and gaze at the sight in front of you, your heart still weak and angrily beating against your ribcage, but you do as you’re ordered, eyes bearing into the view. 

The whole town is stretching out right below you. Now that you’ve turned the engine off and your headlights have gone out, you see the lights even better, shielded by a blanket of stars glimmering above the horizon, and you can’t help but gasp out in the beauty of it all. This place makes you want to take a picture, so you can remember how you felt while standing here and admiring the city forever– so you can remember how you felt while standing next to Donghyuck, heart foolishly drumming against your ribcage– and you suddenly realize just how badly you despise the fact that he showed this to you just to send you off while he waits for his date, as if to show you everything you could have if you went out with him, even though the question was never even on the table in the first place.

Clearing your throat, you turn to him, eyes glazing his side profile. “Where’s your date? Is she turning up? I don’t think it’s safe to make her–”

“My date’s already here,” he hums, nodding to himself. 

This does nothing to clear out the fog of confusion from in front of your eyes. “Huh? Where?”

“Here,” he repeats. The word has you wearily looking around yourself, furrowed brows and all– and that only makes the man chuckle at your antics, low voice cutting out of his throat making its way straight to the bottom of your stomach. “There’s no one else here. Just us. And no one else is coming, so will you chill out and enjoy our date, finally?” he asks, locking his gaze with you in a lazy, yet attractive manner that has your hands shaking and your brain instantly panicking.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you process his words for a few seconds, doing mental acrobatics and racking your brain in thought. Nothing helps. “Our date?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, no,” you giggle out in awkwardness, feeling unarmed and like somebody’s just dunk a bucket of hot water over you. Shaking your head, you try hard to mask the way you’re feeling on the inside right now, because what are you even feeling right now? As you do some unreadable gestures with your arms as a way of declining and canceling everything that’s happening right now. “Us? A date? Yeah, not happening–” 

You mumble out, ready to escape the situation as fastly and as efficiently as you can while you try to make your way back inside of the car, not really thinking of the journey home you’re about to have to make with him on the passenger’s seat, when a hand grips your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You take a few steps away from him nonetheless, and the man soon follows you before your body is swiftly turned against your car, the small of your back coming in contact with the driver’s door. Your breathing is quick when the man hovers above you, and you don’t feel danger– you just feel a bit panicked at the way tonight’s playing out. A date? You wouldn’t have thought of this in your most insane dreams.

“Why are you trying to run away?” he asks, his hand still holding your wrist, his fingers firm, yet gentle on your skin.

“Because– um– because-” you stutter, eyes instantly meeting his– regret pooling in the bottom of your stomach when you realize the proximity of his gaze, something tense bundling up in your insides, “this is ridiculous, Donghyuck, you can’t just–”

“I can’t just?” he tempts you, eyebrows rising to make you continue.

“You can’t just lure me into a date with you, that’s not how this works–”

“Would you go if I asked, then?”

“No, of course not!” you shake your head at him, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. Your eyes scan over your companion, his face reflecting the moonlight, and you find yourself counting the moles on his cheeks and noticing his sped-up breathing, automatically matching it despite not realizing it yourself. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a driving license, or because you’re just scared to admit that you’re attracted to me?” he challenges you, quirking up his brows at you in tension. 

Something about it makes you lose all the air in your lungs. He’s so close now you swear the scent of his cologne has made you drugged up, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off his lips for the next few seconds, completely in trance and electrified, and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess, too lost in everything that is him to come up with something coherent. “That’s- that’s just not-”

He laughs at you, he snickers, as those words escape your mouth, not even a full sentence. You bet it’s enough of a confirmation for him that you’ve officially lost all control– you can’t seem to get out a teasing remark like you usually can, no smart words calculated and thrown his way to scatter down his ego, and you think he realizes that he won. You’re defenseless, you’re weak, and you really want to make out with him right now.

Which he might have sensed out of the way you’ve been yearningly staring at his lips the whole exchange. Still, he mumbles out a small “Stop me now if you don’t want this,” just to be completely sure.

And you don’t. You don't stop him when he leans in and captures your lips with his. You’d be a fool to.

His lips crash against yours with a fever-like pace, the tension that’s been building up between the two of you making itself known in the hurried motions of your lips. His kiss is deep, hands cradling your cheeks as he angles you to lock your lips with his better, not a hint of shyness or hesitance in his motions. Your fingers shakily grasp at the front of his shirt, trying to steady yourself when each motion of his mouth against yours leaves your knees weaker and weaker, your body pressed harder against the car door.

He tastes of mint, making you suspect he planned this and chewed on a gum before meeting you, and when his teeth gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue is left exploring the inside of your mouth, making you grow hotter and hotter under his ministrations. Your hands occupy themselves as they finally let go off his shirt and sneak around his small waist, pulling him closer, and you swear that you’ve never experienced a kiss that would leave you so eager for more before, a kiss that would leave you so weak and open for anything that’s about to happen– as if you were already naked and bare, a puddle in his palms. 

You’re soon left out of breath, gasping for air when he pulls away from you, and his kisses turn into pecks left on your lips, open mouthed kisses slowly trailing to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, lips hungrily attaching to your neck, his nose glazing the soft skin as if to smell your scent and ingrave it into his memory. Something inside of you unties and makes you lose all of your control, finally falling fully into the sensation of the novelty of making out with Lee Donghyuck against your car, and you find your hands tying themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots when he finds the soft spot on the crevice of your shoulder that makes you squirm, and you suddenly know what all the girls in the locker rooms were talking about. Each action of his has you gasping for air, eyes pressing shut in the blissfulness of it all– the bites he leaves on your neck, smoothing them down with kitten licks each time surely leaving bruises, making your insides light up with the acts of possession.

“Hyuck–” you gasp, his mouth sucking into another spot on your neck, your head instantly moving away from his way to give him more space to work his magic.

“Hm?” he hums, a satisfied sound cutting out of his throat as his actions get more slow, more lazy, but still just as electrifying. You don’t really know what you wanted to say– perhaps you had no point of calling his name just to say it, and the hazy look in your face is enough of a proof to him when he unattaches himself off your neck and locks his eyes with you, a grin settling onto his face. “Feels good?” 

Nodding eagerly, almost a bit fast and a bit too soon to your own liking (but you’ll worry about that later), you watch him lean towards you again, lips locking with yours in need. Your fingers trail up and down his clothed back, his fingers mirroring the same, but up your loose shirt (which reminds you that you didn’t even dress prettily for the occasion– since you didn’t know this was your date you're attending), cold hands against your heated skin. Shivering from the fresh breeze of the night, you feel him grin against your lips before detaching himself from them to speak against your mouth. “Let’s move this somewhere warmer,” he murmurs before he tugs you away from the car and opens up the back door, pushing you inside.

Swiftly getting inside and closing the door behind himself, Donghyuck appears hovering above you, caging you against the uncomfortable seat. Still, you don’t have time to feel any sense of discomfort as his fingers move your hair from the way and his lips are back on yours again, leaving you no time to think of the implications of the whole situation. 

“See? Isn’t this much better than arguing with each other all the time?” Hyuck snickers again in a moment of weakness when he pulls back from your face to admire your swollen lips, and the teasing has you pushing him towards the seats, a dissatisfied look on your face. 

“Shut up,” you whisper almost hurriedly, climbing onto his lap (not before you admire his sprawled-up legs and the sight of his thighs, though).

“Make me,” he challenges.

“Gladly,” you nod, attaching yourself to his plump lips again, since you can’t seem to get enough of the sensation of them against your weak self, every sweep of his tongue with yours making you feel more heated and impatient as you move against him in his lap, the motion earning you a dissatisfied grunt sent against your mouth as his palms grip your hips with unsaid urgency.

“Don’t start something you wouldn’t want to finish,” he breathes out.

Nodding, you hum. “Who said anything about stopping?” you muse out, grinding against him harder.

You’ll worry about the consequences later.

“Why am I the only one in the shot?” you squint your eyes at the male, watching him as he points his camera to you and tells you to smile and act natural. Donghyuck has on his varsity jacket and his hair is sitting messy, a bit curled on the top of his head, his legs are covered with loose gray sweatpants instead of his usual black jeans– he looks casual, and yet, he looks amazing, you foolishly think as you sigh to yourself and walk across the field, much like the male mentioned a few weeks ago when the two of you ate fried chicken with his free coupons, trying to capture the energy of what youth feels like to you.

“Because you are the main star, honey,” he grins at you, the nickname making you trip over a little on your own feet, before you turn back to him and send him a glare.

“I told you not to call me that,” you mutter, but feel the heat from your stomach slowly rising to the tips of your ears and the tops of your cheeks, your composure slowly crumbling under his gaze. Not only are you watched by his deep brown orbs, there’s also a camera pointed at you now, and if he doesn’t stop with the weird flirting he has going on– especially after what happened between the two of you last week– you don’t know how you’re supposed to contain yourself and act so you don’t look like an utter fool in front of everyone, when the clips will be played in class next week.

“Besides, the project is due next week and this is all we’re doing? Are you sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?” you ask, wary of his confidence. You’re not really sure if Donghyuck knows what he’s doing with this assignment. Why did you even trust him with it in the first place?

“I told you to leave it to me,” he says, “now be a good girl and run down the field, maybe twirl a little like a ballerina, I dunno… Hum a little tune to yourself, do anything remotely interesting and youthful, okay?” he instructs you, and you comply, ignoring the fact that he told you to be a good girl, because after what the two of you did last week, you’re not able to register those two words in a way that would not be mildly sexual in your brain.

You two haven’t spoken about the fact that you hooked up in the backseat of your car after your weird date last week. Truth be told, you two haven’t spoken about anything since it happened, because you felt too awkward and hesitant to bring any conversation topic up. The first time you two spoke was when Donghyuck texted you yesterday about the project, and you told yourself that you simply can't ignore him when it comes to these things, and so you agreed to meet up with him, hoping he won't bring up the events of last week. You were scared. What were you scared of, exactly? You have no idea.

Something in you was almost a bit shameful to admit to yourself that you managed to fall for Lee Donghyuck this quickly. Something in you was a bit embarrassed at the fact that you let yourself be so intimate and so close with the male, and although you don’t regret it, you don’t think you want to talk about it with him (or anyone, for that matter) just yet. Or ever, actually.

And although you could be rational and tell yourself that surely, Donghyuck wanted you in just the same way you wanted him, and there was nothing embarrassing about it, you didn’t feel comfortable with talking about the act with him, because deep down, you know it wasn’t just about the sex for you and you were afraid that it was for him, and you’d rather stay in the blissful unknowingness than to know he only wanted to have sex with you and not try to go somewhere further with your relationship. Did this inner monologue reek of disgusting insecurity? 

Yes. Yes, it did. But somehow, you’re not able to do anything about it.

And so you run down the field like Donghyuck told you to, and you twirl and twist and shout and dance around, trying your hardest to act silly and youthful and exactly like he would like you to, because you’d hate to be unnatural around him, and you pray it’s enough for both the project and him included. Turning back to gaze at him from the distance, you notice that he’s not even recording anymore, only watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes glimmering under the direct sunlight, and you wonder how you haven’t realized just how beautiful he is when he’s simply just existing all those months ago, and how foolish you feel with the thought and both without it now. Walking up to him, you muse. 

“Are we done here?” 

“I think we got all the shots we need,” he hums, nodding to your question. There is something reassuring in his smile, and if you were confident enough to grasp at the straws, you would try to talk to him about the events of last week. You lack in many ways, though, and you were never so self-assured as you try to portray yourself to be, and so you don’t. 

“Let’s go, then,” you say, shuddering from the cold November wind as you walk away from the man, expecting him to follow you. You drove here, since the place is a few miles away from the city, and the fact that this marks the end of your project didn’t really make you as relieved and happy as you thought you’d feel back when you agreed to be his driver for the semester. 

A soft fabric envelopes your shoulders, his varsity jacket hugging you into warmth. You smell his cologne when you shyly push your limbs through the sleeves– a self-indulgent desire, too strong to be fought away– and when you look at him to thank him, he wears a soft look in his eyes that glazes you with such tenderness you feel like combusting from the inside with the strengths of your own emotions. Your heart beats fast in your chest when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you walk towards the car, and when a stronger wind hits your heated face, you think that maybe Donghyuck was right, after all. 

You do think this perfectly captures what youth feels like.

“So we won’t talk about it?” he asks, and you turn away from him in fear of your emotions being clearly written on your face. He doesn’t have to name it– you know what he means.

“No,” you shake your head, determined, yet a little scared of his response, “not now.” Not yet, you think. You want to enjoy today a little longer.

“Why?” he asks.

Taking a shaky breath in, sensing that you won’t get to avoid the confrontation like you wanted to, you shrug. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it yet,” you bitterly laugh, meeting his eyes with something close to fear in your eyes.

“Hear what?”

“That you… you didn’t really mean anything by it, y’know,” you mumble, “I mean, you probably just did it to stroke your ego, or something, after everything I said at the party, so… yeah, I just don’t know if I wanna hear it.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence after your explanation, and Donghyuck only stares you down with a blank expression. It's not often that you don’t get to clearly see and experience all his emotions flashing through his face, letting you know what he feels even before he gets to speak it out loud. Now is one of the situations, though, and it scares you– it makes you so deeply afraid you’d rather back away from this conversation– damn you for entertaining it in the first place, and so you pretend it never happened in the first place.

“You think I did it to stroke my ego?” he clarifies.

“I- I mean…” you stutter, shying away from his gaze.

“Okay, then,” he mumbles, jaw hardening, his eyes not meeting yours when he circles the car and gets to his designated place on the passenger's seat, “that’s fine, I guess. I’ll try to show you my intentions clearer next time.”

Sitting in class, head resting in your hands as you stare right in front of you, mentally counting down the seconds until the last class of the semester starts, you are only vaguely aware of the things happening around you. You register Aeri talking to you about the new episode of her favorite drama somewhere to your right and you are also aware of Haknyeon and Shotaro sitting in the row in front of you, laughing loudly to themselves about the way their weekend went– yours went terribly, just for everyone’s information, since you decided to drown your feelings in alcohol alone in your apartment, having to be led to bed by your roommate after she got home in the middle of the night from one of her dates with Eric. You don’t really realize it when the class starts, because the monotone voice of your professor doesn’t do much to wake you up, but you are painfully aware of Lee Donghyuck’s body slumping next to yours into one of the only vacant chairs approximately 10 minutes after the class starts, out of breath and slouched over.

Aware of his presence, yet still acting like a scared deer around him, you don’t make any effort into turning to him and greeting him upon his arrival. Still, you sense the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you just a bit more tired and sleepy, your eyes closing on themselves before you’re woken up by the sound of your name coming out of the professor’s mouth.

Scared you’re getting scolded for sleeping in class, you straighten your back and put on your best polite expression, but then you realize your name wasn’t called, just mentioned, and the name of none other than your neighbor was following, when the projector on the wall in front of you lights up and a file named Final projects is opened on the professor’s laptop, each .mp4 file named with a pair of surnames, and two clicks after, your final project is the first one of many presented in front of the whole class. You tried to tell Donghyuck that you could help with the final editing, but the male said he had a vision he needed to achieve, and for that, he wanted to be in charge of it alone, and frankly, out of fear of interacting with him more than was absolutely necessary, you left him to do his thing, resulting in this being your first time watching the final video as well.

There’s a few seconds of silence, a point of complete blankness as the clip starts, and a song played on an acoustic guitar starts playing when the word YOUTH, all capitalized, flashes at the screen. 

A clip of you running down the field in your flowy dress starts the video, the camera zooming in on your figure when you twirl and skip around in the tall grass, and then you laugh over the background music, the sound making you gape in surprise. You didn’t know your laugh sounded like that, and with the hazy coloring of the clips and the solemn, youthful atmosphere Donghyuck managed to capture in the video, you find yourself thinking the sound was kind of beautiful. 

Then the clip cuts into another one– and you widen your eyes at the sight, because Donghyuck told you he’s only going to include the clips from the field, and you believed him, well, because you never saw him record anything else– as the screen shows you a bunch of moments, all wordless, of you just going on with your life. The very next one is of you arriving to class late, a grumpy expression playing with your features. You didn’t notice Donghyuck filming back then, when he offered you a cup of coffee as you laid back on the desk, and a fit of giggles erupts around the class at your behavior. The next clip shows you laughing at Aeri’s shoulder in Yangyang’s basement– a couple of clips of that night following, capturing you playing beer pong with your other friends, or taking sips of your beer when you sat down on one of the folding chairs in the corner of the basement– each one showcasing you completely natural, unstaged, and raw. You had no idea anyone was watching you, yet alone taking clips of you. Did Donghyuck have his camera with him all those times? Or was he just taking those with his phone, since you never even noticed?

There’s a clip of you showing him the middle finger through the window when he called you late at night one day. Another one of you driving, and frankly, you don’t even know where you were going, but the sound of you giggling breaks through the speakers and you slouch deeper into your seat, shy at hearing the sound. The very next one is of you sipping at your boba through your straw, and that’s when you realize those were taken by his phone– at least some of them– because you attempt to hide from the lens by showing your palm against it. Another clip shows you digging through bags of McDonald’s take out in the driver’s seat of your car, another one lets you remember the time you went to get fried chicken with him, thinking he’s sending the video he took of you to tease his roommate with the free food he got with someone else back then, unaware that he wanted to use it for the project later. 

There are a few clips that only last a second. You walking a few steps ahead of him– you think it was the time you two went to the mall, you angry with his antics. Another one of you picking out cans of soda from the rack in the convenience store. A clip of you driving, once again, but now the sky is starry and dark, and you remember the night too well, since it wasn’t that long ago. A clip of you glaring at your bangs in the rear view mirror, another one of you staring into your textbooks at the library. 

There’s only one clip that shows Donghyuck as well. It’s one taken without you knowing, much like the previous ones, and how you missed the phone plopped up against the corner of your dashboard, you really don’t know, but the video shows you two in the McDonald’s parking lot, your hand touching his on the gear stick as you show him how to drive. Only then do you notice the flustered look on his face and the nervous laugh he gets out in the clip, the sound making your heart jump in your ribcage. 

The last part of the video is of you walking a few steps ahead of him, his varsity jacket hugging you around your shoulders. It’s the latest clip of them all, and it makes you painfully shy to look at it. The video comes to finish with a few last strums of an acoustic guitar in the background, and you come back to your senses when you feel a hand squeeze your thigh under the table, the whole class erupting into claps. The video was beautiful, and you feel moved.

Although you should be more mad about the fact that Donghyuck took videos of you without you knowing, there is something incredibly moving about the fact that somebody was looking at you and felt the need to capture the moment before it went away. The clips were candid, real, raw, showcasing exactly how the memory went, how your laugh sounded, and how you looked through Donghyuck’s eyes. The video was exactly what it needed to be and more. 

There’s something about the fact that all of the clips were of you that made you feel weak in your knees. If the video was what youth feels like, does this mean you were his youth?

If you felt beautiful in the video, loved the way your eyes crinkled in joy, liked the way your expressions morphed into the purest form of whatever emotion you felt at the moment, did that mean this was the way Donghyuck saw you with his eyes?

“See?” you hear him whisper into your ear, his hand still resting at the top of your leg. “I told you I had a vision. I did a good job, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, then offer him a nod. “I didn’t know you were recording all of those,” you whisper, ignoring the words coming out of your professor’s mouth– surely evaluating your work right now. You don’t really want to hear it, though– you’re sure you’ll pass. After seeing what your neighbor’s capable of, you have no doubts.

“I wanted it to feel authentic,” he peeps, “to the way I see you, I mean.”

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d prove your point later?” you wonder.

“I mean, the fact that I’ve always had the biggest crush on you was supposed to come across when I liked your objectively terrible haircut you got at the beginning of the term, but yes,” he admits, sheepishly smiling.

“Okay, uncalled for,” you shrug off his hand from your thigh, to which he giggles and captures your limb with his again, interlacing your fingers. He sways your hands back and forth, offering you a soft look that drives you slightly insane. After all of this, you’re really not sure what you were so afraid of.

“How does that roadtrip sound right now?” 

“Still absolutely terrifying,” you note. 

“Even if I pay for gas?” he laughs.

Squinting at him, admiring the boyish grin playing with his lips, you sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

[kymsys]

(okay i was going about my day yesterday but i really couldn't get the merman au out of my head😭😭 i just imagine for a while somehow geto managed to sneak satoru into the palace and then it's a whole ordeal trying to hide him. panicked geto and oblivious gojo and really for all that image is stuck in my head i still have yet to write a proper interaction w them but!! it's not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes and it's a bit scattered but i had to get this one scene out that was brewing in my mind so🥺 ignore this if you want❗️❗️)

--

From the mezzanine, everyone looked like ants. Suguru had to squint to make out familiar faces in the crowd, and even then, the only person he could identify was a distant aunt of his that he had never really liked. Usually, he'd have been able to pick apart anyone of significance; he'd have known their name, their title, their interests. 

Suguru would've known, he always memorises the details before public events — he spends days in his room at a time, talking into the mirror and telling his reflection things about these people who he has never met. Perhaps, lately, he'd been busy with Satoru.

Suguru smiled. He didn't feel as guilty as he thought he would.

A hand clapped on his back, and he jolted. Shoko beside him, cocking a brow. “What's got you looking like a dumbass?” Her voice was flat, eyes busy scanning the crowd and Suguru knew who she was looking for.

He cleared his throat. He couldn't really tell her that he was keeping a siren in the little pond in his private garden — well, it wasn't exactly little, but that information held no relevance anyway. Shoko was his dear friend, and he knew she would always support him, but he had to keep Satoru a secret, more for her sake. Suguru bit his lip in thought. If only Satoru didn't have such a strong taste for human flesh.

“Is meat more nutritious than fish?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” Suguru winced at the look he was being sent. He didn't mean to blurt the question out, but he'd been thinking about it for days. The salmon that he'd been feeding Satoru probably wasn't enough to sustain a creature his size — especially when he was so active — which would mean he burnt through a lot of calories very quickly. “Utahime is on the balcony,” Suguru pointed in the general direction, giving Shoko a pat on the shoulder, “good luck.”

From his peripheral vision, he could see Shoko roll her eyes as he walked away, but she muttered a small 'thanks' before she turned to find the other woman. He was glad she finally had someone to open up to other than him — he saw how happy Shoko was with Utahime, and with the burden of inheriting the throne giving her sleepless nights, it was all Suguru could want for his closest friend.

He turned his attention back to the winding flight of stairs before him. Now, to find some meat.

KINGGGGGGGGGGGG (can i call you like that??)!!!! ♥ GAHHH IM SO HONOURED AND HAPPY, you actually wrote MORE??? bless you, this is truely amazing, this has me by my throat. thank you so fucking much, i love it!! <3 WHY THE FUCK WOULD I EVER IGNORE THIS, are u out of your mind. i LOVEEEE the way suguru keeps thinking about his little "pet" gojo and what would probably be the best food for him! like indeed he is a massive creature, he will probably need...a lot?? but also at the same time i can imagine that he is maybe not that....needy. isnt that a thing with lots of sharks or deep sea fish that they eat very little, just because its so hard to get by food? so their organism is evolved to survive on very little food and thrive nonetheless. MAYBE suguru just thinks gojo is in need of lots of food, but actually gojo just likes to eat bc he enjoys the food, but doesnt neccessarily need it?(he is also a mystical creature, so in that sense anything is possible really xD) I ALSO LOVE HOW SUGURU JUST RANDOMLY ASKS SHOKO ABOUT NUTRITIONS AND SHOKO IS JUST LIKE WHAT, i adore that ; u ; <3 AND OMG gojo lives in a pond in his private garden??? HOW CUTE!! so that makes me wonder (pls indulge with me) why would he bring this technically "monster" into his home? generally i would think maybe that a creature like that needs its space and would need their freedom? so MAYBEEEEE smth has happened? maybe gojo got hurt, maybe even when he was caught in the fishernet situation? MAYBE suguru needs to take care of him until he gets better and maybe gojo, the curious creepy creature that he is, enjoys the change of environment and the new feeling of being cared for?? its exciting for both! what do you think ?? 👉👈 maybe you had a different idea?? im so excited to hear your thoughts!! AND AGAIN THANK YOU, i love it SO much, i feel so lucky that you actually like it so much that you wanna write about it T___T ♥

EVERYONE LOOK !!!!!!!!

[foodtruckery]

Hi there! Im a bit new to ur blog but i just wanted to pop in to tell you how much i adore Combat Baby! Im actually super insane about it!! Idk why but the whole coat bits were just phenomenal and live in my brain forever now? Im already a sucker for older ford and mullet stan but oh boy now i cant stop picturing every version of stan stealing his brother's coat...for regular reasons and maybe also spicy reasons 👀 like a consensus i see is ford being a clothing sniffer but stan could also have a coat to sniff...as a treat...anyway sorry for rambling a bit here!! but please keep up the excellent work!

hello there, anon!! hey, if it makes you feel any better, i am also new to this blog so no worries there at all lol. ahh but thank you so much, it's so kind of you to come over here to say that!!

and okay hahaha let me ramble a little bit about the damn coat! cause i hadn't actually planned for like. ANY OF THAT to happen, so i am just thrilled to hear you enjoyed that random ass bit that ended up running away from me! cause like here's the thing. my main goal was just to get a few of ford's fucking layers off for the sake of the scene (fun fact: this whole scene originally started in a different room entirely and i said fuck that and moved them to the kitchen).

but then i figured the coat gave stan something to kinda consider while ford is faffing about, gave me a point to work on to keep driving at that "similar but different" narrative i was trying to lean into. but like....then the coat is there y'know?? i hadn't even included him asking for the thing in my first pass of that scene. but then it kinda felt like chekov's coat at that point and i couldn't not bring it back in.

but yes, i'm absolutely with you. i really do love the idea of stan like. taking comfort in being surrounded by something that smells like ford. especially if we're talking mullet stan and older ford here. and uhhhh. i had other like stuff i was gonna say, i think, but i kinda got carried away so.

hey! welcome to the blog! have a vaguely, hand wavey post-combat baby tidbit of stan jerking off in ford's coat:

This was stupid. Painfully, humiliatingly stupid. And if he got caught, Stan was pretty sure he'd just voluntarily disappear for another ten years rather than reckon with that particular flavor of mortification. 

Fuck, what did it say about him that the thought of Ford walking in and catching him beating off in nothing but his brother's stupid coat just made his dick twitch harder in his palm? 

Stan bit down on his lower lip and cast a furtive glance towards the door, but he didn't slow his fist any. He couldn't hear any movement outside the room, which suggested that Ford was still down in the basement or fucking around in the woods — he couldn't actually remember which one at the moment. He just knew that Ford had gone and occupied himself somewhere else and left his coat laying around, easy pickings. He hadn't even thought it through before he grabbed the thing and made himself scarce with it.

Vaguely, Stan reasoned that if Ford hadn't taken his coat, he probably wasn't wandering around outside in the fucking snow. But that meant he was probably somewhere inside still, and that really shouldn't make him as hot as it did. 

“Fucking hell,” he panted, fumbling with his free hand to tug the collar of the coat up to his nose. He breathed in the familiar-but-not smell of Ford and the memory of making embarrassing noises into the same material while he was railed on the kitchen table. 

Shuddering, Stan rolled his palm over the head of his dick and smeared precome down the shaft, muffling a moan in the jacket collar. It was heavy, a noticeable enough weight shifting against his bare skin that if he closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could almost imagine Ford kneeling behind him, pressed against his back and draping his arms over his shoulders. It would put his mouth right against that spot behind Stan's ear that had never fully shaken the phantom feeling of Ford's lips moving there. 

But what the fuck would he even say? Would he be pissed at Stan for taking his coat? Probably. Sneer that he shouldn't be surprised that a whore who can't keep his own clothes on would feel entitled to stealing his. He'd loom against his back and watch Stan fuck his own fist right up until he was twitching, nearly there, and then Ford would grab his wrist and tell him to stop because he didn't deserve to come. 

Stan tucked his chin to press closer to the material he was holding to his face and rocked his hips, as much to follow the steady pumping of his fist as to feel the coat shift against his thighs and around where his knees were pressed to the floor. Because he hadn't even managed to make it to the fucking bed once he'd gotten into the room. He'd just stripped in a hurry, leaving his own clothes thrown haphazardly to the side, and yanked on Ford's stupid space coat. 

If he were going for realistic, if Ford wandered upstairs and threw open the bedroom door and found Stan jerking off in the middle of the room, he probably wouldn't do anything at all. He'd get that brief, surprised little look on his face, eyebrows raising over the rim of his glasses and maybe, maybe part his lips just a little bit. 

And then, while Stan was stammering and trying to come up with an excuse or an apology or literally anything worth saying to make this look less like what it was, Ford would reset his expression and cross his arms and say something short like, “Well? Get on with it, then.” He would stand in the doorway, maybe lean there a bit, comfortable as you please, and watch Stan frantically try to finish the job like he was simply overseeing one of his less interesting experiments. 

Stan huffed against the coat and swallowed down a moan as he rubbed against the sensitive spot under the head of his dick. He was so close. And he needed to hurry the fuck up if he didn't actually want Ford to walk in on him. Cause that was all well and good while he was hot and shivering and chasing down an orgasm, but he would probably actually die if he got caught. Or maybe Ford would do him a favor and just kill him on the spot for it? 

Nosing the fold of the coat collar, Stan heard a quiet click in the room before the heater kicked on, thrumming away to keep the stupid cabin at a reasonable temperature for the middle of winter. Because the heat had been turned off, like Ford had suspected, and they'd managed for a few days with Stan chopping wood and putting the shack's little fireplace to use. But that was a miserable chore, and eventually Stan figured, fuck it, and gave the gas company a call. 

Turned out, telling the right sob story with an appropriately pathetic voice could get you an extension and get the heat back on until your genius brother figured out his nerd ass replacement for powering the shack. Stan didn't know what he meant by that, and he hadn't asked, because as long as they had some way of heating the place up, he was happy. 

But he did distinctly remember telling Ford he had gotten the gas turned back on for another couple weeks. The way he made that brief, surprised face and then, for a moment, nothing else at all. Long enough that Stan had rolled his eyes and turned to head back out of the room, because really, what the hell had he expected here? But then Ford had finally cleared his throat and said, awkward, like he'd only just realized he should, “Thank you, Stanley. Good work.” 

Stan shoved a mouthful of Ford's coat between his teeth and bucked jerkily when he came all over his fist, skin tingling and Ford's voice rolling around between his ears. 

“J-Jesus Christ, Stanley,” he panted to himself once he'd stopped whining and could spit out the edge of the coat — didn't taste nearly as good as it smelled. And, he realized with a groan, he'd managed to get jizz all over the sleeve. Fantastic. 

Once he caught his breath, he would get dressed, wipe the coat off as best he could, and put it back. Then he would pray to god that Ford didn't notice anything, wouldn’t see the splotchy attempts at cleaning it or smell Stan on it. And he would never touch the damn thing again. Really.

[everythingisawayoflife]

one direction has been in the news as of late and on my mind (and on repeat) so i’m taking it upon myself to combine my two interests and describing what kind of directioner each batfam member is. this is for pure shits and giggles and not really based on canon, im going off pure vibes and spite.

dick - dick is NOT ashamed of his love for one direction and works out to them frequently. he’s definitely a harry fan and his favorite era of harry looks is prince hair but also long hair bc mulletwing, duh. his favorite album is midnight memories and favorite song is happily. he def saw them and 5sos in concert and remembers exactly where he was when zayn announced he was leaving the group.

jason - jason only knows so much one direction cause dick blares it in the cave when they’re working out. jason fucks with zayn and louis so hard and believes their 2014 VMAs look is top tier (which, valid). jason let himself listen to Midnight Memories, cause he appreciated the aesthetic of the album, his favorite song is the title track, Midnight Memories. to spite dick, however, he will bump The Wanted, since dick was there to witness the 1D vs. The Wanted beef.

tim - tim wasn’t a directioner but he did stumble on the adventurous adventures of one direction as a kid and may or may not know all the words to that iconic first episode, so he knows a decent chunk of lore. he also scrolls through l*rry forums when he’s bored and enjoys poking holes in their logic (tim has fought babygaters and come out on top). tim does not have a favorite album but he does enjoy their cover of one way or another/teenage kicks that they did for red nose day as well as teenage dirtbag. tim also does not have a favorite member but if he had to pick, gun to his head, he’d probably say louis.

steph - do not cite the deep magic (best song ever music video intro) to stephanie, she was there when it was written. steph is a diehard directioner. she watched the icarly episode where they guest starred when carly gave harry jungle worms. stephanie read the one direction imagines, wrote and read one direction x y/n fanfiction, she breathed these boys and would give a kidney to one of them if asked. steph loves their whole discography but i find her being very partial to their fetus era, so take me home i think is her fave, and her fave song is heart attack, that went platinum in her bedroom. steph swore she was gonna marry zayn with that cinnamon curl in his hair and a little part of her still thinks she will.

damian - this baby tried so hard not to let the 1D bug bite him but made in the AM came on a playlist dick had made for him and he was a goner. damian outwardly craps on them but when he’s alone, he listens to FOUR and MITAM, exclusively. he doesn’t think he could take them seriously as musicians if he listened to anything before then. damian likes liam bc when he tallied it up, liam had written the most of his favorite songs (i actually did this the other day, liam and louis wrote 23 of the songs on my fave 1D songs playlist) and liam is the “leader” of the group. damian really loves “if i could fly” and has even printed sheet music to learn to play it on piano.

duke - for duke, one direction has put out what he likes to call “certified hood classics”. he was familiar with their mainstream pop hits and has maybe even pretended to be a bigger fan to impress girls but he did geniunely become a bigger fan when he moved into the manor. like jason, duke fucks with zayn so hard and midnight memories is the shit for him. he enjoys “don’t forget where you belong” but his favorite mainstream hit is “kiss you”.

cass - stephanie introduced cass to one direction and while cass isn’t as obessesed with them as steph, she really does love FOUR. “once in a lifetime” is so calming for her. she finds a lot of the songs on FOUR are good for working out, dancing, etc. she also loves a lot of zayns solo work. niall is her favorite tho cause of his kind face.

bruce - in an attempt to get closer to his kids, he tried listening to their music and honestly did not see the appeal until like halfway through FOUR. steph once showed him a photo in their fetus eras and asked him hypothetically which one he’d let her and/or cass date if the opportunity ever arose itself. he said they all looked very nice. then she showed him a photo of them during the FOUR era, all tatted up, and asked again. he said either harry or niall. bruce’s favorite song is fool’s gold. steph makes an offhand comment about wanting to do everything in her power to get the band back together and bruce takes her very literally and starts attempting to make phone calls. the whole family puts a (reluctant) stop to it before bruce breaks twitter.

barbara - before she became oracle, babs was on the team of directioners who hacked security cameras to watch them at the airport, it was sort of her first foray into computer skills. she has locked that part of her deep in her soul but without it, she wouldn’t be as proficient as she is now. barbara has loved louis as long as shes been familiar with 1D and loves how sassy he is. her favorite song is “i want to write you a song” and her favorite album is MITAM.

[mochi-owos]

ੈ✩ My Crush is Like a Fruit?!

Obey Me (brothers) x Gn!Reader.

Your lover reminds you of a fruit? But which fruit?

Lucifer, the sour cherry.

Like a cherry he's refined, elegant, also like a cherry, he has his sour notes with a mix of mischief.

"Hey, Luci," You spoke up, walking behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as he sat his desk.

"Hello dear, something I can help you with?" He asked, placing a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb.

"Nope, Im just here to drop off some fruit, speaking of which, give me a second," You walk out of the room, soon coming back with a tray of fruit. "Here you go my cherry, enjoy." You give his temple a kiss, soon walking away once more.

But before you could leave he grabs your wrist, "what was that?"

"Hm? What?" You question.

"The," he looks to the side, "The cherry part..."

You teasing smile, "Oh? Do you not like it?" That was a massive lie, you knew he did, but he was all to fun to tease. An opportunity has presented itself, and you're more than happy to take it.

"Just.. stay here a while," he looks up at you, "please?"

Mammon, the blood orange.

Blood oranges can be bitter, sour, even eccentric, and may not be to everyones taste. But once you catch a bite you may just become addicted.

For this date you wanted to do something fun, something different, you had decided to go fruit picking.

"ARGHHH, this is so boring!" Mammon groaned, holding the basket of fruit.

You chuckle, "Aw, yeah? Poor thing, you are." You teased, continuing to pick fruit.

"Why do we have to pick the fruit?! We can just but it!" He threw his head back like an angry child, huffing.

"Mammon, I'll be honest here, this is actually a lot cheaper, one thousand grim for unlimited fruits as long as we pick it? It's an absolute steal." You say as you struggle to pick a blood orange.

He smiled a little, "here, lemme get that for you." He mumbled, extending his arm and picking the fruit at the very top of the tree, he then placing it in the basket.

"Thank you my little blood orange." You kiss his cheek.

"Huh?! You're what? Ya' better stop!" His face scarlet.

"Hm, too cute."

"Stop!"

Leviathan, the passion fruit.

An odd fruit, and the look of it may scare some people off, but that shouldn't scare you away from taking a bite, you may like it.

You were watching Levi play a game, it was a trivia game. Soon the familiar fruit flashes on the screen with the big words "what fruit is this?!" You giggle watching Levi knit his brows together, mumbling a small, "the fuck?"

"A passion fruit, honey," you tell him, and watch as it's correct, you smile to yourself.

"Man, didn't know you were a fruit conisseur." He spoke lightly, still focused on his game.

"Baby," he blushed at the word, "we eat that fruit all the time."

"Ohh." He hums in reply.

"You know, you kinda remind me of a passion fruit."

"Huh??" He raises a brow.

"Did I mention passion fruit is my favourite fruit?" You whisper in his ear.

"HUHHHHHHHHH???" His face was unbelievably red, is he dead?

Satan, the bitter green apple.

Bitter, and ever so sour. At first glance many seem not to like it, but it's versatile flavour pallet compel all kinds of salesmen to use it to their advantage-- caramel apples, pie, juice, and even in salad.

"Satan?" You mumble against your pillow, your hand looking for your lover on the other side of the bed.

"I'm here, love." His voice was soft, your gaze peeks through your lashes to see him, you lover dressed in what looked like ugly green clothing.

You scrunched your nose, disgust filled you face and you plopped your head back into you pillow, "The hell are you wearing?"

"I decided to try a new outfit, don't like it?" He walked closer, sitting on the bed and play with your hair.

You stiffle a laugh, "you look like an green apple."

His eyes widen slightly, "Huh?? Really? Is it that bad?"

"Yeah kinda, don't worry though, I can get you looking like a cute green apple."

"Is that even a thing?" He caresses your face.

"It's a thing if I say so." You brush over his hand, giving it a squeeze.

He smiles leaning over kisses your lips, "Of course honey."

Asmodeus, the strawberry.

Bath time had always been you and asmodeus time, it meant relaxation, bubble baths, aromatherapy, and skin care.

Asmodeus spread a face mask against your skin, you could feel his soft hands, it was just so nice.

"You like that?" He tilted his head and smiled. You hummed in reply, he quickly pecs your lips then goes to put on his own face mask.

Once done he snuggles up to your side, the scent of strawberries pressed against the air. It left you breathless, how close he was, it made you feel dizzy, "You smell good." You whisper, your head leaning against his.

"You like it?" He wraps his hands around your waist.

"Very much so, my little strawberry."

He turns to look at you a questioning look on his face, but he too looked amused, "Little strawberry?"

"You remind me of strawberries, so youre my strawberry." Ah shit, that got him in his feels.

"Then your my.. uh, raspberry?" He shook his head, "Sorry, not very familiar with human fruits."

Beelzebub, the cantaloupe.

The flavour pallet isn't extraordinary, but is sweet mild flavour is just the appeal. A relaxing flavour, great as juice on a hot summer day. What more could you ask for?

As usual you say with Beel during lunch, and you watch him chow down on the mountains of food around him, "Enjoying that?" You smile, leaning against your palm.

"Mrphhhmm." His reply muffled by the tons of food, he looked as though he would soon choke at the pace he's going at.

Anticipating it you walk up to get some juice, melon juice being your final chose, you walk back to see Beel choking, you laugh handing him the drink. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, thanks, MC." He smiled going back to eating.

"No worries honey." You say back down, leaning against his side.

"By the way, what juice was that? I liked it."

"Oh? That was melon juice."

"Could I get some more?"

"Beel, you drank it all.."

Belphigor, the watermelon.

The flavour is mild and isn't overly sweet with all the watered down nectar, but that doesn't stop it's addictive taste.

As usual you find Belphie napping on the couch, with all the amount he sleeps he tends to not eat much, which is why you had brought him fruit from the kitchen.

Gently shaking him awake you try to tell him to wake up, "C'mon Belphie, I got you some fruit."

"Huh??" He says before inevitably feel back asleep.

You set the fruit on the coffee table, attempting to shake him awake a little harder, but before you can do anything your trapped in his arms.

"MC..." He mumbled against your ear, "What're you doing?"

You huff, "I was trying to give you some food. But here you are, tackling me."

"Tackling?" He ratorted, "Real tackling is what Beel does. This is nothing compared to that."

"U-huh, whatever. Can you just eat the fruit?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"You're an ass."

"Love you too."

"Fuck you."

[thecapricunt1616]

Blue Lotus - SxC Fic - Chapter 3

♡ Summary: Carmy actually has allowed himself FRIENDS?? Also- he gets to have like.. a normal day with Syd somewhat, outside of work, hanging out with people who aren't in any way involved w/ the restaurant.

♡ W/C: 6,919

♡ Posted Date: 04/08/2024

♡ A/N: Hayo ;D Here is C3 of Blue Lotus!!! I am v much like Carmy & got a alot of amusement AND enjoyment writing this chapter, so that makes my brain tell me I took it too OOC & I haaate writing these 2 OOC. So if its OOC I'm sorry, but at least it's funny LOL. The story Shayna tells is lightly based on Euphoria But the college version - so if you've seen it that's why it feels a little familiar - if you haven't seen it its a same vibe except high school so the father is much, much more disgusting. But I looove writing Shayna so much, I have friends like her & they are always the personalities to make you laugh until youre sore the next day - & Syd & Carmy deserves a friend like that so I gave them one! Without further ado, I hope you enjoy <3 As per usual this fic is inspired by Tucson that can be read here It was written by my lovely friend @gingergofastboatsmojito please be sure to read that one before you read Blue Lotus, also do give Ginger a follow!!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Talks of ; a near physical assault, blood, sex, transphobia/outing, self inflicted wounds, actually contains; smoking cigarettes/weed, drinking alcohol, vomiting, swearing

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

“Hey! Im Sydney- sure! We were uh…we were gonna cook- do you wanna join? I just got back from the store” she got up, shaking her hand. 

“Totally -  my god this necklace! Where did you get it?” Shayna asked, leaning in and looking at the pendant “and you smell so good, lavender?” She said. 

“I thrifted it! I love thrifting. Carm does too- does it so much he has to keep extra jeans in his oven.. oh! And yeah this perfume it’s inside. I’ll show it to you” Syd replied happily. 

“Your oven?” Jesse asked Carm 

“Yeah uh.. not enough space- um Syd these are my…” he trails off 

“Friends. Were his friends- therapy friends I guess. I mean I hope he holds his word and texts me when we get out of here” Shayna nudged Carm’s shoulder gently. 

He cleared his throat “yeah- uh-my friends. Shayna and Jesse.” He said shyly. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you guys, have you ever had deer? They sell it at the grocery store here, harder to get in Chicago. I figured we’d try this recipe I thought up a while ago” she opened the door to the cabin and Jesse and Shana went inside making themselves at home right away. 

This wasn’t the first time they’d hung out, they would do this a few times a week before dinner and then sit and eat together before going back to their respective cabins for the night. 

“Never had deer before - aren’t you guys like super chefs or-“ Jesse is interrupted by Shayna’s whining 

“Carmen you still haven’t asked for a wifi box?!” She asked annoyed, putting her phone back in the pocket of her cargo jeans.  

“No I haven’t because I don’t need one I’m not addicted to Instagram or whatever the fuck” Carmy said, taking the door for Syd and she headed in, him following suit. 

“Oh yeah I forgot Carmy the little old man who likes to hide away from the online world- you look like you take fire Instagram pictures, how do you deal with that loser all the time?” She asked Syd jokingly, leaning against the counter and watching as she pulled various ingredients from the fridge. 

Syd laughed a bit, a big smile on her face as she moved around looking through various cabinets. “I do…um- Chef-“ she said and he sat up from where he was leaning against the kitchen doorframe 

“Where do you need me?” He asked her 

“Onions medium dice if you can manage the knives here suck” she took out one of the small knives they kept for him in the drawer and set it on the cutting board as she began to pick the rosemary, putting the sprigs in a bowl. 

“What the fuck is that” Shayna picked up a mortar with a deep black goop at the bottom. 

“Juniper berries…found a juniper tree when I was hanging outside. Made sure it’s the right kind so don’t be worried” Syd said and Carmen couldn’t help the small smile that curled his lips. 

“You found a juniper, and you just.. remembered this recipe?” Carmen asked, chopping the onions as skillfully as if he hadn’t been out of the kitchen a single day. 

“Thats hot” Shayna says “you’re hot as hell bitch! Oh my god! You just saw a tree and were like ‘let me make up this super cute berry deer coquette dish’ ” she said, causing Syd, her, and Jesse to crack up, but Carmen was lost. 

“The fuck is a coquette?” He asked, causing Syd to laugh harder when Shayna said between giggles 

“I told you! He’s so old!!!” She squeaked, leaning against the counter and wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. 

“Coquette is like… Marina and the Diamonds on Vinyl, pink bow, fairy princess, Sydney in the woods picking juniper berries aesthetic it’s like..a vibe.” Shayna explained.

“Oh my god- it’s a girl thing carm it’s like. I dunno- like pink frilly shit and like- Lacy shit?” Jesse tried to explain. 

Carm raised his brows, scraping the now cut onions into a bowl. “So Syd picking berries what does that have to do with- what did you say- pink bows?” Carm questioned and Shayna rolls her eyes. 

“It’s the vibe Carmen, the vibe. Ugh you are no fun I can already tell Sydney is the fun one. What music do you listen to?” Shayna sat up next to Syd on the counter as she dusted the board with flour and started to cut the meat into chunks. 

“I listen to…well- a lot. My mom loved R&B so I still listen to that but mostly 90s stuff that makes me think of her, I love SZA, HER, Jhené Aiko, oh Kali Uchis! Khelani of course… frank ocean is so fire I really like his stuff too..yeah just a lot of stuff.” She explained. 

Carm sat there digesting every word she said, it wasn’t unusual for him to do that. He tried tucking the unfamiliar names in the back of his mind so he could look them up or ask Shayna what she knew about them later. 

“Oh my god- we have to chill sometime!! Do you smoke?” Shay asked hopefully and Syd looked at Carm for a moment before her eyes flickered back to Shayna. 

“I do. But…not when I’m working. Because it fucks up my taste and smell..but I am on vacation so…” she said with a small shrug and a smile. 

“Dude! Oh my god Jesse cmon I need to go back to my cabin” she got down off the counter “I’ll be right back” she said and they headed out being sure to close the door behind them. 

“They’re fucking?” Syd asked and Carmen laughed a bit 

“No- no. Where’d you get that?” He asked, beginning to peel the carrots over the garbage can. 

“Why did he go with her? Aren’t the cabins all right here?” She asked. 

Carmen looked up at her for a moment “oh- yeah. They are. Shay has somethin about being alone. Somethin about her childhood- she came here because she said it’s like…the good version of where her dad sent her. Whatever that means. But she can’t be out and about alone it freaks her out. I guess she went to some… wilderness camp? She went on about it in one of our sessions. They were…they were fucked up.” He said, putting the now peeled carrot down on the cutting board and starting on the next. 

“Shit.” She said, putting the cast iron on the burner, starting the flame with the lighter that she’d found on the counter. “Like…so they left her in the middle of nowhere or something?” She asked and Carmy shrugged. 

“Kinda like that. She said that they like…would hike all day. And then at night they’d have to pitch their own tents. They took their shoes at night so they wouldn’t try and run. They’d like- send pictures back to their family- and if they didn’t smile they’d get in trouble. Pretty fuckin…sadistic shit t’do to a kid. Dunno how her dad thought it would change her ways - she said she went because their views on religion didn’t align…” he explained 

“Wow…” she said, after a long beat of silence “she’s like..I wouldn’t have expected her to be so friendly after that. I wouldn’t be” she said, salting down the meat. 

“Yeah Shayna is…a character. For sure. But she’s really sweet, and has a huge heart even though she loves to bitch people out. She’d cut someone if they tried to fuck with me, though. One of the newcomers showed me that” he chuckled, shaking his head a bit. 

“What happened?” She asked

“So we were at lunch, and before that day we just..sat at the same table but didn’t really talk. She talked, but I would mostly listen. And um, this new dude. Justin? I think? Total fuckhead. Guys a tank too, like fuckin’ 6’2? No joke. But uh he was like basically screaming at his table, talkin’ so fuckin’ loud, so I looked over- and he met my eyes and just went off hes like ‘you got a problem little man? What the fuck is up with you, you got a staring problem?’ And Shayna- you should have seen her!” He laughs at the memory. 

“What’d she do?” Syd asks curiously. 

“Oh, she picked up her mashed potatoes- like - a fist full of mashed potatoes Syd- bare handed- and screeeamed at him ‘YOU WANNA FUCK WITH HIM COCKSUCKER?! WHY DON’T YOU COME FUCK WITH A BITCH THAT CAN ACTUALLY LOOK YOU IN THE EYE, SCAREDY MOTHERFUCKER!’  then whipped it at the dude. It hit him right in the face- eeeeveryone was dying we were all cracking the fuck up. I haven't seen him again after that, thankfully, but then she just looked at me and asked me for my plastic knife so she could get the potatoes from under those huge nails she wears and went to wash her hands like nothing happened.” He explained. 

Syd laughs and Carm follows suit. “Wow. Well I guess I shouldn’t worry about you after all- you found a temporary big sister, you should keep her around. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who would pelt another in the face with mashed potatoes for me” she snorts a laugh, setting the meat in the pan. 

“I would. Without a shadow of a doubt, when Marcus was yelling at you I wanted to fuckin knock him out with a pan-“ he stopped himself and she looked over at him, the only sound now filling the room being the sizzling of venison on cast iron and the tick of the wall clock. 

She blinked a few times, unsure what to say before the memory of the drawing came back to her. 

Just say it now. Why else would he want to hit one of his employees with a pan if not for feelings he hasn’t made me aware of?

She’d thought to herself. 

But Carmen on the other hand was thanking god that Shayna and Jesse came back, boisterous as ever- 

“Pookiesss We come bearing gifts” Shayna drops a bag on the table, as well as a pink speaker that was playing some Spanish music Carmen hadn’t ever heard before. 

“You listen to Bad Bunny?” Syd asks as she turns around. 

“YOU Listen to bad bunny?” Jesse asks and Syd smiles big 

“Who doesn’t listen to Bad Bunny?” Syd laughed “he’s like- literally I think the most listened to Spotify artist or something? Top 3?!” 

“Who is bad bunny?” Carmen asks as he cut the carrots into matchsticks. 

“You need to train your dogs better, Sydney” Shayna teased, taking shooters of grey goose out of her tote bag and putting them in the freezer. 

Syd laughs so hard she snorts, covering up her mouth with her hand and shaking her head. “You are fucking insane” she said 

Carmen smiled big, looking over at Syd. “Chef, did you just snort?” He teased smugly and set his knife down, leaning against the counter next to her, smirking. 

“I did- because your friend thinks you’re my bitch” she teased, turning back to the meat and flipping each cube carefully with the metal tongs that were next to her on the counter. 

Carmen’s mouth drops and his cheeks go scarlett, Shayna snorts a laugh, sitting at the table casually, legs crossed as she picked the stems and seeds off buds of weed, while Jesse howls with laughter. “Fuuuck-“ he shakes his head with amusement “wow. I uh…” he snorts a laugh “I get you Carmen. Get you better now” he said. 

“Okay- fuck you shayna” Carmen shook his head, unable to contain his smile. He’d never heard Syd laugh so hard before and witnessing it made him feel on fire. 

“Sorry I can tell who wears the pants it’s a natural talent of mine” she shrugged, “Jess come do this” she slid the little container of picked apart buds over to the spot next to her and he sits next to her at the table. 

“So you guys aren’t..like you’ve not known eachother before this?” Syd asks them. 

“Oh! No we did actually. Jess and I met at this program when we were 14, restart. It was a pure chance though that we come here at the same time.” She said and got up, washing her hands in the kitchen sink of the sticky resin. 

“That’s so cool - where are you from?” Syd asked her as she takes the bowl of onions from next to Carm at the island, their hands brushing for a moment which caused Carmen to nearly cut himself because his focus was completely lost at her touch. 

“Were from LA. Aren’t you from Chicago? Why are you here? I mean- like it’s great you’re great I’m glad to have a sane member of society around, it’s refreshing when you’re only around only psychos, you know? But uh..” she laughed a bit when Syd got started “you must be…pretty close friends” she looked at Carm for a moment before looking back at her. 

Carmen suddenly felt something akin to anger sitting low in his chest. And it had to do with Shayna. He likes Shayna, so he wasn’t sure what was going on. But, Jesse saw the switch in Carmen- and read it right away as jealousy. 

“Uh…” Syd clears her throat nervously, suddenly not knowing what to say. 

“Like what is it? Jess? We went to restart in Wisconsin so Chicago? How far is that?” She asks. 

Jesse gave her the cut it out eyes, but Shayna hadn’t been able to play matchmaker in weeks, she was gonna push these two together the same way she made her Barbie’s kiss when she was a kid. 

“I’ll guess like - 1800 miles. Soooo- oh! And don’t you have that restaurant?” She asked and Syd nods. 

“Mmhmm we run it together. It’s fine though it’s being held down, I finally got my new Sous trained and his sister is working a lot lately she wants to get everything all together before she has her baby so…” she rambled on, trying to pull out any reason that made it sound like she was unneeded there - even though that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“Right. I’m gonna go smoke would you like to come? I’m sure your…” she looks back at Carmen for a moment before looking back at Sydney “partner can hold this down until we get back?” She asked and looked at Carmen again, raising her brows. 

“Yeah- yeah Syd go. Go ahead go relax - got this chef.” He nods and went over to the stove, squeezing past her in the tight space, his hand brushing her waist momentarily as he did so. 

“Okay- okay sure” Syd nodded, following Shayna outside. She walked quietly for a few moments, lighting the joint and taking a drag before handing it over to Syd. 

They were about 30 feet from the house, Syd was taking a deep drag of the joint - savoring the taste since she couldn’t do it often, when Shayna said 

“You need to fuck eachothers brains out so he can go the fuck home. That- or tell him it’ll never happen so he can stay here for however long it takes him to break down and move on” 

Sydney choked on the smoke in her throat, quickly handing the burning joint back to Shayna and coughing into her arm. 

Shayna laughs before taking another drag, patting Sydney’s back sympathetically. “Sorry- people have told me I’m too blunt but I’d rather hear the truth so I give it to people straight” she said simply. 

“Dude! What if he heard you! Shhh!” Sydney said once she caught her breath. 

“Oh please! No! He didn’t! And if he did- he’d be leaned halfway out the door trying to hear the answer because he’s dying to know! You know he has the hots for you- please- don’t play stupid, girl” She rolled her eyes, handing the joint back over. 

“What - no- he’s- we’re business partners” Syd replied, shaking her head and taking a short drag. “He doesn’t. He’s just sick and clinging to me he’s - he’s depressed and I’m violating HIPAA or whatever by saying that but it’s honest! I’m not his type” She passed it back over to Shayna. 

She took it, laughing at her HIPAA comment “Chefs aren’t bound to HIPAA regulations, but nonetheless- I’ll be honest for you, since you can’t be honest with yourself. You flew here because you want to fuck him. There’s no other explanation- no not even just fuck- you love the guy. Why else would you fly across the country to be with him? Especially when he’s due home in 11 days. No dick is that great, especially attached to a guy on that many psych meds.” She said and took a long drag. 

Sydney’s heart began racing 100 miles an hour. She stopped walking, leaning against the fence, feeling like all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. She imagined this is how Carmy felt when Stardust threw him off. 

“Are you- what in the Hozier Adele ass fuck. You didn’t know? Or - realize- the L word? That you love him?” Shayna said, taking another drag of the joint. 

Sydney stared at the forest ahead, resting her hand on her forehead, shaking her head. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck.” She swallowed hard. “Um-uh I- I feel sick? I feel- I’m gonna throw up.” Syd said, standing up and quickly walking over to the large oak tree at the end of the rows of cabins, hurling up the remainders of her lunch which was just a McDonald’s burger she’d gotten on her way back from the grocery store. 

“Jesus Christ. It’s you too? What are you waiting for?” Shay followed after her, rubbing her back gently  

“What do you mean-“ She’s interrupted by a gag she couldn’t hold back. “Fuck. What do you mean what’s me too?” She asked, coughing and spitting the bile taste in her mouth on the ground before leaning against the tree to catch her breath. 

“Like- you and him both don’t even realize you’re in love. It’s weird as fuck. It’s usually one person chasing - but you guys are secretly chasing eachother? But also at the same time trying I dunno. One of you has to make a move though” she said, leaning on the tree next to Syd. 

“What if he’s just sick? What if he’s clinging to me because he’s sick and…and I’m like manipulating him” she asked nervously 

“Ahh yes because you are manipulating a grown man into not breathing when he sees you? You can do that? Can you teach me? Except I’ll use it to kill creeps” she nudged Syds shoulder, finally earning a smile back out of her. 

“He doesn’t do that…” she looked at the ground sheepishly

“When we get back, I’m gonna count out loud because the oblivious fuck hears no one when you’re around, and watch he won’t be breathing. I swear it’s like the first thing I noticed looks like a fuckin fish out of water.” She said and finished the joint, stomping it out with her shoe. “Shall we put my experiment to the test?” She asks and Syd rolls her eyes. 

“I wanna see what’s going on with the food let’s go” she smiled a bit, heading back with Shayna to the cabin.  

It only took them 4 minutes back, Shayna walks in first and Carm’s head pops up from his conversation with Jesse at the counter, and as soon as Syd pops in behind her- Shayna quietly starts whispering “one…two…three…four..-OW!” She squeaks as Syd kicks her ankle just enough to hurt. 

That was enough to break Carm out of his trance “hey- hey- how was your walk, y’okay? You look…I dunno” he came up to her, feeling Syds cheek with the back of his hand “y’flushed…” he said and she pulled away from his touch, feeling embarrassed. 

“I’m fine” she said, walking back to the stove and making sure the meat was okay. “What did you do with the beef stock?” She asked, looking over the counter. 

Carmy swallowed thickly “uh- sorry, sorry. Here” he went to where he put it in the cabinet and handed it to her. “We…we good?” he asked quietly. 

“We’re good. Get the juniper berries please.” She said without meeting his gaze and opened the stock, pouring some in the pan. 

Shayna giggles and Carm looks back at where she and Jesse were sat at the table, Jesse making a circle with his thumb and forefinger and thrusting his other finger in and out of it, alluding to their sexual tension lacing the room. 

“Oh you are children.” Carmen grumbles, grabbing a beer from the fridge and rolling his eyes “want one- dipshit? Cabin check is tomorrow they all need to be gone” he said and Jesse nodded with a smug smile. 

“You love your crazy camp besties pookie!!! Don’t play games cause your cool chef friend is around” Shayna said, getting up and going to the freezer, taking out 2 shots. 

“Syd?” She asked and Sydney turns around, looking at the shots in her hand. 

“Uh- why not. Sure. Just one” she said, taking one of them and cracking it open. 

“Cheers” Shayna says, clinking her shooter with Syds 

“To?” Syd asked. 

“New beginnings” Shayna said simply before tilting her head back and swallowing the shot in one gulp.

“That was the best fucking food I’ve ever eaten. Have you guys ever been told you should open a restaurant?” Jesse teased, helping Carmen clear the empty dishes from table. 

“Wow you really should pursue stand up, Jess” Carmy said with a small smile, collecting the 4 disposable cups they used for wine and throwing them away. 

“You know who would fuckin love her Carm?” Syd motions to Shayna 

“Who?” He mused, rolling up his sleeves and starting the hot water on the sink. 

“Richie. They’d be menaces together but they’d be best friends!” Syd laughs a bit and Carmen gasps 

“Richie!!! Yes! They would- but- Oh my god how is he? I literally- fuck. I’m so shitty I haven’t even really…like been thinkin about everyone back home other then like you and I- I guess sugar” Carmen said. 

Jesse and Shayna gave eachother a ‘we’ll discuss this romcom fuckshow later’ look, before giggling amongst themselves. 

“He’s- he’s Richie. He’s never gonna let me stabbing him go. Every time I tell him to do something he’s like ‘right away chef wouldn’t wanna get stabbed’ - he’s scaring the new hires, carm!” She giggled in the way that made his heart flutter like butterflies were smacking it with their wings. “And he keeps calling me cousin by mistake!! It’s getting ..really weird” she shook her head, sitting down at the table. 

“You stabbed a motherfucker?” Shayna asked impressed. 

Carmen laughed a bit “on accident” he told her 

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t feel good he was grating my last nerve that day. But I mean…he’s okay so I’m not that bad for thinking it” she smiled and Carmen laughed, scrubbing the plates with the sponge. 

“I would have stabbed this motherfucker but I just did one better and made everyone afraid to fuck with me. Everyone thinks this was a result of my attempt but it’s not.” Shayna showed off a long scar on her forearm, partially covered by a large dragon tattoo. 

“You did that to yourself?” Syd asked, slightly impressed but mostly a little scared, her finger gently rubbing up the raised scar. 

“Mmhmm. In college. I went to this party, this guy-“ she shook her head with a small, mischievous smile. “So he comes in the kitchen, he’s acting like a fucking bull so of course I’m staring at the weirdo, right? He looks at me- and he goes what the fuck are you looking at, bitch. And I was new, so I didn’t know it was his house. So I was like I’m looking at some meathead loosing his temper like a toddler, what the fuck are you looking at. And he just asks me who I am- and…” she sits back “I didn’t know anyone? Like…I went there to meet people. So I was like oh I’m Shayna and he just starts screaming ‘who the fuck is Shayna, does anyone at this party know a fucking Shayna?’ And he was like in my face. So I told him I was like I’m not trying to start anything here I’m minding my business back up and he goes ‘no one that looks like you is minding their own business’ and then he- he told me he knew what I was.” She said and shrugged.

 “ And that I just wanted attention. And that he would give me the attention I was looking for. And then? He told everyone in the kitchen that someone better speak for me or he was gonna fuck me up.- so, I grabbed a knife from the counter, and he backed up like a pussy and was like ‘I’m kidding! I’m kidding it’s a joke I’m fucking with you!’ And I asked him if he wanted to hurt me, and he kept saying no - even though I knew he was getting ready to kick the shit out of me, probably worse. So I slit my arm, and bled on him. Then I left. And no one ever tried to out me there again.” She said and sipped her beer. 

“You’re gay?” Sydney asked curiously. 

“Yeah but that’s- Jesus Christ these Chicagoans” she said, and her and Jesse started laughing. 

“What? What’s funny?” Syd sat up. 

“she’s-“ Carmen starts

“AHT!” Shayna tisks “no, Carmen, we got to make fun of you for a month now we get to make fun of her until she figures it out. I think you’re smarter though, socially speaking” She said and Carmen gives her the finger, causing her to laugh. 

“Oh- ohhhh! Wow! I wonder how he thought he could tell” Syd said and Carmen looks back at her. 

“Really?! How did you figure it out so fast?!” He asked her 

Syd laughs “oh because it’s the 2020’s and if someone says they were outed and it’s not about being gay, there’s only one other thing to out” she said and Carm huffs, annoyed with his own pitfalls of refusing to make friends his first 30 years. 

“Yeah how would he know? I didn’t know” Carm asked her and she smiled big, looking at Jesse. 

“It was fucked. Up. What you did. But if you wanna tell them? Gooo ahead.” He said with a smile, drying the dishes as Carm washed and rinsed them. 

Shayna laughs excitedly, sitting up and pushing her long blonde hair back. “Okay, so. I end up finding out who this guy is, right? And apparently…his dad who was the football coach was like- DL- into trans girls- “ Carm interrupts 

“What does that mean?” He asked her 

“DL? Down low, like- they fuck us in private” she explained and Carmen scrunched his brows in confusion 

“Why?” He asked and Shayna looked at him confused. 

“Because…they think it’s gay?” She said like it was obvious, but to Carmen, it wasn’t. 

“But… Y’re a girl. So how would it be gay?” He asked 

“I’ll give you a ‘how humans interact with eachother’ lesson later, Carmen, for now it’s story time” she teased.

 “Anyway-“ she continued “so I find this out, because I look up his name on Facebook - see his dad tagged, and I fly to Grindr- because I swore I literally saw him there. Turns out I had. So I send him a chat, we hit it off, I go fuck him-“ she said, Syd starts laughing, Carm turns around with wide jaw eyes and a dropped jaw. 

“Like- oh I fuuuuucked that man. Multiple times. He didn’t fuck me- let me say that again for your cis ears to have it sink in, I fucked- this man’s father” she said - Carmen’s jaw drops further, and Jesse was howling with laughter at Syd and Carmys shocked expressions. 

“No- no- Shayna- hold on I need a cigarette - Jesse take this shit over” Carmen pulls open the front door, pushing up the glass on the screen door, grabbed his beer and cigarettes from the counter, and sat next to Syd at the table. “Okay keep goin- I’ve never heard this much-“ he shook his head in amusement 

“Tea? I know- it gets better!” Shayna laughs. 

Carmen smirked, shaking his head and taking out a cigarette lighting it between his lips and taking a drag. “So you fucked this man’s dad.” Carmen couldn’t help but laugh at how insane the words sounded coming from his mouth- and Sydney followed suit, head falling back and eyes squeezing shut, Carmen’s heart quickened at the adorable sight, having the urge to reach out and grab her soft, delicate hand that was just a few inches from his own on the tabletop. 

“Oh my god- were taking them with us back to chicago- I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this” Syd said, stealing his beer from next to him and taking a sip. 

The action made Carmen’s heart skip a beat. The fact that she was comfortable drinking out of something his lips had already touched, it drove him wild. They had tried food off of the same spoon at work just so they didn’t have to go through the hassle of washing two, but this felt…different. More intimate. 

“Did you- I’m sorry- did you want one?” He asked “I didn’t think you liked beer - I thought you said you like wine more” he said and she shook her head. 

“We can share…right?” She asked, a bit shyly. She wasn’t sure what made her do it, maybe it was because her white claw had been long forgotten and now was luke warm on the kitchen counter, or maybe it was the few extra shots she’d been convinced into taking earlier that was causing her to take the chat with Shayna to heart. 

“Yeah- course, always.” He nodded a bit. Unnoticed by Syd and Carmy, Jesse and Shayna give eachother another ‘we’re gonna talk about this romcom shit later’ look before Shayna clears her throat. 

“So- yes Carmen, I fucked this man’s father. And multiple times. He was married- I didn’t fully know that though before you both look at me shitty- he didn’t say that -“ Jesse cuts her off 

“Ohhhh- oh! No!!” He laughs “no- the real story- is that she saw a ring but didn’t ask about it - you may now continue” he said, turning back to the sink and rinsing the last of the dishes. 

Carm snorts a laugh “evil. That is evil the man’s marriage! Shayna!” He took a drag of his cigarette and she rolled her eyes. 

“It was already on the rocks- let me finish! You fucks! So then- I recorded it, and I held onto it- just in case. But. Get this- one of my girlfriends on campus? Guess who she ran into on Grindr?” She asks and Carm and Syd both lean in slightly, and Shayna can’t help but notice the way they were already so in sync. 

“The fucking guy from the party” she said and Syd gasps, Carmen cracks up. 

“He’s his fathers spitting image. Thats it. That’s why- that’s why he said that to you. He knows about you or whatever? Because he loves girls like you and is also a pussy.” Syd said and Carm hums in agreement. 

“Exactly! Exactly. So…I had her tell him to meet her in the park- but…” she smirks and Sydney covers her mouth preemptively, knowing whatever was going to say next was going to be off the wall. 

“I was there too- fucking his dad! And oops! he saw us! And I asked him if we should check and see who’s bigger- he dropped out of school the same week- and the dad resigned” she said and took another casual sip of her beer with a proud smirk.

Carmen sits there, dumbfounded, looking to Sydney who when she saw the look on his face cracked up. “Your face-“ she said, causing him to start laughing as well. 

“Shay-“ he looks at her, wiping tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. “Shayna what the fuck” he managed to get out before laughing again, shaking his head. “You are a person that I won’t ever, ever get on your shit list if I can help it” he said, looking over quickly when Syd coughs from laughing so hard 

“Woah- arms up, arms up” he tells her and goes to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and coming back quickly, opening the cap and handing it to her. She took a large sip. 

“Thank you- sorry- fuck you Shayna you’re gonna kill us both I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh this hard” she said and Shayna smiled 

“Well, that’s a good thing. this guys got a problem with having the dead inside look- at least before you got here” she nudged Carm with her elbow. 

He realized he was still stood, hand protectively on the back of Syds chair looking down at her as if she was the only one in the room. 

“Isn’t that why we’re all here?” Jesse countered, sitting in the empty chair next to Shayna 

“I’m very alive inside- I just get too manic and start destroying my life because it’s something to do” she said and finished off her beer. “I’m already on probation cmon I need to go to my cabin and you aren’t allowed to have fun without me” she told Jesse, standing up and grabbing her bag and speaker. “Nice to meet you, Sydney. And Remember our chat hot stuff” she said as she put her bag on her shoulder. 

“Yeah- we’ll probably run into each other again, I leave Sunday night.” She said, and Carmen’s heart soars. 

He wasn’t sure why, he just thought maybe she’d just fly in for one night to see how he was and then leave the next day, but the fact she was staying a whole other day and a half- and they would be alone. 

“Sick! Okay well we’ll link up tomorrow then, have a goodnight guys - and remember wrap it before you tap it, shortstack!” Shayna said as her and Jesse shut the door behind them and head off. 

Carmen blushed pink, shaking his head. “She’s a hack, but she’s a very nice hack” Carm said, rubbing over his face embarrassedly. 

“They’re super cool Carm. She’s..really fuckin out there but-“ she shrugged looking at the clock. “Oh- shit. Fuck- it is late, I don’t want you to get in trouble” she said, standing up and grabbing her coat off the back of her chair. 

“You- you aren’t um…staying?” He asked and got up, grabbing her backpack she’d brought with her from the kitchen table and bringing it over. 

“Oh well all of my- stuff..” she trailed off, eyes locked on his. They stayed there silent for a moment, and his heart started pounding in his chest so hard he could feel it in his stomach. 

“Uh-“ he started and nervously bit the inside of his lip, he’d been doing that a lot tonight. He was holding his tongue, he always did around her. He didn’t understand it, because unless she was around it was like a part of his brain switched off, and he didn’t have access to speech in the same capacity as when she was near. 

“I- so…I think um- I-“ he stops himself, grabbing his shoulder nervously and averting her gaze. His throat suddenly felt tight, this was it. He either said something, or he let her leave and he stayed up all night thinking about what he should have said when she leaves. 

“Did you draw me?” Sydney asks suddenly. 

Carmen feels his stomach doing flips, his palms got sweaty and all of the color drained from his face. “I-“ he crossed his arm over his chest, tightly gripping his hoodie. He suddenly felt as if he could be sick, “I’m sorry?” It came out sounding like a question. 

Sydney felt insane “you- when-“ she smiled nervously “oh god- Jesus- I- it must be the-“

Carmen cut her off before she could say what would shut his entire course of action that he was trying to lay out down fully before he could attempt to put it into motion. “I meant- I meant I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. Syd. That’s how I meant it. I - you remind me of home.” He said, not breaking her gaze. “And I need a little bit of that, here.” He said softly. 

Syd just nods, holding on to the chair for stability. She wasn’t sure if this conversation was really happening or if she was in some insane dream. She could hardly believe Carmen was expressing himself to her, in a way other then anger or fear. 

“I..I draw you a lot.” He admits, running a nervous hand through his hair. “We do uh- art..art therapy. A few hours every day” 

“Can I…see them? If…if that’s okay?” She questioned. 

The color came back to Carmen’s face full force, he had to be sure whichever sketchbooks he would show her had none of the explicit themed drawings. “Uh- sure. Sure…gimme a sec- I’ll um” he headed to the bedroom, opening the desk drawer and grabbing the bigger sketchbook he usually took to art therapy, the safest one since the therapist would come and look at whatever the patients were working on.  

He quickly flicked through it to make sure, before heading back out to the living room where Syd had sat on the couch when he went to retrieve the sketchbook. “I’m- sorry…sorry if this is like. Weird-“ he said, feeling suddenly Insecure about his hobby that was the reprieve that got him through any of the sleepless nights he had here. 

“No- no its..it’s sweet Carm, can I?” She asked, grabbing the sketchbook in his lap, their hands brushing lightly. He felt that familiar fire in his chest, and nods with a hum of agreement. 

She opened it, eyebrows raising in surprise “they aren’t like-“ he started 

“This is incredible-“ she cut him off and leaned over him, turning on the lamp at his side to get a better look at the portrait he had committed to memory of her smiling. He nearly shivered when her curls brushed his cheek, the smell of the perfume on her neck mixed with the familiar scent of her causing goosebumps to appear over his flesh. 

“I don’t know if I should be offended that you remember the gap in my teeth so well. Because I know for a fact you aren’t on Instagram” she said. He smiled, rolling his eyes slightly 

“It’s one of your nicest qualities” he shrugged a bit. 

“Oh one of them? Are there many?” She smiled, flipping the page.

“I think the question should be if you have any flaws” he said, and her eyes flicked back to his. 

They were now sitting so close that their faces were less then a foot apart. “I think we both know that’s bullshit.” She said 

“To you maybe” his eyes flickered to her lips momentarily. 

“I always catch you doing that” she teased, smiling a bit. 

“Doing what?” He asked, his eyes meeting hers again. 

“I dunno…staring at me..like..” she looks at his lips for a long moment before meeting his gaze once again. 

“Why do you think?” He asked quietly. 

“There are alot of things I can’t seem to figure out about you…Carmy” she said just above a whisper. 

“Well what do you want to know. I’m uh…trying to be more open.” He said equally as soft. 

“Do you know why I really came here?” She asked 

“Because you saw the fuckin drawing, somehow.” He smiled a bit. 

“Yes” she chuckled “but- it just..it kinda confirmed something for me I dunno- I just wanted to come check if maybe-“ 

She’s interrupted by his lips on hers, she was surprised at first, but of course didn’t pull away. He cupped her cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over her supple skin. 

The way their lips moved together was natural, like they’d done this already a thousand times in a hundred lives. His nose gently nudges hers and she wraps her fingers in his dirty blonde curls, tugging gently how she’d fantasized so many times. 

He slid his tongue over her plump bottom lip, humming softly when she opened her mouth at the contact. His hands were nearly shaking. His entire body felt like it was exploding with tiny fireworks underneath his skin. 

The air between them both felt as if it was crackling with electricity. As if the universe was humming in approval that they had finally accepted their bond. 

Sydney had never felt anything so right. She felt as if every stress in her life evaporated, as if her and Carmy were the only 2 people in the world. She felt like she was glowing from the inside out.  “T’make sure I wanted t’do that…right?” He said softly when she pulled away. 

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡ ⋙

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapters #00-01

all | next

lets fucking do this

I'm annotating every chapter of trigun, both the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read). Literally just writing down everything I notice about details, version differences, translation notes, etc. and also being gay about the characters. happy pride month

I had other stuff to do today yesterday so I only got through a little bit but pace will pick up tomorrow today (1 volume/week is faster than i thought...)

Here are the beloved non-analysis sillies...

And there are just so many annotation images so I just put the rest under the cut <3 read my notes boy

[edit: why aren't the images not being side by side like i want them to i hate this. here's the url for my blog page with correct formatting] [edit 2: i guess it's only on desktop, not on mobile. so that's good]

First thing I noticed was the difference in the number of volumes, or the number of chapters in each volume. In my JP copy, volume 1 ends at Chapter #07: Rem, while Overhaul (and I assume every version after the first JP print) ends at #12: River of Life.

Anyways onto the actual images

21st of July - !! didn't notice [that the July incident actually happened in July] during 1st read b/c months are only numbers in Japanese 11 hours after destruction - July incident was 2am

For some reason I thought he was standing this whole time. unneccesary details georg

Estimated age: 24 - Official age for his appearance? dang he's young Appearance - "Place of origin/birth," not "what he looks like" The worst kind of outlaw, and an unrivalled killer. - Added in a later version? (not in my JP copy but the phrase is familiar)

This blank space originally had the Japanese translation for the board.

We see his serious expression already! I don't remember '98 doing so this early on so it's pretty notable to me...

Just thinking about how Vash counted each individual gunshot being fired during all that chaos... dear god.... During my first read/watch I thought it was just silly Rule of Cool protagonist moment but not really. This guy actually has Insane perception, either from being a plant or sheer practice. Or both.

Also immediately after all that, I really love the way the aftermath is shown here. The only things you can hear are the creaks of the light and the crying boy. It really brings out the tension in the atmosphere.

Finally, something other than unneccesary bits! If you look at the flooring under the toy gun, the perspective lines are pointing SW-NE. This corresponds to the flooring on Vash's right, whose right arm is also suspiciously out-of-frame... This is definitely the moment he took the toy gun. I can't express the amount of Holy Shit I felt when I realized this. The detail!!!!! man!!!!!!!!!

There's a little translation error here - it should be something like "Even if he were still alive, he wouldn't be able to move an inch!"

One of my favorite Vash moves with one of my favorite Tumblr heritage posts.

This is not really based on any drawn details, but I think this is the moment that Vash readies the toy gun, puts it in his pocket, and picks up the ketchup. Do Not trust this man when his arm is not visible. Also finger still in gun <3 doing his part blocking one bullet at a time

And here we have Vash's first COOL cool moment!!!!!! cue my homo screaming. goddddddddd im so mentally unwell about him. agh I also absolutely love when Nightow does that thing where he screen-tones a character's skin just because. It pops!! It's unique!! I love it!! I eat it up every time!!!

Here's where I realize that Vash's hair antennae are pointing straight up. I should be on the lookout for when he makes the transition to the M-shaped antennae we know and love.

Also, a little untranslatable joke from the Japanese version. In Japanese, this guy calls out at Vash like "And you, don't provoke him!" except it's written with the kanji for "Hunter" (狩人 karyūdo), with a ruby pronunciation note saying "you" (おまえも omaemo). These kanji/ruby mismatch jokes are never not funny and it's so sad that there's no way to keep them in without doing...this lol

The "I counted!" reveal never fails to get me. holy shit. I love the little boy's expression when he gets his gun back :) You helped!!! and you don't have to have the real deal to be cool as balls!!!

Just lumping this with the previous two because it's a tall image, but another small translation error. Rather than being about doing harm, he's talking about recieving it (～～はゴメンだ is a hard-to-catch phrasing/idiom; it's already been discussed with the translator on a different instance). It should be more like "[...But] nobody likes getting hurt, right?"

THE GIRLIES YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not including the dialogue because. y'know. At least they get (accidentally) Bonked by Millie :) get their asses

Here, the order suggestion is made by somebody off-screen, but in the first edition, it was made by the cook himself. (left image annotation says "the storekeeper(cook) is so nice!")

That's it for chapters #00-01! I'm going to keep having Category 5 Autism Events every day aren't I.

It's literally 1:20am as of finishing this post because my computer won't stop crashing. Posting this first thing in the morning tomorrow <3

Also, the Japanese copy of the annotations will be in the reblogs for anyone who wants to see them. The emotions are Rawer and they're phrased way less awkwardly... if you can read them lol

[sodrippy]

one of these days i need the full story of your dnd mishap

😭😭😭 please

the short story is our party had three people (2 players + DM) who thought we were playing a fun friendly magical campaign and two people who wanted to recreate a critical role campaign amongst themselves...i think if youre familiar w cr you might immediately see the issue there.

long story is people put WAY way too much personal shit into their characters and almost immediately started taking the actions of characters as genuine irl slights and like. two sessions in had already lost sight of the difference between the pc and the player.

oh shit this got really long im sorry i dont think you care This much but i havent thought about it in a while and it bewilders me every time-

SO i was playing a cunty rogue and had TOLD everyone 'hey she is probably gonna clash w the party at first, but she'll warm up to everyone really fast, so dont worry about that' like it was clearly in the spirit of building a realistic character who had her own hangups etc. which i assumed the others would understand bc they'd done the same. plus is it not boring and unreal asf if a bunch of strangers meet after a murder of someone close to them and all just get along immediately w no suspicions or secrecy? cmon man.

and yet. the two cr-people got really weird about my pirate character stealing (???) and sincerely pulled the dm aside to express their concerns about the 'level of violence being enacted' and asked that we all try to be aware of what class of people we did crimes against. like. they wanted me to stop stealing from the 99% and ask everyone if they were rich before i picked their pocket ig. ALL THE WHILE. ONE OF THE OFFENDING PCS WAS IN THE MAFIA?????? LIKE. DIRECTLY EMBEDDED IN THE MAFIA THAT RAN THE TOWN.

i suppose that pc was off the hook bc he did possess the elf cock that the other guy wanted so bad, so. love won. i guess.

anyway they ended up taking hours out of our sessions to just dialogue-rp about slowly falling in love in a complex way or something. except then the non-elf player was like 'actually, dm, can you give me a love interest npc i need to add more depth to my character.' or smth, to which our dm lovingly crafted a beautiful working class hero of a guy. which the pc proceeded to hard reject. what was the point of any of this? we may never know<3

need to be clear as well this was all happening over discord bc we all live in different timezones, my very close friend was up at 2AM for this bullshit every week. AND he didnt even KNOW these other people very well, but suddenly theyre finding fault w not just his character but him as a PERSON? i just rmrd they accused him of like.....negatively influencing me??? like. MORALLY???? brother we have been friends for 10 years you are nothing to us you dont know us like that lol.

but they did REALLY really hate my character, which eventually made me feel like shit all the time bc like. obviously im putting work into her, its a creative construction and to have it railed against that badly is not fun. so i said ok you know what, ill just make a new character, hopefully thatll keep the peace and we can salvage this.

so i pitch a new character and oh they LOVE her. they fucking love her concept. which was so.........the first character was a lot easier for me to play bc she was a little more like me, and this character was specifically the opposite....how am i meant to take that reaction, yknow

which also reminds me: the original pirate rogue i played was a tiefling (yeah yeah gay stereotype i know. im not subtle or original, whatever) and there was a complaint (made only half-jokingly, ykwim) that she was too white.

shes not even HUMAN what the fuck do you mean shes too WHITE. IM not white that should imbue any character i create w an inherent not-whiteness. but even still, again, she is half sea creature. shes not. human. to be assigned a race like that....hello??

anyway so these two cr-rp players eventually blocked me and my friend on tumblr without saying anything, and got confused when we found out and said 'yeah ok we dont wanna play dnd with some guy who has blocked us on other social media' as if WE were the weirdos. like they saw no problem w continuing this disastrous campaign as long as they got their mandatory monologue time.

the worst part is my dm made SUCH a stunning campaign and world and it was so so so fun outside of this mess, i still feel really bad they never got to realise the world fully. plus my character had a sickass backstory thing where she was like. slowly unlocking latent magic the longer she spent underwater bc her demon parent was abyssal and stuff. which is whatever but the sick part is she was developing SCALES and maybe GILLS. in like a nasty gorey way it was gonna be so cool. but noooo lets talk about strange morality and your lameass god for 1.5 hrs. at 11pm on a friday.

[heyitsspiders]

Bitten Apple ~ AdamsApple Fic - CHAPTER 5

Adam and Lucifer deal with their actions

Ao3 Link

a/n: AAAA IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! i've been getting back into a few games recently so i've been putting time into that and i've just also generally been less motivated to write so i can't be so sure when the next chapter will be out -- so please bare with me! again, so sorry this took forever

Aftermath

Lucifer panted heavily, chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He looked down at Adam under him, he was so fucking good like this with Lucifer’s cock inside him…

Wait…

Reality crashed onto Lucifer – he had just fucked Adam, the man who had hurt his daughter, destroyed her hotel and murdered one of his daughter’s friends. Oh good golly gracious he was the worst father ever. How would he tell Charlie this – should he? He looked back down at Adam, who had apparently fallen asleep, and shook his head – think later, remove dick now.

He carefully pulled his sensitive dick from Adam and began cleaning up and putting his clothes back on. Once they were no longer covered in cum, he stood there looking over Adam – what was he going to do? Lucifer didn’t want to just leave him here – he was the Devil, not a monster – nor did he just want to send him off to his own room alone. 

Lucifer face palmed, grumbling. How could he let this happen?  And why did he feel the need to be so nice to him now? Of course it could be just the aftermath of sex and wanting that comfort, plus it just felt wrong to have him wake up alone. 

“Urgghhhh,” Lucifer groaned before he waved his hand, comfy loose clothing appearing on Adam’s bare skin. Within another second they were both snapped into Lucifer’s bedroom.

He shouldn’t be doing this, this was a horrible man that had done so many bad things… But man, Adam had somehow had some good points in their back and forths. He had tricked Eve, even if he hadn’t meant to.

“I don’t care about them leaving me, I’m upset that you left me, dumbass!”

That’s what Adam had said, and definitely had meant it with how quickly he tried to retract that statement. Adam had missed Lucifer? More so, upset Lucifer left? He hadn’t even realized he had left the first man, he had Eve after all once Lilith got with Lucifer. 

Lucifer put a hand on his temple, it was too late and he was too drunk for this right now. He needed to sleep. He picked up Adam easily and set him on the far side of the bed and lazily threw the blanket over him before walking to the other end, put himself in his own pajamas and got cozy. It felt weird to have another person in the bed again but as Lucifer drifted to sleep, he quietly admitted that it was nice to no longer be alone.

Adam woke up the next morning from his bed dipping like someone was crawling out of bed – who the fuck was in the bed with him? He cracked open an eye and looked around. This was not his fucking room. Where was he??? He sat up, dull pain flowing through his body, and looked around.

“Goodmorning,” a voice to his left said, his head swung around only to be met with Lucifer’s dumb face. 

“What- why- what the fuck?” Adam stumbled for the right words, where was he, why were there so many fucking ducks around the room and why was Lucifer getting out of the same bed as Adam? Also, why were Adam’s clothes different?

“Do-” Lucifer started and quickly closed his mouth. He looked around again as if he was looking to see if someone was around before he spoke again, “...do you not remember last night?”

“No?” Adam scrapped his mind for the previous night's events, a hand to his head. 

“Well,” Lucifer tugged at the collar of some weird ass set of clothes that had fucking ducks on them? What was this man’s obsession with ducks? “I made you quite a few drinks and we both got really drunk.”

That sounded familiar, his memory was slowly trickling back to him. Lucifer made him some actually good drinks, they drank a lot, then they talked… He felt like he was missing a big important part that explained why the fuck he had slept with Lucifer. 

The last piece of the puzzle clicked – holy shit he had actually slept with Lucifer. His face grew extremely hot.

“Oh my fucking God, no, that didn’t- I’m not gay!” Adam protested. It was a bad dream, that hadn’t actually happened.

Lucifer sat on the edge of the bed, and cleared his throat, “uhm, yeah. It- it yeah it did happen.” 

At least Lucifer didn’t seem happy about this either – Adam couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing, like no he wasn’t queer but come on! He was Adam! Who wouldn’t like sex with the first dick! 

Lucifer avoided eye contact but still had that layer of calm – Adam couldn’t understand how when the man had literally been balls deep in him. Gross, Adam didn’t like that thought – “we can forget this happened.”

Adam nodded quickly, “yes, I agree. This never fucking happened, goodbye.” He swung his legs off the bed and made his way to the door – walking was really hard for some reason that Adam refused to think about for too long – before realizing he had no idea where his room was from here. 

Adam inhaled sharply, pissed. He would fucking figure it out on his own, he didn’t want to talk to Lucifer anymore right now. He pushed open the door and stormed off down some fuckass hallway, seething. Anger pooled inside of him as he recounted the previous night’s events, he was just so pissed off at Lucifer. And he was mad at himself too – why hadn’t he beaten Lucifer to a pulp? Why had he gone along with it? And the fucking noises he had made, Adam cringed just thinking about it. Worst fucking part was Adam had enjoyed it, even now he couldn’t deny how fucking amazing it had felt – but he didn’t dwell on that part for very long. He’d much rather not think about it.

He continued turning down hallways and going down the numerous stairways, shoving a few vases and lamps off their little tables to relieve some anger, until he finally stumbled upon a part of this maze mansion that looked familiar. Now he should just be able to take this left and – finally! His room. He shoved the door open before slamming it behind him, launching himself onto his bed and burying his head in a pillow.

Muffled screams echoed in the quiet room while Adam shouted into the pillow – this was all so fucking stupid. Stupid Lucifer, stupid drinks, all of it! He wasn’t gay, he didn’t like dick, he didn’t like men, he wasn’t a fag, he wasn’t gay– 

Fuck! Why did Lucifer have to fuck him? And why did Adam let it happen? Lucifer had given him an out, he had given Adam the chance to end that interaction… But he didn’t and he had no idea why. And Goddamnit he enjoyed it too! His face burned as he recounted how Lucifer pounded his ass so hard he swore he was in Heaven again. He violently shook his head and sat up, hands itching to destroy something. He was pissed and needed to take out his anger on something to take his mind off of Lucifer.  

Adam shoved himself off the bed and scanned the dirty floor for something he didn’t care about. His eyes caught on book – perfect, he didn’t care too much for reading. He wouldn’t miss it. He bent down and snatched it up into his claws, making quick work of tearing it into two. Pages fluttered down onto the ground as Adam continued ripping it, words becoming unreadable as they became shredded by Adam’s furious claws. Once the book was just a pile of scraps he moved onto another book, then another, and another. He wasn’t sure when he started shaking, maybe he had been the whole time, Adam didn’t know. His throat burned but fuck him if he was going to cry again – he’d done enough of that these past few days for the rest of his life. 

When all the books and other objects he wouldn’t miss were heaps of trash he finally stopped, panting and lightly sweating. His chest was heaving as his sharp eyes scanned the wreckage – this was so fucking stupid. Adam, reduced to a mere bitch for the Devil. 

Adam sat down on his bed, claws clenching the sheets. Was he gay? Did- did he like men? But he liked women! His children and time in Heaven proved that – he couldn’t be gay.. Right? 

It finally clicked – he enjoyed it because Lucifer was small and feminine. He didn’t like men, Lucifer was just woman-like. 

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he let out a sigh of relief. Thank God that issue was solved, though it did leave a lingering question:

Should he continue hooking up with Lucifer?

His immediate answer was no – why the fuck would he want to?... But also, fuck, game is game. Why shouldn’t he take free pleasure? Adam was stuck in this damn circus tent, might as well have a little fun, right? Plus, he didn’t have to worry about his actions making him a faggot – it’s a win-win in Adam’s book. Though a weird feeling lingered in his chest despite the reassurance of his straightness – is this really what he should be doing? Fucking the only person he has contact with because Lucifer looks close enough to a woman? Adam cringed, it sounded way worse when he thought of it like that – it sounded like he was some desperate whore for whatever dick he could find and Adam hated it. 

“Urrgh!” Adam exclaimed as he pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes as he fell backwards on his mattress. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why can’t this just be over like some awful nightmare?

Fuck this.

Fuck Lucifer – not literally.

Fuck everything! 

This is all fucking bullshit that Adam shouldn’t have to be dealing with. He wouldn’t be dealing with this if that bitch ass maid didn’t stab him to death. 

Exhaustion from his totally-not-a-tantrum started to set in, but he really didn’t want to sleep – he literally just woke up. So he just laid there, looking up at the ceiling and he debated back ‘n forth on what to do.

Lucifer paced around his room, fingers passing through every part of his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. Okay, he fucked Adam, huge problem. Bigger problem, he wanted more.

He stopped in front of his vanity mirror to look at himself. He had changed out of his sleepwear and now was wearing more suitable day clothes — a simple white collared shirt with black pants, Lucifer couldn’t be bothered to try today. 

“This is fine, it’s fine, everything is fine,” he lied to his reflection. Nothing was fine and he knew it.

“Things will return to normal, like it never happened. No one else needs to know.”

His own eyes bore into him as he stared hard at his reflection. He was pathetic. Lucifer sat down on the stool in front of the desk and leaned against his propped up hand, sighing. How was he supposed to look at Adam without thinking of his face contorted in pleasure and bliss? Lucifer’s face grew hot at the memory — Adam begging for more, for Lucifer. 

A sense of pride bubbled up in his chest — the self proclaimed “dickmaster” reduced to a whimpering mess under the very Devil he hated — It was too good. As the events replayed in his head and he laughed softly to himself, shaking his head — things would not go back to normal, and honestly? Lucifer didn’t care. He would enjoy this and he was sure Adam would too if his blissed out face was anything to go by. 

Lucifer chewed on the inside of his cheek, of course, there was the big possibility that Adam wouldn’t want that — which Lucifer could live with. At the very least he got to do it once and if that wasn’t Adam’s style then he can settle for just making him pay via other means. Lucifer chuckled to himself as he recounted how embarrassed Adam had been following his orders — oh yeah, he’d be just fine ordering him around until the first man learns that he isn’t as great as he thinks. 

He stood up, combing his hair slick back with his hands, he’d bring it up to Adam when he next saw him – which he figured wouldn’t be for awhile. He’d give him two days to recover, after that Lucifer is talking to him whether Adam likes it or not – Lucifer can’t be too nice to the bitch. Afterall, Adam deserved every crisis Lucifer was sure he was having.

The next two days went just about as Lucifer expected – he’d wake up, get changed, eat, and maybe even briefly see Adam, who would instantly turn tail when he saw Lucifer. It felt quite lonely and boring if he was being honest. He had grown to enjoy poking fun at Adam and watching him get all pissy but with this grace period he couldn’t do anything. Of course, Lucifer debated not giving him any mercy but he felt like this wasn’t something Lucifer could just bring right back up. Lucifer took to making another duck with his extra freetime – any resemblance to Adam was a total coincidence.

It wasn’t Adam! It was just a rubber duck with little lamb ears and curved horns and little spikes and okay yeah it was basically Adam – but it was merely because Lucifer was curious how he’d look as a rubber duck considering he is such a mashup of different things. You got some sheep, human, demon, bird and man-child. Quite the combination. 

By the end of the second day the basic shape was done – sure, he could just magic it complete but he really enjoyed crafting these small rubber ducks and adding every single little detail by hand. It made it all the more rewarding. It was late into the evening when Lucifer finally set the rubber work in progress down on his workshop desk to be finished at a later date. He stood and stretched with his arms above his head as he yawned. Tomorrow he’d talk to Adam and finally set this whole thing straight – or well, not straight depending on how things went. Lucifer rubbed his eye as he made his way down the halls to his room, eventually passing by Adam’s door and resisting the urge to barge in or at least knock. His hand reached out for the cool metal knob and twisted, the door hinges creaking every so slightly as he pushed the door open and walked into his own room. However, his room wasn’t as empty as he expected it to be, instead, there were a pair of brilliant golden eyes staring at him from his bed, causing Lucifer to jump nearly five feet off the floor – it was incredible Lucifer didn’t scream or blast the intruder’s head off.

He put a hand to chest as his eyes finally made out the figure on his bed – Adam. “Adam, what are you doing in my room?” He snapped.

Adam rolled his eyes, “calm down, bitch.” He folded his arms, “I decided I uh-” he swallowed, “that I didn’t want to forget.”

He blinked several times at him before speaking, “what?”

Adam scowled, ears pinned “I’m not fucking saying it again. You either heard me or you didn’t.”

Lucifer shook his head, waving his hands, “no, no, I heard you – I just, didn’t expect.. This?” 

He huffed, “the fuck does that mean?” 

“I didn’t think you’d want to as well, is all,” Lucifer said, shrugging.

Adam avoided eye contact, face growing a bit red, “so.. are we… gonna..?”

“Right now?”

“Well fucking yeah! Why else would I come into your dumbass room?” Lucifer grimaced – he didn’t like how commanding and entitled Adam was acting. He’d fix this.

He cocked an eyebrow, “and what makes you think that I’ll comply?”

Adam paused at his, mouth agape as if people saying ‘no’ to him or just implying they wouldn’t do what he wanted was new – which, it probably was. Lucifer shook his head, walking closer to the other man, “If you want me to fuck you then you have to ask nicely-” Lucifer hanked Adam’s horns, causing the man’s head to turn upwards, “-pet.” 

It was so much fun watching Adam swallow hard and try to recover from what just happened to him, his dazed and wild eyes, his burning red face, all of it like a treat for Lucifer’s eyes. He released his grip and shifted into sleepwear as he walked around to the other side of the bed.

“If you ask nicely tomorrow and behave then I’ll agree, but for now I’m very tired,” Lucifer stifled a yawn as he got into bed. “So, goodnight lamb.”

Adam just stared at Lucifer – for how long, he wasn’t sure. At some point Lucifer heard him slowly tucking himself in, grumbling to himself like a child that didn’t get the toy they wanted as Lucifer drifted to surprisingly peaceful sleep.  

Adam couldn’t sleep at all, his mind running five million miles a second with ideas and most notably regrets. He should not be fucking doing this, he should not have done this, he should have stayed in his room until Lucifer got bored and threw him out or something. Sure he wouldn’t last out there – much to the damage of his ego – but damnit if it wouldn’t be better than here… Right? 

He rolled over, now facing Lucifer – who was just somehow casually sleeping. For a brief moment he was back in the garden, laying next to Lucifer in the soft grass under the tall apple tree as the dark sky filled with bright stars, the gentle breeze flicking Lucifer’s golden locs back and forth. Everything was peaceful as they laid under the stars, Lucifer’s soft, warm hand in his until Adam blinked and he was back in the mansion, the stars, grass, tree, and peace gone in a flash.

Adam grumbled and rolled onto his back, a ripping sound behind his head shooting through his ears as he did – he fucking tore the pillow with his stupid, huge ass horns. He shoved the palms of his hands into his eyes as he gritted his teeth. Adam was suddenly hyper-aware of his new body – his claws, his ears, horns, fangs, hooves, everything! None of it was right, none of this should be happening… But it was and there was nothing Adam could do about it. He lowered his hands to his side, blankly staring up at the sheet that was draped above the bed.

There was nothing Adam could do.

Well, nothing Adam wanted to do.

He shouldn’t accept this, it wasn’t right and he shouldn’t stand for it!... But what other choice did he have? As much as Adam hoped, no one was fucking coming for him – they either thought he was dead and there was nothing they could do even if they knew he wasn’t. He was a sinner, a demon, nothing more than a piece of filth you eventually scrub off – but as much as he hated everything about Hell, it hadn’t been too bad all things considered. Even Lucifer, surprisingly.

Adam turned his head – much more carefully – and looked over at Lucifer again, still peacefully sleeping. Lucifer had been way less annoying recently and it was frustrating – it was making it harder to hate him when he was feeding and giving Adam a place to live. Maybe that’s why he had given in so easily, Adam wasn’t sure. There were too many conflicting thoughts in his head and he needed sleep that wouldn’t come to him – he was still fucking thinking about what Lucifer said to him. Adam hadn’t been sure what to expect when he told Lucifer that he did, in fact, want to have another round, but being fucking teased was not on the list. 

Before Adam knew it the light of the morning was creeping into the room through the small gap not covered by curtains. He groaned, he wasn’t sure if he had slept but if he did, it didn’t feel like it. His ears perked to the sound of rustling sheets to the side of him where Lucifer had been laying.

Ah, he was awake too. 

Adam could hear the other man sit up and yawn, presumably stretching as he did before sliding out of bed and walking to the connected bathroom. Adam sat up, rubbing his sore eyes. A headache was starting to form as his tiredness was starting to set in. Adam looked around the duck-covered room, it was almost impressive how many there were if it wasn’t a sad display. Adam jolted when the bathroom door opened once more, Lucifer coming out and looking at Adam.

“Good morning Adam, how’d you sleep?” Lucifer yawned.

“Like shit, hardly fucking slept,” Adam huffed.

Lucifer looked over him, “I can tell.” Adam opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Lucifer continued, “get some sleep.”

Adam blinked, “what?”

“Get some rest,” he simply restated. Before Adam could question his sudden tenderness he added, “you’ll need it.”

Adam stared at the other man, face hotter than the fucking sun as Lucifer just smiled at him. Lucifer clapped his hands together, his usual formal clothes appearing on his small frame, “Welp, I’m going to eat breakfast.” And with that, he walked out the room and was gone.