#so much was happening no time for kissing

[mattybsgroupie]

— matt spanking you

★ inspired by this ★

“ah! f-four!” your body joints forward as matt’s large, cold palm slaps your ass again. you tilt your head to the side, taking a peek of matt’s amused expression. he was loving every second of that.

a pout appears on your lips, a failed attempt to convince matt to stop the spanks since you had learned your lesson. “yeah, it hurts right?” you nod at his question, but no sympathy comes from him. “now get to five.” matt demands, and you whine before going back to your previous position.

the burning sensation soon took over, the loud slap against your soft flesh making it sting. “five!” you whimper, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes. “you’re gonna fucking cry now?” matt asks, a slight tone of concern in his voice. his grip softened, his hand now massaging your sore asscheeks. “should’ve thought about it before acting like a slut huh?”

“‘m sorry!” you respond, his sweet touch opposing his harsh words. matt clicks his tongue, his slender fingers reaching for your panties, pressing two digits against your soaked entrance. he rubs the fabric in a torturous pace, giving you a small break before finishing your punishment.

“can you be a good girl and do something for me?” matt spoke, stopping his movements. “you don’t need to count anymore, alright? just five quick ones, and we’re done” you nod desperately, chewing on your lower lip as you prepared yourself. he gives your butt a light squeeze before slapping your flesh once again, this time much faster and stronger. and he didn’t stop. 5 quick, burning spanks, that were finished just as fast as they started. “theeere you go.” matt praises, placing a small kiss on your red cheeks. “better remember how this feels so it won’t happen next time, yeah?”

[honeyncherry]

we never tell - joe burrow

summary some mistakes only happen once — others walk through the front door and say "hi" to your mom

content 18+, suggestive, angst

"Did you take the pie out?!"

Your mother’s voice slices through the kitchen, sharp enough to rattle the glassware. You jump, nearly dropping the bowl of mashed potatoes you’ve been absently stirring for the last five minutes.

“What pie?” you ask, half-turning, but she’s already storming past you, yanking the oven door open with the kind of urgency that suggests an actual crisis is unfolding.

“The pecan pie!” she exclaims, fanning at the billowing heat. “The only thing your Grandma asked for, and I swore I told someone to take it out fifteen minutes ago.”

From outside, your dad’s voice drifts in, relaxed and completely unconcerned. “Everything alright in there?”

“No, it is not alright,” your mother yells, slamming the oven shut with enough force to rattle the stovetop. “It’s burnt.”

Your brother, who has been supervising (read: drinking beer while Dad does all the work), slides the back door open and peers inside. He takes one look at the situation: the scorched pie, your mom’s mounting frustration, the way you’re gripping the counter like bracing for impact.

“Doesn’t look that bad,” he mutters.

Your mother whirls around on him so fast that he takes an instinctive step back. He quickly retreats outside without another word — back to whatever life-threatening experiment he and your father are attempting with the turkey.

The kitchen reeks of cinnamon, nutmeg, and impending disaster. The house is thick with the kind of tension that comes from too many relatives packed into one space for a holiday. The sound of football blares from the living room, clashing with your aunts' chatter at the dining table.

And yet, beneath all of it — beneath the burnt pie, the inevitable migraine, the impending cycle of small talk you’d rather gouge your eyes out than endure; there’s something else.

Something off.

It’s been crawling up your spine all morning. Clinging to you like static. No matter how many times you roll your shoulders, shake out your hands, try to shove it down, it sticks.

Because you’re carrying a secret.

A big one.

The doorbell rings. A welcome interruption.

“Can someone get that?!” your mom huffs while elbow-deep in pie dough, already moving on from disaster to damage control.

Your feet move on autopilot.

You pull open the door.

Robin Burrow beams at you, bundled against the November chill, her blond hair peeking out from under a knitted beanie. “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart!” she says, pulling you into a warm hug before you can even register the cold seeping into the house.

Robin Burrow, who has been in your life for as long as you can remember.

Robin Burrow, who’s practically a second mom.

Robin Burrow — who is very much not the problem.

She and your mother met in elementary school and never really drifted apart. Not through high school, not through college, not even after careers and marriages and kids forced miles between them. They always found their way back to each other, the kind of lifelong friendship that made family out of people who weren’t technically blood.

The Burrows were always there.

When you were little, Robin was the mom who never let you feel left out. The one who snuck you extra cookies when no one was looking. Who let you curl up next to her on their couch during sleepovers when the boys had long since passed out. Who kept bandaids in her purse for scraped knees, and kissed the tops of your heads before sending you back outside to play.

And there was Jimmy whose deep voice and easy laughter always filled a room. If Robin was a second mom, then Jimmy was a second dad. Miraculously, one of your father’s closest friends. Always at every backyard barbecue and every football game. All milestones your families celebrated together.

Then, of course, there were the boys.

You were always a little on the outside when it came to them. Not in a bad way, just in a natural way.

The Burrow brothers were thick as thieves, and your brother fit seamlessly into their chaos. You were the wildcard, the youngest, always just a step behind.

At first, it was all of them: Jamie, Dan, Joe, and your brother. A whirlwind of shoving and shouting and sprinting barefoot across the backyard. But as the years passed, the older Burrow boys got driver’s licenses, girlfriends, and jobs. They didn’t have time for reckless backyard football or pointless dares anymore.

Eventually, it was just Joe and your brother.

Their bond only tightened as the others moved on.

And you?

You were still on the outskirts.

Your brother and Joe let you join in on football games when they needed an extra person, but even then, you weren’t really one of them.

Joe was polite. Quiet. A familiar presence, never more, never less.

A fixture at every family event, a familiar face in a sea of familiar faces. You exchanged small talk: How’s school? How’s football? when your moms forced you into conversation, but it never went deeper than that.

Joe was your brother’s friend.

A name you knew.

A person you’d never really known.

And yet, your breath catches — because now, that Joe is stepping inside.

Except he’s not the same to you.

His broad frame fills the doorway, cold air curling around him like it doesn’t want to let go. He drops a duffel bag (no doubt packed for the annual flag football game) to the floor with a quiet thud.

His shoulders rise with an exhale, the muscles in his neck flexing before his hands shove into the pockets of his LSU sweatshirt. The sweatshirt hangs loose over his frame, but you know what’s underneath.

You remember it.

His hair is still damp, fresh from a shower. The sight of it sends a jolt straight through you because you can recall what it looked like last night — messy from your hands, sticking to his forehead, his jaw slack, breath ragged.

He was wrecked.

Because of you.

You remember the way he tipped his head back with a groan, the way his fingers dug into your skin, the way his voice cracked when he said your name.

And now?

Now, he’s the picture of control. Completely casual and unbothered.

He scans the room like he doesn’t feel the weight of your stare. Like this is just another Thanksgiving. Like he didn’t have you pinned beneath him, dragging desperate noises from your swollen lips.

He pretends his hands hadn’t been everywhere — gripping, teasing, taking.

Like his mouth hadn’t been on your skin, branding you, unraveling you, ruining you.

Your stomach twists violently.

Because he had.

You slept with Joe Burrow, and now he’s standing in your parents’ entryway — smiling, hugging your mother and shaking your dad’s hand like he wasn’t inside you less than twelve hours ago.

The warmth of the house turns suffocating.

Your mother gushes over Joe, her voice painfully oblivious. Oh, you’ve grown so much! You look amazing! It’s so good to have you home!

His eyes flicker to you. Quick. Too quick.

But you feel it.

Because the last time he looked at you like that, he was above you.

One drink turned into another.

A conversation turned into a touch.

A touch turned into his lips dragging over your jaw. 

"Tell me you want this." 

Your answer wasn’t a simple yes. It was a plea. A confession. A surrender.

Yet now, his jaw tightens. He blinks once and looks away.

Like nothing happened.

Like you don’t still feel him everywhere.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

a/n: i have lotsss of ideas for this au but send in any specific requests of what you'd like to see !

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑  ૮꒰˶˃  ᵕ  ˂˶꒱ა  ♡ bitch  is  back  with  another  pick  a  card  (omg) after disappearing  for  two  weeks lmaoo ♡

anyways, in  this  pick-a-card  reading,  we’re  diving  deep  into  the  moment  your  future  spouse  confesses  their  feelings:  how  it’ll  happen,  what  they’ll  say,  and  the  energy  behind  it. 

remember,  this  is  a  general  reading.  take  what  resonates  and  let  the  rest  flow  away.

trust  your  intuition,  choose  the  picture  or  pile  that  calls  to  you,  and  let  the  magic  unfold!

✧˖°.₊  ♡  ✩˚  ༘

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE ONE ﹑ ﹒✮ how  it  will  happen? you  both  will  already  have  feelings  for  each  other,  that’s  the  thing.  your  future  spouse  won’t  even  fully  realize  it  at  first,  not  until  the  connection  between  you  two  becomes  so  deep,  so  undeniable,  that  ignoring  it  isn’t  an  option  anymore.  but  the  confession?  it  won’t  come  easily.  i’m  seeing  a  period  of  miscommunication,  uncertainty.  maybe  even  a  quiet,  heavy  day  where  you  both  hold  back,  ignoring  each  other,  tension  thick  in  the  air.  but  that  tension?  it’s  the  breaking  point.  it’s  what  finally  pushes  them  to  spill  everything  they’ve  been  holding  inside  for  way  too  long.  when  they  confess,  it’ll  be  raw,  direct.  so  forward  it  catches  you  off  guard.  but  not  in  a  shocking  way,  more  like finally.  like  something  that  was  always  supposed  to  happen.  and  in  that  moment,  they  take  the  lead,  but  you  won’t  be  far  behind.  because  as  soon  as  they  say  it,  you’ll  realize  you  feel  the  same  way,  and  you’ll  confess  too.  they  won’t  sugarcoat  a  thing.  they’ll  be  honest,  clear,  absolutely  sure  of  what  they  want.  you  might  even  be  opposites  in  some  ways,  but  in  this  moment,  that  won’t  matter.  because  once  they  confess, they  mean  it. and  it  won’t  just  be  words.  they’ll show  you.  maybe  through  a  kiss,  a  touch.  something  that  tells  you  without  a  doubt  that  this  is  real,  that  they’re  serious  about  you.  and  trust  me,  this  isn’t  going  to  be  some  casual  conversation.  it’ll  be  deep,  emotional,  something  that  shifts  the  air  between  you  both.

✮ what  will  they  say to you? they’ll  tell  you  how  hard  it  was  without  you.  how  they  struggled,  unsure  of  what  to  do,  torn  up  over  their  own  emotions.  but  no  matter  what  they  tried,  they  kept  coming  back  to  you.  you’re  their  world. literally  their  world.  without  you,  nothing  feels  right.  and  they’ll  admit  it,  how  much  they  overthought,  how  long  they  held  back.  but  in  the  end,  it’s  their  confidence,  their  faith  in  what  you  two  have,  that  finally  pushes  them  to  come  clean.  and  as  they  pour  out  their  love,  it  won’t  just  be  sincere.  it’ll  be  vulnerable.  so  don’t  be  surprised  if  there  are  tears,  if  emotions  run  high.  because  this? this  is  the  moment  you  realize  they  are your  person  too.

✮ what's the energy behind it? pure  emotion.  deep,  overwhelming  love.  it  won’t  just  touch  your  heart.  it’ll  shake  them  to  their  core  too.  the  love  between  you  both  will  be  so  strong,  so  tangible,  you  could  almost  reach  out  and  hold  it.  i’m  seeing  a  gathering,  a  party,  maybe  even  a  date  night.  a  moment  that  feels  like  it  was  written  in  the  stars.  and  when  they  confess?  it’ll  be spontaneous.  because  they  won’t  be  able  to  hold  it  in  any  longer.  it’ll  feel  new,  electric,  like  a  risk  they have  to  take.  and  once  they  do.  there’s  no  going  back.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE TWO ﹑ ﹒✮ how  it  will  happen? time  is  everything  here.  when  they  confess,  they’ll  be so  conflicted.  emotionally  overwhelmed,  drowning  in  overthinking.  your  future  spouse  is  the  kind  of  person  who  carries  a  thousand  worries  in  their  head,  analyzing  every  detail  until  it  drives  them  crazy.  fears,  insecurities,  self-doubt.  it  all  weighs  on  them.  and  that’s  why  time  is  so  important.  they need  it.  they  need  to  process,  to  gain  confidence,  to  sort  through  their  emotions  before  they  can  finally  face  you  with  the  truth.  this  won’t  be  a  sudden  confession.  it’ll  come after  distance.  emotional  distance,  silence.  maybe  even  a  period  where  you  two  aren’t  talking  as  much.  but  the  moment  they  finally  break  through  that  wall?  it’ll  be gentle  but  serious.  the  confession  won’t  just  be  emotional;  it’ll  be deeply  impactful.  i  even  see  them  giving  you  a  gift,  something  meaningful,  something  they’ve  thought  about  for  a  while.  they’ll  be  careful,  mature,  calm.  but  underneath  it  all? anxious.  they’ll  wonder  if  it’s  the  right  time,  hesitate,  drag  it  out  longer  than  necessary,  letting  the  tension  build  before  finally  letting  go.  but  you’ll already  know.  deep  down,  you’ll  have  sensed  it  all  along.  they  won’t  pressure  you  to  say  the  same  thing  back.  they  just need  you  to  know  how  they  feel.

✮ what  will  they  say to you? before  they  even  get  to  the  confession,  they’ll  tell  you  about  their  fears.  their  confusion,  their  self-doubt.  it’ll  be  raw.  at  first,  they  might  not  even  say  “i  love  you”  outright;  instead,  they’ll  admit  how lost  they’ve  felt,  how  they’ve  been  struggling  with  emotions  they  don’t  fully  understand.  it’s  that  classic  “i  don’t  know  what  this  is,  but  i  know  it’s  something,  and  it’s  been  there  for  a  long  time.”  they’ll  be  scared.  scared  that  you  might  not  feel  the  same,  scared  of  ruining  what  you  already  have.  but  once  they  let  go  of  that  vulnerability,  the  energy shifts.  suddenly,  they’re sure.  their  tone  brightens,  their  words  become  steadier.  they’ll  tell  you  this  isn’t  an  impulsive  thing.  they’ve  thought  about  it, a  lot.  and  now,  after  everything,  they’re certain.  you  are  their  person.  and  in  that  moment,  you’ll  realize  it  too.  this  confession  isn’t  just  a  confession.  it’s  clarity.  it’s  proof  that  you  weren’t  imagining  things,  that  your  intuition  was  right  all  along.

✮ what’s  the  energy  behind  it? this  was meant  to  happen.  the  confession  will  feel  like  a  natural,  inevitable  step.  something  that  was  always  written  in  your  story.  it  won’t  feel  forced,  just  right.  the  energy  behind  it  is  hopeful,  almost  fated,  like  the  universe  itself  is  pushing  them  to  finally say  it. they’ll  feel  exposed,  emotional,  completely bare  in  front  of  you.  they  trust  you.  they  trust  that  no  matter  what  happens,  this  is  a  turning  point.  they’re  the  type  to  suppress  their  emotions,  to  hold  everything  inside,  but  not  this  time.  this  time,  they choose  to  be  vulnerable.  and  when  it  happens? it  will  be  intense.  bold.  you  will  feel  it  immediately.  your  heartbeat  speeding  up,  your  face  growing  hot,  the  air  around  you  shifting.  it  might  be  completely  unexpected.  maybe  they  show  up  unannounced,  or  maybe  they  just say  it  the  first  chance  they  get,  unable  to  hold  it  in  any  longer.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE THREE ﹑ ﹒✮ how  it  will  happen? ohhhh,  this  confession  is  dripping  with  jealousy.  your  future  spouse  is  not  the  type  to  sit  back  and  watch  someone  else  swoop  in.  they  will  act  really  fast.  the  confession  will  be  bold,  spontaneous,  and  rushed.  they  won’t  even  plan  it  properly.  it  will  be  one  of  those  moments  where  emotions  take  over,  and  they  just  say  it.  and  honestly?  it  won’t  be  in  a  straightforward  way.  you’re  going  to  have  to  read  between  the  lines because  they  will  tease,  joke,  and  try  to  act  too  cool  about  it,  even  though  inside  they’re  spiraling.  they  might  even  try  to  impress  you.  showing  off,  being  extra,  doing  *the  most*  to  get  your  attention. why?  because  at  the  time  of  the  confession,  they  will  feel  competitive.  you  will  likely  have  other  people  interested  in  you,  and  your  future  spouse  will  feel  like  time  is  running  out.  seeing  you  with  someone  else  will  push  them  over  the  edge.  they’ll  act  out  on  their  jealousy,  making  sure  they  leave  an  impact  on  you. and  trust  me,  you  will  not  forget  it.  they  are  not  shy.  they  are  charming,  confident,  and  they  know  exactly  what  to  say  to  make  you  stop  in  your  tracks.  expect  some  gut-wrenching,  utterly  unforgettable  words  that  will  leave  you  questioning,  “where  is  this  even  coming  from??”  at  first,  it  might  not  be  super  obvious  to  you  that  it’s  a  confession,  because  they  will  mix  in  humor  or  say  it  in  a  teasing  way.  but  deep  down,  they’ll  be  dead  serious.  honestly,  it’s  giving  friends-to-lovers  energy.  like  someone  who  has  been  hiding  their  true  feelings  for  a  while,  but  once  jealousy  kicks  in,  they  can’t  hold  back  anymore.  

✮ what will they say to you? when  they  finally  get  serious,  their  tone  will  change  completely.  the  words  will  come  out  carefully.  maybe  even  slowly  because  they  want  you  to  know  they  mean  it.  they’ll  tell  you  that  their  feelings  grew  over  time,  that  you’re  not  just  some  passing  crush  but  someone  important  to  them.  they’ll  make  it  clear  that  they  never  expected  to  feel  this  way  about  you.  at  first,  they  didn’t  even  see  you  in  a  romantic  light  but  something  shifted,  and  suddenly,  there  you  were,  taking  over  their  thoughts.  they’ll  admit  that  they  tried  to  deny  or  suppress  their  feelings  because  it  felt  crazy.  like,  why  would  they  have  feelings  when  nothing  romantic  had  happened  between  you  two?  there  will  be  this  element  of  surprise  in  the  confession.  not  just  for  them,  but  for  you  too.  maybe  you  never  saw  them  as  a  potential  partner,  or  maybe  it  just  wasn’t  something  you  seriously  considered  before.  but  in  that  moment,  it  will  feel  like  stepping  into  unknown  territory.

✮ what's the  energy  behind  it?   this  confession  will  be  a  huge  turning  point.  not  just  for  you,  but  for  them  too.  it  will  feel  like  a  sudden  change,  a  moment  where  everything  shifts  between  you  two.  there’s  fear,  vulnerability,  and  a  deep  realization  that  they  don’t  want  to  lose  you.  they  will  confess  expecting  rejection.  not  because  they  don’t  think  they’re  good  enough,  but  because  they’re  convinced  you  don’t  feel  the  same  way.  but  at  this  point,  it  will  hurt  more  to  keep  their  emotions  buried.  they  can’t  stand  the  idea  of  losing  you  to  someone  else. so,  despite  everything,  they’ll  take  charge.  they’ll  be  bold,  fearless,  and  raw.  because  if  they  don’t  do  it  now,  they  might  never  get  the  chance.  they  might  confess  when  they  feel  left  out  in  the  cold,  when  they  think  they’re  on  the  verge  of  losing  you  for  good.  that  is  what  will  push  them  to  finally  admit  the  truth.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE FOUR ﹑ ﹒ ✮ how  will  it  happen? this  confession  won’t  be  planned.  it’ll  slip  out  in  the  heat  of  the  moment.  raw,  unfiltered,  and  completely  unexpected.  they  won’t  even  think  twice  before  saying  it,  which  makes  it  unpredictable  as  hell.  it’ll  probably  happen  during  a  deep  or  intense  conversation,  catching  you  completely  off  guard.  one  second,  you’re  just  talking,  and  the  next?  boom.  they  drop  the  truth  right  in  front  of  you.  despite  how  sudden  it  is,  it’ll  be  so  romantic.  it’s  the  kind  of  confession  that  makes  your  heart  race,  butterflies  go  wild  in  your  stomach.  they’ll  be  vulnerable  but  somehow  confident  at  the  same  time.  maybe  even  a  little  poetic,  because  it’s  not  just  what  they  say.  it’s  the  way  they  say  it.  they’ll  look  at  you  like  you’re  the  most  special  person  in  their  world,  like  they’ve  already  decided  you’re  worth  everything.  i  feel  like  it’ll  happen  when  you’re  talking  about  the  future,  about  dreams.   the  cliché  stuff  people  say  when  they’re  deeply  in  love,  except  when  they  say  it?  you’ll  feel  it.  no  hesitation,  no  second-guessing.  they’ll  make  it  crystal  clear  how  much  they  want  you.

✮ what  will  they  say  to  you? they  won’t  hold  back.  their  confession  will  be  bold  as  fuck.  no  hesitation,  no  beating  around  the  bush.  their  attraction  to  you  isn’t  just  physical,  it’s  emotional,  deep.  when  i  was  thinking  about  this  moment,  i  literally  heard  the  conversation  in  my  head.  you ask,  “what  do  you  want?”  and  their  answer?  “you.”  deadass.  that’s  how  obvious  it’s  gonna  be.  you  might  think  they’re  just  joking,  but  they’re  dead  serious.  and  they’ll  prove  it.  they  won’t  let  you  brush  it  off  or  laugh  it  away.  this  isn’t  a  passing  moment  for  them.  it’s  a  move,  a  declaration,  a  shift  in  your  whole  connection.  they’ll  keep  showing  up,  keep  reminding  you,  until  you  know  they  mean  it.  whatever  they’re  thinking,  they’ll  say  it. 

✮ what's the  energy  behind  it? this  confession  is  a  turning  point,  the  end  of  one  chapter  and  the  start  of  something  huge.  it’ll  feel  like  this  is  your  person  and  you’re  theirs.  everything  will  align  perfectly,  like  it  was  always  meant  to  happen  this  way.  it’s  not  just  passion,  it’s  something  deeper.  something  that’s  been  building  up  for  a  long  time.  this  is  fated,  destined,  completely  unavoidable  (ugh,  i  hate  that  word  but  it  fits).  it’ll  feel  like  everything  is  finally  coming  together,  like  the  universe  pushed  this  moment  into  existence.  and  honestly?  it’s  going  to  be  so  worth  it.

[random-arcane-fan]

transcriptions below the cut

Arcane's relationship with League lore

I really don't know anything about LoR. The intent was to fill gaps in lore with Arcane, but stay mostly consistent. There's exceptions, certainly, we did have full support to tell the story we wanted and we wanted our characters' actions to feel consistent within Arcane.

Vi & Caitlyn

reply to AnComAlice: Ever since Vi came out in the game, I've always thought, "Why are you a cop?" Do you ever feel constrained by the source material?

Not in Arcane. I love telling difficult stories. Those are the best kinds.

reply to deebriedee: Will there still be "aww" moments between Cait & Vi even if a romantic relationship is established? So many shows have that one couple everyone ships but the moment they get together or the relationship is solidified by a kiss etc, nothing happens afterwards and I'd hate that.

I can't say anything about what may or may not happen. We are trying to tell believable stories based on characters' "lived" experience. That doesn't sound very believable to me?

reply to caitcupcakelyn: I have a question: Did Caitlyn falsify the release order on Jayce's behalf? Since when Marcus mentions it to Jayce he looks surprised, and also Mrs. Kiramman tells Kait that she has violated several rules...

Yes! She used the knowledge Jayce just told her about him becoming a Councilor, and the offer he made to become her "head of security" to falsify a release order.

not replies:

There are several moments in the season where Vi is surprised by Caitlyn and looks at her differently. The animators did a phenomenal job tracking that subtext with her expressions, but the storyboard artists also had a hand, giving Vi closeups in those key moments.

Vi mentions it in her first scene with Caitlyn, but the Warden was implying that they would beat Vi to punish her every time she would beat up one of Silco's goons that ended up in Stillwater.

reply to skyllianhamster: I was a bit taken aback by Vi's callousness at the kid Jayce killed. I imagine the context was regarding exposure to death, which Jayce hasn't seen much of, but I read it in the context of death as normal collateral damage, which sounded cold for Vi. Thoughts on that scene?

Vi doesn't show her real feelings about the boy's death because it doesn't help her make her point to Jayce. But when he's not looking you can see how upset she is.

Vi & Jinx

They were all children, even Vi. It was traumatic experience [sic] and no one can blame children for their trauma. What Jinx says is her own warped perspective. Honestly, they all need therapy.

Vi has put all her hope of saving Powder into defeating the villain she believes created her: Silco. She takes out years of pent up frustration and rage on Svika, whom she thinks is the only thing standing between her and Silco.

On why Marcus took Vi

Marcus felt guilty for how his dealings with Silco lead to the death of Grayson, and wanted to do something to make amends. Vi would've died if she went after Silco in that moment and he knew it.

On the words "god" and "hell" showing up in dialogue

I know there are beings in Runeterra that are revered like gods or goddesses so we are ok with characters using that terminology. That example wasn't in the script so it must have been added by Hailee and left in because the team liked what it brought to her performance so much.

On English being used

Practically, their writing is not English because our global viewers won't hear the show in English. Creatively, Piltover is a melting pot of cultures, the reason some things are written in it is similar to how we recognize words in other languages that have universal meanings.

How the hextech weapons work

The gemstone powered the rocket with Hextech augmented acceleration (similar to the Hexgates). It's not consumed, just like Vi's gauntlets and Jayce's hammer don't consume their gemstones.

Silco

Silco grew up working in the mines and has a little tolerance to the gas. He also knew it was coming, and the others didn't.

reply to Darkri97: I only have a few if thats alright 1) If the water itself is toxic and open wounds react the way they do like with Silco what happened to Vander's arm since it was cut? 2) Is there any concept art listing everyone's height? 3) could we ever see concept art of the whole cast?

1) The eye is a delicate organ, which is why Silco's reaction was so strong.

[nothing missing; if there were other answers, they're cropped out]

reply to thelittleworms: After Silco met and talked with Vi in ep 6. Did Silco really believe Vi didn't come for her sister. Or he told Jinx like that because h didn't want to lose her? Or another reason?

He lied to her to manipulate her feelings.

not a reply:

Silco wears make up in Act 2 & 3 to cover his scars. One way he tries to bury his trauma.

reply to TearsOfaStay: Hi Amanda. First, a bog [sic] thanks to you and all arcane staff for this fabulous show. I don't know you can still answer questions. Have you considered silco's character in kind of a father love for jinx or he just raised and kept her bcs of his aims for having zaun independent?

Silco has his own fear of abandonment issues and uses those to manipulate Jinx. Even though it comes from that twisted place, I think Silco believes what he says when he tells Jinx she's perfect and he loves her like a father.

Trauma

reply to miliamalae: Hi Amanda! The writing for Arcane is stunningly observant in terms of mental health, trauma and how difficult experiences shape people. Did you rely on some pre-writing research, or is it mostly your own intuition? Either way - it is absolutely incredible! Thank you so much.

This was a big team effort of both research and intuition. It's certainly not everyone's experience with trauma, but hopefully believable in the heightened reality of a fantasy world? Glad you thought so, anyways.

Vander & the kids

Vander knew the girls before. Mylo and Claggor's parents also died on the bridge and Vander took them in like he took in Vi and Powder.

Vi and Powder snuck out when they weren't supposed to and followed Vander and their parents. I don't know their ages, but I think we were going for Vi being about the same age here as Powder is in act one.

Viktor

We have a backstory for Viktor that wasn't made canon to explain how he got into the Academy. His parents saved their money to buy him a uniform and he pretended to be a student until he gained Heimerdinger's attention. Instead of punishing him, Heimer made him his assistant!!

Jayce's opinion on Heimer

reply to ELWINDS: hi amanda! when jayce decided to push heimerdinger off of the council, how much of that decision was based on what he ACTUALLY said in the council room (his inaction on fixing issues with zaun, etc) vs heimerdinger wanting to destroy his only hope for saving viktor?

This is my opinion, but in that moment Jayce was using all those things he mentioned as a tool, but all he really cared about was saving Viktor. If Heimerdinger wasn't going to use his power on the Council to destroy the Hexcore, I don't think Jayce would've done it.

not a reply:

Jayce has been dealing with the council through Mel to get his Hextech approved and to build the Hexgates for a long time. He's been frustrated with their inaction for longer than we see onscreen in the show.

Ekko

Ekko is a little older than Jinx, I think he's like 19–20. After Vander died he went around helping Silco's victims until they had a little rag tag crew of people like him who wanted to help. They found the tree and were able to slowly expand into the Firelights.

I think Ekko beat Jinx in that fight because he learned from his mistakes in the childhood game, and was able to predict and dodge her moves.

reply to Ronie_6: Hi Amanda! Here is a question that I think I haven't seen: Ekko's parents are alive in Arcane? Or is he an orphan? (In the Universe page he has a short story called Lullaby that mentions them, but in Arcane he seem [sic] to live with the firelights) Thank you so much for everything! 💖

Sorry, I can't answer this for many reasons. None of which I can share.

Just a collection of what I feel were the more interesting tweets from Amanda Overton’s AMA: 

Arcane’s relationship with League lore: 

(emphasis mine)

(I read the “consistent within Arcane” as “please stop bugging us over very minor nitpicks”)

Vi & Caitlyn:

(no offense but I interpret that as cop!Vi is absolutely coming)

Sounds pretty straight forward to me that yes of course Vi and Cait would still be romantic if they became a couple as she would consider the opposite to be not believable behavior. 

Vi & Jinx: 

On why Marcus took Vi: 

(LOL, no offense to Amanda, but I still think that that is a terrible reason/character motivation, to translate “he felt bad” to “I’m going to put a teenager in prison without a trial for 6-7 years” )

On the words “god” and “hell” showing up in dialogue: 

On English being used:

How the hextech weapons work: 

Silco: 

Glad to hear it, I was kind of worried they might rewrite him into somebody who was privileged somehow and hence being a hypocrite. 

(I read that as a “no” on “he was just using/keeping her for crime stuff” but on a “yes it is unhealthy because he is manipulating her because he clings to her due to his own abandonment issues”)

Trauma: 

Vander & the kids: 

Viktor: 

Jayce’s opinion on Heimer: 

Ekko: 

Just a list of topics she went “sealed lips” on: 

- people asking about how the League character of Camille intersects with the story of Arcane - people asking about more details on Ekko and Powder’s relationship

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

nsfw, read this to understand wtf is going on —> part one.

nanami knows exactly what’s going to happen.

the door to the archive room is slightly agape, and there’s only one person, aside from nanami, who could stumble upon it in the middle of a late night. knowing you are here, working late.

ino.

he’s well aware of the younger man’s quiet, lingering glances whenever you’re in the vicinity. it’s practically a game at this point—one that nanami’s become all too familiar with. the signs have been there: the way ino lingers in hallways, the subtle shifts in his body language when you’re nearby. and although nanami has allowed him the harmless flirtations, he knows this isn’t the kind of situation he’s willing to tolerate. not tonight.

inside the archive room, the air is thick with tension.

you’re pressed against the desk, your hands braced on the wood as nanami holds you firmly, his grip possessive as he pulls you closer, your back to him. the only thing that matters in this moment is the heat between the two of you—the way his fingers trail over your skin, the way his lips press against the curve of your neck as you gasp softly, barely able to focus on anything but the way he makes you feel.

“nanami…” you murmur, breath hitching as his lips move lower, his hands pushing you to the edge of control.

he doesn’t answer at first, his actions speaking louder than words. his hands travel beneath your shirt, his fingers pressing against your skin with an almost maddening precision. his touch is deliberate, skilled, drawing soft moans from you as you struggle to hold onto the edge of the desk.

nanami hums, a little dismissive, as his hands lower down your body, hiking up your skirt to touch the heated skin of your thighs, cold fingers making you shudder under him as you lean forward with shaky breaths. nanami leans with you, chest unwilling to pry away from your back, aching to keep you as close as possible.

you’re lost in him. you can barely focus on anything but the way his body molds to yours, how his presence swallows you whole. his breath is hot against your ear, his voice deep and soothing as he murmurs your name. groans loud enough for you to hear and pushes his fingers between your thighs so you gasp — loud enough for ino to hear.

but just as you’re lost in the pleasure of his touch, something catches nanami’s eye. he sees the slight shift in the doorway—the silhouette of someone standing just outside, too still, too quiet. it’s ino, of course. he stands at the threshold, eyes wide, caught in the act of watching.

nanami’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t flinch. he knows exactly what he needs to do despite how much the realisation makes him sick. he’d like to ignore everything and act like you and him are the only people in the world, yet there’s a lesson to be taught.

a lesson ino hadn’t learned the first time.

he keeps his focus on you, his hands stilling for a moment, drawing a soft gasp from your lips in confusion. your head falls back into the crook of his neck, unaware of the silent interaction unfolding behind you. nanami’s gaze hardens as it locks onto ino, his stare cold and commanding as he catches the younger man’s eye through the crack in the door.

the message is clear: stay away.

ino’s breath hitches in the silence, his wide eyes meeting nanami’s unblinking gaze. there’s no hiding from that look—the warning, the silent threat in the depth of nanami’s stare. for a long moment, neither of them moves. it’s a standoff of sorts, and nanami doesn’t budge, even as ino shifts uncomfortably, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

nanami pushes his hips forward and you whine, needy, adorably unaware of your surroundings, waiting for him to take you properly. you kiss wherever you can reach, making nanami tilt his head to the side as he allows you to suck on his neck, mark him. his eyes are still on takuma though.

two of his fingers, hand still nestled between the plush of your thighs, push inside whilst he rubs messy circles onto your clit with the heel of his palm. moan after angelic moan escape your pretty, parted mouth and one of your hands leave the edge of the desk to grasp his wrist, body twitching with burning pleasure. nanami kisses the top of your head, dirty words leaving his mouth as if he’s talking about work and not about fucking you senseless on the desk.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, ino pulls away, slowly retreating from the doorway, his face flushed with embarrassment. he doesn’t say a word, but nanami doesn’t need him to. the point is made. the message has been received.

only then does nanami turn his full attention back to you, and you, blissfully unaware, remain in his grasp, still trembling from the sensation of his touch. he turns you around as he shushes you comfortingly, your voice breaks the tension, breathy and soft, as you lean into him, your hands trailing over his chest, seeking more of him.

“nanami,” you whisper, the need in your voice sending a thrill down his spine. “please…”

he smirks, his lips brushing against your neck again, and in that moment, he’s all yours again. “don’t worry, darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. “we’ll finish this, just the way you want it. and no one will interrupt again.”

you have no idea what just happened. you have no idea who was watching, or that there was anything out of place at all. all you know is nanami, and the way he makes you feel, so completely consumed by his touch.

and that’s enough for him. he holds you tighter, making sure that tonight, you belong only to him.

[ashwhowrites]

Hi beautiful! I’m so happy you are back! You are the best writer ever!!💜

I was wondering if I could request a prisoner Eddie Munson x nurse shy reader. ( in prison for whatever reason you want) He gets beat up in prison and he goes to the nurse and finds her so beautiful and they flirt and feelings start coming up. He try’s to see her anytime he can, and maybe they have a kiss that leads to more like smut??

I love your writing! Sorry if this is bad!

I hope this is what you wanted (it leads to smut but not much of a smut scene )and that you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting!❤️ And it's not a bad request at all!! Prisoner Eddie is fun. Thank you for the love. Prisoner Eddie deserves the criminal love photo

Heal me, nurse

"BREAK IT UP!" An officer screamed as a fight broke out in the small cafeteria. Eddie ignored the officer as he continued to land punches across the other prisoner's face. The officers raced over to the brawl but didn't arrive fast enough to protect Eddie from the bash against the back of his head.

Eddie groaned as he fell over, his head pounding as three guys began to beat his body black and blue. He felt relieved when several officers pulled all the guys off of him. Eddie wiped his nose and realized he was bleeding. He could feel his eyes, ribs, and the back of his head throbbing. He was barely aware of what was going on as he was dragged to a room.

"All yours," the officer spat as he let Eddie's body drop on a chair next to the door.

"Dick," Eddie muttered to himself as the officer walked off. He held his body in pain as he looked around to see where he had dropped off.

"Let me help you to the bed," a soft voice spoke. Eddie blinked through his throbbing eyes as he took in the other person in the room. He groaned as the stranger helped him stand, he took the time to take her in.

She was insanely attractive, and he wasn't saying that because he'd been stuck in cells with random men and hadn't seen a female in ages.

"Where am I?"

"The nurses' office," she smiled, helping him sit on the tiny bed.

Eddie hummed, he didn't even know prison cared to have a nurse. "And you are my nurse?" He swore he's only seen attractive nurses in porn, and he couldn't lie he was imagining how she would look in a tiny nurse outfit.

"Well, I'm everyone's nurse. Now, what happened?" she asked. She sat on a small stool in front of him, her eyes waiting.

"Fuckers jumped me, and now my head, ribs, nose, and eyes are throbbing," he shrugged. Eddie was rough, and he could handle taking care of himself. He had done it a thousand times before. But the idea of this pretty girl having to check him for wounds? Yeah, he liked that.

She stood up and grabbed a small light, flashing it in his eyes as she directed him to follow it. She tried to focus on her job and not that this prisoner was insanely hot. He had captivating eyes, so dark and warm. She felt a blush creep up her neck as he stared right back into her eyes.

She stepped back as she felt the room grow hotter. She walked over to the small sink and wet a cloth. She walked it over to him and softly wiped away the dry blood.

"I'm sorry this happened to you and that the officers treat you like shit," she whispered, gently cleaning his nose.

"Nothing I can't handle, I'm a big boy," he shrugged, chuckling.

She tried not to shiver at his deep chuckle. She silently yelled at herself as her mind went elsewhere with his big boy comment. She dabbed his nose, his eyes never leaving her face. She felt nervous under his stare, trying to avoid eye contact, but she kept feeling this pull to look back.

Once she cleaned off his nose, she tossed the towel to the side.

"Could you..uh..unbutton.. your-" she shyly stuttered, her hands waving to his orange jumpsuit. She hated how nervous she felt around this stranger.

"Unbutton what, gorgeous?" he teased. He enjoyed how shy she was, and it was clear he was making her nervous. "This?" he asked, two fingers slowly unbuttoning the first few buttons.

She blushed deeply as his skin became exposed. She could see some ink on his pale skin. She moved without thinking, stepping closer as she took in the spider and demon. She held her breath as his fingers teased more buttons, but then his fingers landed under her chin.

She squeaked in surprise at the touch. Her skin was raised with goosebumps as she tried to sneak a deep breath.

"I don't think I heard an answer, darling," Eddie whispered.

"Yes," she coughed, "unbutton the top so I can see your ribs, please."

Eddie chuckled at her shyness, teasingly unbuttoning the top half of his suit. Y/N tried to make it seem as if she wasn't interested in what else was under his clothes.

She reached forward to softly touch the ribs that were becoming a darker color compared to his white skin. For the first time since she met him, she was focused on her job. Eddie couldn't help but twitch as her fingers trailed across his ribs and stomach.

"I think it'll just bruise," she said gently, tracing the small marks. She stepped back, "You can button up. I'll give you some ice to take with you."

~

Eddie was sent on his way, holding an ice pack against his ribs. He craved a hot shower, but he wasn't sure if he could even have one. He took the ice to his cell and prepared to sleep the pain away.

But only two hours later, his body was screaming, and the ice was melted. Eddie didn't know the time, unsure if it was early or late. Eddie decided to get more ice to help him get more hours of sleep. And the hope he'd get to see her again.

He turned the corner and noticed a small light coming from the office. He walked in and was pleased to see her sitting at the desk. He gave the door a soft knock to alert his arrival.

"Thought I should return this."

Y/N was startled by the voice, jumping out of her skin as she turned to see him.

"Oh! Thank you. Usually, the officers bring those back in the morning...are you even allowed to be out right now?" She asked, looking over his shoulder.

"And give those dicks a reason to see you? Nah. And look where I am, baby. Does it look like I follow the rules?"

She had to give him that. She stood up and took the melted ice bag from his hands and threw it back in the freezer. Eddie shamelessly checked her out as she bent over.

"What's your name?" He asked

"Y/N, and yours?" She asked as she turned around. He was much closer than before. His body was almost right up against hers.

"Edward Munson, but you can call me Eddie," he said, a charming smile on his lips.

~~~

It only took one day for both of them to feel something. Eddie constantly found ways to visit her. Sometimes he picked fights, letting them beat him as badly as they could so he could limp his way to her. Other times he pretended to feel sick or that he was going mentally insane.

She always greeted him with the same smile and gentle touch. He was happy the other prisoners always went for his ribs and chest because he loved watching her get nervous when his upper body was exposed.

He could easily tell she was attracted to him and he felt the same for her. Life in prison was just as hell as people thought, but she added some life to the dull building. She gave Eddie a reason to smile.

Y/N was a little worried about how much Eddie found himself in her office. Some days he didn't even heal from his last fight, bruises adding on to other bruises. She had to admit that he pulled off a busted lip and bruised eye very well. Selfishly she enjoyed his trips to her office. She liked his company, and the more he came, the longer he stayed. Something was forming between them, and it definitely wasn't allowed.

~~~

Eddie walked down the hall, clenching his stomach as he faked a horrible stomach pain. The officer dropped him off and left without a word. The door was closed and Eddie was a little confused. He turned the knob and welcomed himself in.

His girl was there, perfect as always. But she wasn't alone. She stood in front of an officer using a stethoscope on his bare chest.

"Breath in for me,"

Eddie watched as the officer seemed to enjoy the moment too much.

"Kinda hard when you take my breath away," the officer chuckled. Eddie couldn't help but scoff at the flirty comment, making his presence known.

"Oh, Eddie, hi!" She smiled, joy on her face as she turned to him. "Just one second!"

She turned back to the officer, eager to get him to leave. "Well we are all set. Everything seems fine."

"You'll think about tonight right?" The officer asked

Eddie slit his eyes, sending a glare to the man.

"Uh.." she looked towards Eddie, then back, "Yeah, I'll think about it."

Once the officer left, Eddie strolled into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Oh that's supposed to stay open," she said, her voice growing quiet as she heard it lock.

"Oh? Then why was it closed with him?" She shivered at the venom in his voice. Her stomach filled with excitement as a jealous look covered his face.

"He asked," she gulped, his heavy steps reaching her feet as she stood still.

"Yeah, what else did he ask for?" Eddie questioned, beginning to unbutton his orange jumpsuit. "Something about tonight."

Y/N ignored the burn between her thighs as he continued to unbutton his suit past his stomach. She cast her eyes down for a quick glance then back up to his face. Her eyes yearned to look back to his happy trail and see where it disappeared.

"He asked me about having dinner together,"

Eddie moved fast, softly gripping her hair as he yanked her head up. She whined at the burn, her knees getting weak. He slowly leaned in, teasing his lips over hers. She felt the room grow warmer as his breath hit her lips, her eyes begging him to close the gap.

"Are you wanting to?" He whispered

"No," she said instantly, "please Eddie," she begged

"Please what?" He asked, "you want me to kiss you?"

She licked her lips as she tried to nod her head through his grip.

"My pleasure," he said against her lips before he kissed her. She moaned as his lips worked against hers, firm and passionate. His hands gripped her hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue softly moving into her mouth.

She wasn't sure if she was allowed to touch him, her hands burning to feel his skin as his tongue danced with hers. She nervously placed her hands on his shoulders as she tried to fight back in the kiss. It was no use, though; he had all the power.

He pulled back, smirking as she followed his lips. "Get on that bed, baby girl." He whispered, stepping back as he stripped out of his suit. She scrambled to the tiny bed.

She held her breath as he stood in his boxers, his hard-on caught her attention as she shamelessly stared. She felt herself drool when his hand landed over himself and softly rubbed himself. The sound that left his body made Y/N clench her thighs.

"I'm going to show you who's really in charge around here."

She felt locked in a trance as he walked over to her. His hands were on her in seconds, easily taking all the material off of her skin. She felt nervous about the idea of being naked in front of him but the way he looked at her made her feel like she had nothing to be shy about.

His hot mouth was on her skin as his hands trailed down her stomach. She shivered as she felt his hand growing closer to the wetness between her thighs.

Eddie sucked on her neck as his fingers slid in between her soaked folds. She moaned out as his fingers slid inside her, stretching her open.

"Think you can handle my cock, pretty girl?" He teased, his breath hot against her skin as she began to rock against his fingers. She whined in response, her thighs turning into jelly.

"Yes, please," she begged, throwing her head back his fingers sped up.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[humanjarvis]

i learned from you

synopsis: while talking with your colleague, you realize caleb is the closest thing you have to a mother figure. 

pairing: caleb x reader, reader is mc tags: light angst, comfort, fluff, reader had a rough childhood, reader has a period, reader and caleb's relationship is ambiguous but he kisses her head once, reader questions existence, reader is kind of a crybaby, grandma josephine implied to be a bum in this no shade to her word count: 1.3k

a/n: i hope this doesn't read weird #imnotintothat i just keep thinking about how caleb fulfills like 6 different roles in mc's life. he is so gender studies to me

“What do you mean you don’t know how to straighten your hair? Didn’t your mom ever teach you?” Tara asks in genuine confusion. 

With your sandwich halfway to your lips, you freeze. Although you were close with your colleagues, you weren’t all that open about your upbringing, for obvious reasons. Before now, everyone had always accepted your reticence on the topic. They’d never been people to overstep, but you guess there’s a first time for everything. 

“I don't remember much about my parents,” you respond carefully. “My memory from before the Wanderers came is a little blurry, sorry.” 

Tara’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ as her cheeks turn scarlet. “I didn’t mean to—” she starts. “I wasn’t trying to—I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

You knew she didn’t know. That was kind of the point. Your whole thing was to move through life ignoring your early childhood, pretending you’d simply spawned into Linkon as a tween. But you couldn’t tell Tara that—she was sweet, it was an honest mistake, and she didn’t need your baggage at noon on a Friday.

Scrambling for something to break the tension, you blurt out, “I think she did teach me how to dry it, though!”

The peace offering is bland—to most people, drying hair is nothing special—but it works. Tara jumps back into the conversation, tactfully choosing to talk about her childhood so you could keep yours locked away in the depths of your mind. Crisis averted, you think. 

Except as the minutes tick by and Tara drones on, you realize the crisis is very much not averted. You’d brought up your “mom” teaching you to dry your hair to save you both from an awkward lunch, but when the lie left your mouth, it wasn’t your mother you were thinking of. It wasn’t Grandma Josephine. It was Caleb. 

Caleb had taught you how to dry your hair. It’d happened when you were twelve; a rowdy classmate had snuck up behind you and pushed you into the pool, leaving your hair a tangled, matted mess. When Caleb had found out your teachers were letting you go home early, he’d skipped his last two classes to be right by your side, running a shower for you while you sulked by the bathroom door. After you’d dried off and changed into the pajamas he’d left on the counter, Caleb came in from the hallway, carrying the same towel he’d used to dry your hair countless times before. Section by section, he’d squeezed the water from your hair, showing you how to without frizzing it up. “Not saying that ‘wet cat’ is a bad look on you, but I get the feeling you don’t want to look like that all the time,” he’d quipped. 

Caleb had been there for you for as long as you could remember, you realize. As you walk back to the Hunters Association, halfheartedly entertaining Tara’s chattering, the memories flood your brain: Caleb teaching you math. Caleb nursing you back to health when you had the flu. Caleb packing your lunchbox, Caleb doing your laundry, Caleb holding you through your first period. For all your firsts, all your milestones, and even the dull moments, he had been there. Your head spins as you stare at your desk, not even remembering sitting down. All your life, has Caleb been your only mother figure? 

You go home lost in thought. 

You stay that way for the whole afternoon, nearly forgetting about the movie night you’d planned for that evening with—you guessed it—Caleb. As you float around your apartment on autopilot, tidying up your living room and throwing on comfier clothes, the doorbell rings. He’s right on time. 

“Hey, pipsqueak,” he greets as you welcome him in. “I hope you’re hungry—I brought your favorite snacks.” 

You thank him with a smile, hoping his observant eyes can’t spot the way it wavers. Just two hours, you think. Two hours and then you’ll be free to question your existence all weekend.

The movie plays as normal. It’s easy to escape the worries on your mind with a fantasy blockbuster stealing your attention. It’s only when Caleb offers to make you a late dinner that the weight of your day falls back down to your shoulders. 

“No, that’s okay. I can just order something after you’re gone,” you refuse shyly. Having returned to your earlier haze of overthinking, you make a mistake. As Caleb moves to ruffle your hair, you flinch, dodging under his hand. The ensuing beats of awkward silence are all it takes for him to register that something is off.  

“...You just pulled away from me. You never do that unless you’re upset. Talk to me, pips—did I do something wrong?” He pauses. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you rush, throwing your hands out in front of you. “No, it’s just…”

When you trail off, he steps closer. “It’s just…what? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me,” he presses. 

“It’ll sound silly. And weird,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. 

“Nothing about you is silly, pipsqueak. Except when you’re actin’ cute for my attention,” he adds, gently poking your nose.  

You reward his efforts to put you at ease with a shaky giggle, finally finding the will to talk. “Earlier, Tara just asked me about my parents—wondering if my mom had ever taught me to do something.” 

Caleb grimaces. 

“And with Gran so busy all the time…and with her…gone…now… I just realized the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother figure is you,” you breathe, your voice breaking at the end of your confession. 

Caleb’s unreadable gaze makes the tears arrive faster. “It’s just…you’re everything to me, Caleb. You’ve been with me through everything,” you sniffle. “Every role in my life you could possibly play, you play it, and I didn't even notice until now. You’ve spent over half your life guiding me through mine, and I just feel so helpless. I don’t even know if I'd be alive without you, and—”

Your tears constrict your throat, forcing you to pause if you want to breathe properly.

Even though he knows now is a bad time to dote on you, given the circumstances, Caleb would rather eat glass than turn a blind eye to your tears. He quickly shushes you, letting you cry into his sweater, and the more you relax in his embrace, the more you hate yourself. You really can’t do anything without him.

Settling you both on the loveseat, Caleb rocks you for a few moments before he begins. “I didn't know you felt that way, but it seems like you didn't either. Look, pipsqueak,” he sighs, tilting your head up to make eye contact. “Don't ever feel bad about how you were brought up. I won’t let you keep stressing yourself out over something that was never in your control.” He pauses, as if weighing the consequences of his next words. “And if it means anything, which I hope it does, I thank the stars every day that the universe was kind enough to let me take care of you. To see you grow,” he murmurs, pressing a long kiss to your temple. “Any way you'll have me in your life, I'll be there. Never feel ashamed for that.” 

With your heart pounding, you peek up at him, hesitant awe on your still-teary face. He meets your gaze with a soft smile, softly stroking your back, and you wonder what heroic deeds you accomplished in your past life to deserve him. “I’m sorry for pulling away from you earlier,” you whisper, nestling your head into his shoulder. 

You don’t know how long you stay there curled beside him, but the moon is high in the sky when he next speaks.

“So…mother figure, huh?” he asks, voice mischievous now that your tears have dried. “Better me than anyone else. You might have liked her more than me—can’t have that.” 

Lifting your head, you swat his chest. “Caleb!” you groan.  

[prisjean]

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ late night confessions

synopsis: after confessing how you've never had any of your firsts, frat boy!caleb is there to listen (and help  ¬ᴗ¬) but he also has something to confess aswell?

tw: MDNI +18, p in v (use protection), virginity loss, fingering, cummin inside, oral, squirting, teases a bit, caleb is a bit of a groaner, your pleasure comes first!!

author's note: hihi lovelies! so sorry i took awhile to post, life has been busy. i wanted to make something extra long because i will continue to be busy these next few weeks so i dont know when i'll be able to post but thank you so much for the love on held close, it was my best work and i wanted to capture the essence on how caleb is hehe. happy reading!

the party was still going strong downstairs. music thumping, drunken laughter spilling out onto the front lawn of the frat house, but up here, in caleb’s dorm, everything was quiet. you sat cross-legged on his bed, picking at the frayed hem of your hoodie while he lounged back against the headboard, one arm slung lazily behind his head.

this wasn’t unusual. you and caleb always ended up like this after nights out. he might be the life of the party, but he never let you walk home alone. not when he could just let you crash here, giving the two of you privacy while his roommate was away.

he took a sip from his water bottle, tilting his head to the side as he studied you. “you looked miserable down there,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “don’t tell me you’re finally admitting frat parties aren’t your thing.”

you rolled your eyes. “they never were.” you take a sip from your water bottle that caleb handed to you.

he chuckled, setting the bottle on the nightstand. “then why’d you come? you know i wouldn’t have invited you if it meant you would feel terrible.”

you hesitated, tracing patterns on his blanket. “i dunno. just figured…well it’s college. i should probably try to enjoy it like everyone else.”

caleb hummed like he didn’t quite believe you. “uhuh and did you?”

you shot him a dry look. “i spent half the night dodging drunk guys who couldn’t take a hint, so what do you think?”

his smirk faded. “who?”

“relax, nothing happened,” you said quickly. “but that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”

caleb frowned, pushing himself up so he was properly sitting. “what do you mean?”

you let out a slow breath, you looked down at the floor. “i just… i feel like i’m behind.”

“behind what?”

“everything,” you admitted. “i’ve never had a real boyfriend. never had my first kiss, never-” you paused, suddenly regretting saying anything at all. “never mind. it’s stupid.” you dismiss your comment with a slight chuckle.

caleb was quiet for a moment. when you finally glanced up at him, you expected teasing, maybe some cocky remark about how he could “fix that” if you wanted.

but he just looked… thoughtful.

“that’s not stupid pipsqueak” he said finally. his voice was quieter now, more serious.

you sighed. “come on, caleb. you..you’ve lived. you’ve had hookups, flings, relationships or whatever you call them and i’ve had nothing.”

he gets closer and sits next to you on his bed, keeping his gaze. “and? why does that matter?”

“because,” you huffed, frustrated. “people expect you to have certain experiences by a certain age, and i just… haven’t.”

caleb’s brows furrowed. “who the hell cares what ‘people’ expect?”

you bit your lip, shrugging. “it’s just embarrassing sometimes. i feel like i’m missing out.”

he was watching you closely now, something unreadable in his gaze. “you’re not missing out on anything, pipsqueak,” he murmured.

your stomach flipped at the nickname, but you ignored it. “easy for you to say. you’ve had all your firsts.”

caleb froze but leaned closer, something like a smirk tugging at his lips, but it wasn’t cocky this time. he cups your cheek. “yeah? and you wanna know something?”

you hesitated before nodding.

“they were forgettable.”

that caught you off guard. “what?”

he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “i mean… there were moments. but i could never look them in the eye. i just couldn’t..” his fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, gaze flickering away. i always made sure i wasn’t facing them, like if i did, it’d make it real and something in me would just freeze.” 

he let out a short, almost self-deprecating laugh. “like some part of me knew it wasn’t supposed to be with them or other times i would call them the wrong name.. and it would be the same name every. single. time” his jaw tightens, now his gaze never left yours. 

your stomach twisted. “caleb…”

he shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. he ruffles your hair. “you’re not behind, pipsqueak. you’re just waiting for it to actually matter.”

your breath caught. “you’ve never…?”

he shook his head once, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “not in the way you think.”

the room felt smaller somehow, the space between you charged with something unsaid.

“you don’t regret that?” you asked quietly.

he hesitated, he huffs. “i think i’d regret it more if i gave my firsts to someone who actually meant something… and they didn’t feel the same.”

your heart stuttered in your chest, the weight of his words pressing down on you. but before you could say anything, caleb just gave you a lazy, lopsided smile, like he hadn’t just dropped a big piece of his life on you. he grazed your cheek, his touch lingering for just a second too long.

“don’t stress about it, okay?” he murmured. “your firsts should be with someone you want them with. not just someone convenient.”

a heavy silence settled between you, but your mind was spinning now, turning over every moment, every lingering touch, every look he had given you that you never understood, until now.

“all those girls,” you said hesitantly, your voice quieter now. “the ones you’ve been with… did none of them ever mean anything?”

caleb stiffened, his jaw tightening. he looked away, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was debating whether to tell you the truth.

then he muttered, almost too low for you to hear. “none of them were you.” he finally admitted.

you felt your cheeks heat up by the sudden change in tone. 

he scoffed at himself, scratching the back of his head. “it’s silly, huh? i’d go out, find someone who-” he let out a humorless laugh. “someone who looked just enough like you if i squinted. your hair and that same kind of smile that i adore too much. sometimes they even smelled like your vanilla perfume.”

you stared at him, your heart beating against your ribs.

he shook his head, laughing bitterly. “and for a while, it worked. i’d close my eyes and pretend it was you. just for a little bit.” his voice dropped lower, ashamed. “but then it’d be over, and i’d wake up, and it wasn’t. and i’d hate myself for it.”

you swallowed hard. “caleb…”

his eyes met yours again, and for once, there was no smirk, no teasing glint. just raw honesty.

“but that didn’t stop me,” he admitted. “because i thought..heh i convinced myself..i’d never actually have you. and if I couldn’t, then what was the harm in pretending?”

a heavy silence settled between you. your chest ached, not just for him, but for yourself, for all the moments you never realized he was looking at you like that. the only thing that echoed now was the faint music from the speakers coming from the party downstairs.

“…and now?” you whispered.

caleb exhaled, something almost resigned in his expression. “and now i don’t even wanna pretend anymore.”

“you don’t…have too..” you whispered as both of your faces were mere inches from each other. a quiet breath came first followed by caleb looking down at your lips before he traced his hand down your chin. then, caleb kissed you.

he was slow at first but hesitant, as if he was still trying to convince himself this was real. his hand slid to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper. he places your back on his bed, the weight of him settling over you while fighting for dominance with his tongue. 

he kissed you like he was making up for every stolen glance, every moment spent pretending. his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing, claiming, demanding in a way that sent heat pooling in your stomach.

then he slowed, breathing heavy as he pulled back just enough for his forehead to rest against yours. his thumb traced your jaw, his voice barely above a whisper.

"tell me to stop," he said, but his voice wavered, like he was terrified of what he’d do if you actually did.

you swallowed hard, your hands turned to knuckles."i don’t want you to."

a sharp exhale, like he had been holding his breath. his lips ghosted over yours, his grip tightening ever so slightly. his breath hot over your lips "then tell me…" his voice was desperate. "tell me that whatever happens next, you won’t regret it." he grabs your hand to kiss it before looking into your eyes once more awaiting your answer. “i want to be your first.” his puppy eyes now settling upon you. 

you lifted that same hand, brushing your fingers through his hair. “caleb,” you whispered, soft but certain. “i could never regret you. i want this more than you could ever know.”

with a warm smile, he kissed you again, harder this time, more sure of himself. his hand slid down your waist, grounding himself in the feeling of you beneath him.

his hand traced the curve of your cheek before trailing lower, his lips followed.

he dove into your neck, attacking you with nibbles. what started as slow, lingering kisses turned into teasing bites that sent a shiver down your spine. his teeth grazed over your skin before his tongue followed, soothing the marks he was leaving behind. your clear skin was now painted with his touch, evidence of his undying love for you. he thought, what could be just a one-night fling to you, felt like more than everything to him. if what was happening now was just for one night, he was determined to make this into a memory that will keep him going. 

he trails a free hand to the base of your skirt, tugging on the zipper while his lips stay latched on your neck. with a sudden “zzzip” filling the room, he continues his path, guiding his hand lower and successfully reaching inside your underwear. you felt shivers down your spine as caleb rolls circles on your clit, sending a gasp out of you. 

you grip at his shoulder, feeling the fabric of his jacket wrinkle under your grasp. you didn’t know how to comprehend the amount of pleasure he was giving you. moans started to escape your lips as caleb continued to caress your clit, his every touch left you almost breathless but wanting more. your body started to tense up, an unknown feeling that only escalated your arousal. 

caleb let out a low chuckle before trailing a series of soft, lingering kisses along your lips. just as you try to keep up with your breath, he captured your mouth again, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his touch both teasing and possessive. his tongue slipped past your parted lips, prying your mouth open as he explored you further, muffling your shaky moans with an intense and consuming kiss.

“this feels s-so good..” you managed to whisper in between kisses, your body responding to every relentless touch. caleb still not losing his rhythm on your clit, his lips never leaving yours as he pulled back just enough to smile.

"i'm glad..because I won’t be stopping anytime soon," he said, his voice low and teasing.

his words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and anticipation pooling in your stomach. the more he kept playing with your clit, the more this..unknown sensation was rising inside you and he didn’t want him to stop. 

pulling his fingers away, you immediately missed the feeling, a whimper catching in your throat. before you could make a fuss on the loss, caleb dipped his head down, his breath warm against your skirt, nearing your cunt. you sucked in a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. your eyes, heavy-lidded and hazy with pleasure, flickered to the window. the stars had never looked so bright, distant, shimmering, and endless, just like the party still going on downstairs.

his hands found your hips, thumbs pressing into your hip bones in a slow, soothing motion before he hooked his fingers into your skirt. with a smooth tug, he slid it down, taking your underwear along with it, leaving you bare beneath him. caleb glanced up, his eyes smoldering as he murmured, "after tonight, i promise..this is all you'll ever think about."  

before you could even form a response, he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, keeping you open for him. then, without warning, his mouth descended on your exposed pussy.  

the first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor you, to let the taste of you settle on his tongue. but that restraint didn't last long. his groan vibrated against your core, low and needy, like he was already losing himself. his hands gripped your thighs tighter, fingers pressing into your flesh like he needed something to ground himself. but even then, he was slipping, unraveling with every lick, every sound you made.  

his tongue moved with an eager desperation, tracing over your folds, as if he was memorizing the way you felt against his tongue. he devoured you like a man starved, each groan growing rougher, throatier, as his self-control decreased. his movements became sloppier, greedier. his lips sealing around you, sucking just to hear you gasp, his tongue lapping up every drop like he couldn’t get enough.  

when he pulled back just slightly, his lips glistening, his breath ragged, his pupils were blown wide, almost black with hunger.

 "fuck..." he exhaled, his voice rawly thick. his grip on your thighs tightened for just a second before he dove back in, dragging another long, almost desperate lick through your folds, like he had lost all sense of anything else but you. 

your fingers tangled in his mullet without thinking, pulling him closer as your hips rocked against his tongue, chasing every wave of pleasure he gave you. the heat pooling in your stomach burned hotter with each flick of his tongue, each hungry suck that left you trembling beneath him.  

"caleb—" his name slipped out in a breathless moan before you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sounds spilling from your lips. "that feels… s-so good," you mumbled against your palm, your voice barely holding together.  

but caleb wasn’t having that.  

still buried between your thighs, he hummed against you, a deep, satisfied sound that sent vibrations straight through your core. without pausing, he reached up, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hand away from your lips. he laced his fingers with yours, his grip firm, grounding.  

his lips curled into a smirk against you before he murmured, voice thick with want, "you don’t have to hold back. be as loud as you want… i’m right here."

he pushes you back, pinning you against the bed with ease, his face still hovering over your pussy.  

"caleb, i…ah!"  

a sharp cry cuts off your words as his fingers sink into you, stretching you open inch by inch. the sudden fullness sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making your body arch into his touch. before you can even catch your breath, his tongue joins the mix, dragging along your folds with a slow, deliberate lick that has your thighs trembling.  

"you taste so sweet…" he groans against you, his voice dripping with hunger. "i could do this all night..all day even", he chuckles. 

your slick coats his fingers as he pumps them in and out, the pace teasingly slow, as if he’s memorizing every reaction, every little sound you make. your whimpers fuel him, a spark igniting in his chest as he watches you come undone beneath him.  

then, he curls his fingers just right-  

your back lifts off the bed, a choked moan escaping your lips as your body tenses. his smirk deepens, dark and knowing. he’s found it.  

"there it is," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. he doesn’t waste a second. his fingers pick up speed, thrusting deeper, pressing against that same spot over and over again. every movement is deliberate, every stroke meant to unravel you. the room fills with the slick sounds of his fingers working inside you, the wet heat of his mouth still teasing your clit, and the way your moans spill out, growing louder with every calculated thrust.  

caleb hums against you, his own pleasure building just from watching you come apart. "that’s it… let me hear you."

your grip on his hand tightened, fingers trembling as your body squirmed beneath him. a desperate whimper escaped your lips.

“c-caleb… i—ah… i think i’m close,” you gasped, your voice breathless, barely above a whisper.

his response was immediate, “come for me, princess… i’m right here.”

a shiver ran down your spine as his words alone sent you teetering on the edge. your back arched, muscles tensing as pleasure coiled tight in your core. caleb didn’t stop, his touch was relentless, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync, dragging you through wave after wave of ecstasy.

your release crashed over you, sending you spiraling. a gasp came from your throat as warm liquid flooded through you, coating his face and fingers soon part of the liquid dripped down to the bed. caleb groaned against you, savoring every moment, every sound, every taste. he pulled away only to lick his lips, eyes dark with satisfaction as his thumb traced soft circles on your inner thigh.

“that’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with praise, a smirk tugging at his lips. even now, with your body spent and breath uneven, the hunger in his gaze told you..he wasn’t done with you yet.

he wastes no time before hovering over you, caging you beneath him. his fingers fumble slightly as he works at the buttons of your top, eager yet unsteady. one by one, they come undone, revealing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. his pupils darken, widening with sheer desperation. he had imagined this moment countless times, but nothing compared to the reality of seeing you like this.  

“you’re even more stunning than i imagined,” he breathes, voice thick with longing. the last of the buttons popped off and you help him as he gently swifts it off your shoulders, putting it to the side. there’s no hesitation in his movements as he expertly unclasps your bra with a single hand, discarding it just as quickly. 

for a moment, he simply stares, enamored, breath hitching as if he doesn’t know where to begin. but desire overtakes him, and he dips his head, capturing one of your sensitive buds between his lips. the moment his mouth latches on, he sucks greedily, the same feeling he had between your thighs now channeled into worshipping every inch of you. he makes sure to give the other breast the same attention, his fingers kneading your soft flesh while his mouth continues its worship. caleb was always the type to ensure you were taken care of, and this was no different. his touch was deliberate, yet dripping with desire.  

your whimpers slip past your lips, each sound fueling him further as he overwhelms you with sensation after sensation. his tongue flicks and rolls, alternating between slow, teasing swirls and desperate, heated sucks, never giving you a moment to recover. every movement was a silent promise. he wasn’t stopping until you were completely undone beneath him.

eventually pulling his lips away from your breasts, his breaths were ragged, heavy with restraint as his fingers made quick work of his belt. “you have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, the sharp clink of metal echoed in the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being dragged down. 

his hands trembled slightly, whether from excitement or the sheer need to feel you, you weren’t sure. but the moment his pants hit the floor, he wasted no time. he leaned back over you, the heat of his body radiating against your skin as he traced a hand along your thigh, his touch very  worshipping. he releases his erection from his boxers and he was big. his tip glistened with pre-cum. he guided his cock before your pussy. 

“i’ll go slow, i promise” he breathed out, using your slick to coat himself. he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with the tip before slowly pushing in, letting you take him inch by inch.

a groan ripped from his throat as your walls wrapped around him, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to steady himself. his head fell forward, his breath hot against your shoulder. "fuck," he rasped, voice shaking. "you're—you're squeezing me so tight." he shakily pumps in you slowly.

"c-caleb," you whimpered, voice breaking as you tried to adjust. "you're so… big—"

his grip on you tightened, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants. "god… you feel too good," he nearly whimpered, his voice filled with desperation. his body trembled, pressing his forehead against yours as he fought for control. 

“if you keep squeezing me like that,” he murmured, his voice husky and uneven, “i don’t think i can go slow.”

you swallowed hard, your walls fluttering around him at his words. “please… don’t,” you whispered, meeting his half-lidded gaze with your own. "i want to feel all of you." you tugged at his jacket, it being the only clothing left on between the two of you. you slipped your hands beneath the fabric, pushing his jacket off his shoulders before sliding it down his arms, letting it fall carelessly to the floor along with your clothes. you guided your hands on his chest, feeling every muscle he had. you were used to seeing caleb shirtless but tonight, it was in a different light that only increased your arousal. 

once he was halfway in, his breathing started to become heavy as he studied your face for any sign of discomfort. “alright..” he hums, his thumb stroked gentle circles on your hip. “but tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered.

your nails dug into his shoulders, your body desperate for more despite the slow burn. “keep going,” you urged, your voice breathless and cheeks flushed.

caleb let out a shuddered exhale before pushing deeper, groaning as he finally bottomed out inside you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, overwhelmed by the warmth embracing him so perfectly. his body trembled to move at a pace that wouldn’t break you, despite the way your walls clenched around him. 

your moans became louder as caleb continues to fill you, his hair becoming a bird's nest under your fingers. “c-caleb..more” you bit your lip, scratch marks forming on his back the more you cling onto him. “hhhg…i need more” you pleaded. a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his restraint finally snapping as he began to move in a quicker pace, rocking into you with deep, measured thrusts that left you gasping.

caleb groaned against your lips before pulling away, his hands gripping your thighs as he adjusted his position, sliding his hands under your legs before lifting them onto his shoulders. the shift made you gasp, the deeper angle sending a shiver through your entire body. the perfect angle he knows to get you into a mess. he leaned forward, pressing your knees closer to your chest, trapping you beneath him. 

"c-caleb—" you choked out as he pushed back in, deeper than before, the sensation overwhelming his grip on your thighs tightened as he adjusted, his thrusts being so deep, hitting that sensitive spot inside you with precision. every roll of his hips that kissed your g-spot sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, your moans growing louder with each push and pull. 

caleb’s breathing was ragged, his control unraveling as he watched you writhe beneath him. "look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with admiration. "so beautiful like this..so perfect for me." he places a kiss on your calf. 

you reached for him, hands on his chest to gesture him to slow down. something was building up in your core. sounds of skin slapping filled the room. "i’m-..so cl..close caleb.." 

"i know," he cut in, voice strained as he instead quickened his pace, wanting your release to fall through for him and by him. "give it to me... please let me feel you.." 

with a final, deep thrust, he angled himself just right, sending you over the edge with a cry, your body tightening around him as a warm liquid gushed out of you. the liquid coated on caleb’s cock and inner thighs. witnessing this, caleb groaned loudly, his hips stuttering as he came completely undone by the way you pulsed around him. his movements grew more erratic as he felt your walls clamp down around him. the grip on your thighs tightened, as he tried to hold himself together.

"good girl.." he panted, his mind still onto the sounds and the expressions of you coming undone before him. he continued thrusting, now chasing his high. after a while, caleb announces “i’m ugg.. gonna..” his body comes to a stop as he releases his seed inside of you, coating your walls.

the world around you both seemed to have stopped, nothing but the feeling of him filled your mind. caleb's weight sank into you as he rested his forehead on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

a small smile curled at your lips as you traced your fingers through his damp hair, feeling his body twitch slightly against yours. "that was…" you trailed off, still breathless, your mind hazy from the intensity of it all.

caleb let out a weak chuckle, pressing a soft kiss against your collarbone before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his purple-pinkish eyes, still heavy with satisfaction, softened as he took you in. "yeah," he murmured, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "it was."

he slowly pulled out of you, making sure to be gentle as he settled beside you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. his hands roamed over your bare skin, his eyes full of adoration. caleb reached for the blanket, pulling it over you both, carefully covering you up as if protecting the moment, his moment. he held you close, his breathing still getting adjusted for his body to fit around yours. 

you cleared your throat, lifting your head to face him.

“hey,” you started softly, your voice a little unsure. “earlier… when i said i felt like i was behind, that I hadn’t had any of those firsts… i still feel that way sometimes. even now.”

caleb’s gaze softened, and he shifted, lifting his head to look down at you. his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a quiet gesture. “you’re not behind, pipsqueak,” he murmured, tender now. “everyone’s timeline is different. and whatever you haven’t experienced yet? i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be right here, whenever you’re ready for all of it.”

a smile tugged at your lips, his words comforting you. “i know. i guess i just needed to hear that.”

caleb’s smile was soft, his eyes full of warmth. he pulled you closer, holding you a little tighter. “it’s not about what everyone else does or what they think. it’s about what feels right for you. don’t ever feel like you’re missing out, because with me… you’ll always have all the time you need.”

you let out a contented sigh, your hand resting on his chest. “thanks caleb,” you whispered. “i’m glad i have you here.”

he kissed the top of your head, his voice with reassurance. “i’ll always be here, pipsqueak.” you begun to doze off, leaving the memory of the night you and caleb in your head. he was right, this is all you’ll ever think about. “goodnight, pipsqueak,” caleb whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. you didn’t have the energy to respond, the last of your thoughts dissolving into peaceful sleep.

caleb smiled down at you, his heart swelling with affection. his hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that he had always felt for you before. you looked so peaceful, so content, and he could hardly believe you were in his arms, trusting and letting him help with one of your doubts could easily fill him for the rest of his life.

he watched you for a while, tracing the outline of your face with his eyes as you slept, aware of the way his heart beat faster with each passing second. with each second having him fall more and more in love with you. caleb smirked to himself, imagining the questions that would come once gideon finds you sleeping in caleb’s bed. he let out a contented sigh, looking down at your sleeping form. “let him ask. i won’t let out a peep” he muttered.

not that gideon would believe any excuse, anyway. caleb could say you had a nightmare, that you tripped and conveniently landed in his bed, or that aliens abducted every other available sleeping surface but gideon would just wag his eyebrows and call it bluffing.

whatever. let him talk. let him annoy the hell out of him. caleb didn’t care.

all that mattered was the pretty girl curled up in his arms, fast asleep because for the first time in a long time, caleb was exactly where he wanted to be. and nothing else mattered.

[lucygraysboy]

“you’re too kind, little songbird.” billy just shakes his head, lowering his gaze. compliments that come from lucy gray always mean the world to him, which is why he barely knows how to handle them without turning into a bashful schoolboy. “when we come home for christmas, we’ll have to go through all these old recordings. grab some popcorn and xanax, and rewatch ‘em all.” there’s an hour long video of their very own version of high school musical somewhere out there, probably on her mom’s old laptop or some hard drive. god, those were the days! “almost as cool as my best friend’s new song is number one in america.” it’s going to happen, billy’s convinced, it’s only a matter of time. “to make you pity me ‘cause maybe that will earn me more kisses,” he admits truthfully, laughing and touching his reddening ears as if to see if they’re still attached to his head. he can barely feel them, but doesn’t really care. all he cares about is that lucy gray stays warm. “a gay show,” he repeats once they’re reunited, leaning in so that no one else can hear his voice. he loves the sound of her laugh so much that he’d say and do just about anything to hear it. “what? you don’t think i could pull it off?” he’s a straight man, but acting is the most fun when you get to portray someone so very different from yourself. “come here, my poor southern doll. you ain’t used to this weather.” chuckling, strong arms curling around lucy gray’s small frame, rubbing her through the fabric of her jacket to help her stay warm. “let’s go home. there’s a hot tub waitin’ for us, and we’ll go sightseein’ tomorrow,” he offers, taking her hand and leading her down the slope. they just have to return the sleds.

“you’re my favorite backup singer, you got a pretty voice.” lucy gray compliments, smiling sweetly. the added sweetness to her smile comes easily at the thought of how he’s always been the best team player. “that sounds the coolest.” she softly laughs, sparkles in her doe eyes as she looks at him across the park. “why sabotage mine just so you have to freeze your ears off?” so like her to be mad at him but not wanting him to freeze either. “a—?!” a what show, but hand covers her mouth, laughter spilling out of her. knowing she can’t repeat that, it’s not appropriate to yell out gay in public. “i’d like to, but i’m not so sure i can handle it. i should’ve worn more clothing.” teeth chattering, dragging the sled behind her while reaching out for his hand. “can you lock me up in your jacket too?” playfully questioning.

[caponhans]

i’ll never get over the fact that with the hans capon romance route you get the opportunity to “kiss him” but it’s actually hans who initiates the kiss. you can’t tell me hans isn’t the one who fell harder. the way both of them were so shocked about what happened, the way hans repetitively apologizes while throwing wood into the fireplace — completely in shock, like he’s trying to distract himself from the fact that he just completely lost control over his feelings. and the way henry was full on ready to storm out of the room because he was so overwhelmed, but then… he hesitates. he literally locks the door — because let’s be real, he liked it too.

they were both so shocked and overwhelmed about what happened, but at the same time they were so drawn to each other. and the fact that it’s henry who strides back to hans and kisses him again… like he couldn’t help himself either. and the way he so gently lowers hans onto the bed — you can tell they both wanted this for so long but never dared to act on it until everything just spilled over in that one vulnerable moment.

i’m so weak for them holy shit. they were both such messes about what happened, completely overwhelmed by their own feelings — but still wanted each other so badly. you can’t convince me hans didn’t spend months secretly pining after henry without even fully understanding what was happening to him. like… this man was absolutely walking around with the biggest, most confusing crush of his life while having no idea what to do with it.

and the worst part is — you just know he must’ve thought about the tale of the two knights over and over again, probably lying awake at night trying to make sense of why that story affected him so much and why he can relate to it so much. the way he must’ve quietly compared their relationship to him and henry — two men bound together by fate, loyalty, and something deeper neither of them could really name or fully understand. and while he’s trying to figure things out for himself, he’s also subtly trying to explain it to henry too — carefully testing the waters to see if henry feels the same way.

like… he was so desperate for henry to understand what was happening between them — even when he didn’t fully understand it himself either.

[acosmicbee]

Teddy Bear pt.2

(Not beta read so hopefully there aren't any major typos... Also, this is Tumblr exclusive and written from scratch so I hope you enjoy! Platonic Yandere Family x Child Reader)

You weren't quite sure what had happened, and it didn't help that no one would tell you. These people-- these strangers-- weren't your family, but they were acting like they were. Dinner had been an uncomfortable affair and you'd spent most of it hiding behind your teddy bear while Stephan tried to make sure you ate.

Emma was chatting with her parents and siblings, occasionally placing a hand on your head or gently chiding you to try eating a little more. But you felt like you could barely keep your food down, anxious as you kept glancing around at all these people you didn't know.

Of course you had liked Emma and Stephan, they'd been so nice to you when you'd met. They'd made you feel comfortable and safe, but they'd also taken advantage of that. They'd used your security against you, to steal you away. Sure they were being nice now, as were the people around them, but you remembered all those times your school had cops come in to talk about kidnappings. You remembered how they'd showed the statistics of all the kids who'd never made it out alive.

You tried to stifle a sniffle in the fur of your bear, staring down at your lap as a tear steamed down your face. Sure your family hadn't been the greatest... but they were still your family. More importantly, would you ever see your grandma again? The woman who'd spent her time to make you a special gift when you had nothing.

Emma frowned down at you, seeming to have noticed your distressed state. She shared a look with Stephan before excusing herself from the table, picking you up as she carried you from the room. You just let her take you, feeling worse as the sound of talking faded away.

Emma was talking to you, quietly cooing and whispering little promises that fell on deaf ears. She carried you into the room you were apparently staying in, setting you on her and Stephan's bed as she kneeled to look up at your face.

"Hey, sweetheart. What's with the tears?" She asked gently, reaching up to brush a tear off your face. "Do you want to lie down, honey? We can take a minute to ourselves if you need that. We don't want to rush you."

You just nodded, letting yourself flop over onto the bed as you lay on your side. All you could think about was your grandma, how you weren't sure if you'd ever get to see her again. You let Emma play with your hair, trying to calm you down as you cried. It didn't take very long before the adrenaline stopped rushing through, your body unable to continue being in fight or flight and still function. You fell asleep on the bed, your tears drying on your face.

—⁺˖°ʚ🧸ɞ°⁺˖—

"...time, honey. They'll be okay, I promise." You heard a voice murmur. Your body felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as you slowly woke up. You were thirsty, which your body had decided was enough reason to rouse you from your much needed sleep.

You slowly sat up, still trying to register your surroundings. The voices around you went quiet as you rubbed your eyes, carefully climbing off the bed. You didn't even make it two steps before you were being cradled in warm arms, a gentle hand stroking your back.

"Hey sweetheart, did you need something?" A voice asked. It took you a second to recognize the person as Stephan, looking at him with sleepy eyes.

"Water..." You said, ignoring him as he cooed at you for being cute and sleepy.

"Of course, love. Emma, could you...?"

"Yeah, I'll go grab them some water." She said, appearing beside him. She smiled down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing back out of view.

You spent the few minutes before she got back, being gently rocked, tucked against a cozy chest. It almost made you drift off again, but the second you were about to give in and close your eyes a cup of water was passed to you.

You took small sips, finishing the whole cup quickly. Instead of being allowed to go back to bed, you were changed into a soft pair of pajamas and carried into the bathroom to brush your teeth. By the time you were deemed 'ready for bedtime', you were getting fussy.

You were placed onto the air mattress where you'd first woken up instead of the bed, your teddy bear hugged close to you. A fluffy blanket was pulled over your body as your head hit the pillow. You heard the voices start talking softly again but couldn't bring yourself to care enough to listen in as you fell back asleep.

—⁺˖°ʚ🧸ɞ°⁺˖—

"They're just so precious... Did you see their little frown when I made them brush their teeth?" Stephan asked, looking over for the fourth time in ten minutes to make sure you were still comfortably sleeping. Tomorrow Emma's parents were having a kid bed delivered for you, probably along with a whole slew of new clothes, toys and other activities for a kid your age.

"I saw. Hopefully they'll be able to eat a bit more at breakfast. I know they're still adjusting and just need some time but it worried me when they tired themself out like that..." Emma said, smiling as you murmured something incoherent in your sleep. "They're such a good kid... I hope they finally feel the love they've been missing."

"I'm sure they do Em. Have you booked them a ticket for our return flight next week yet?" Stephan asked, yawning as he climbed into bed. Emma cursed under her breath as she grabbed her laptop from her luggage.

"You're a lifesaver Steph. Don't know what I'd do without you." She said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "You go to bed, okay love? I'll get everything sorted out. Love you honey."

"Love you more." Stephan murmured back. Emma turned off the bedside lamp, dimming her computer screen as she navigated booking you a seat between the two of them for when the three of you would head home next week.

—⁺˖°ʚ🧸ɞ°⁺˖—

Emma had been up much longer than she'd expected to be. She'd booked your ticket hours ago, but had then stumbled down an internet rabbit hole regarding childcare. What had started with a simple search about introducing a new kid to a home had led her to some darker corners of the internet.

She was watching a video made by a woman regarding settling a child in after a unanticipated adoption when she heard you stir. She turned on the light, knowing that Stephan could sleep through it, as she climbed out of bed to kneel beside you.

Even in your sleep you looked distressed, your body twisted up into a ball as you let out a soft whine. Emma frowned, reaching out to try and soothe you when you suddenly jolted awake. A strangled cry left you when you saw her before you began to cry.

She gently shushed you, pulling you into her arms as she gently rocked you. You looked conflicted, torn between resisting the woman who kidnapped you or leaning into the novel and warm feeling of comfort she brought you. Eventually, you let yourself relax into her arms, letting her stroke your back as she delicately handled you.

"You're alright sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it, Y/N? I'm here to listen if you wish." Her voice was soft and patient and only served to confuse you more.

"Why are you being nice to me?" You asked through tears. "Why aren't you being mean?! Kidnappers are supposed to be mean!"

A look of hurt flashed across her face for a second, but she coaxed your head to rest against her chest before you could dwell on it. Her nice behavior was so confusing to you. How could this couple who had kidnapped you treat you so much nicer than your parents had? Were you a horrible child if there was a little voice inside of you begging you to behave so you could stay with them?

"Sweetheart," Emma sighed. She gently rubbed your back as she continued to speak. "The reason Stephan and I... adopted you was because we felt you deserved so much better than what you were getting. You deserved to have a life where you were told you were loved every single day. You deserved to wake up each morning with a smile. You were, and are, such a sweet kid but you were being forced out of a childhood."

"B-but you don't know me! I could be bad or just pretending! Maybe I deserved it!" You argued back, the words of your parents echoing through your head. They'd always let you know how bad you were and why they never loved you the way they loved your sister.

Emma's heart broke hearing your words as she pulled you even closer, kissing the top of your head. It took her a minute to find the words she wanted to say and even longer to put aside the idea of tracking down your old parents to teach them a lesson.

"Y/N, sweetheart, no matter how 'bad' a kid is they still deserve love. You could be the worst kid on the planet and still deserve love, but I don't think you are. A bad kid wouldn't have offered a stranger her teddy bear because they were scared. A bad kid wouldn't have been as polite as you've been. You aren't bad, lovely, you were never bad. You were just around people who couldn't appreciate you."

That incited a new wave of tears. Your arms came up to cling to Emma's pajama top, holding her close as you sobbed. You- you weren't bad? You did deserve love? Could she be right? You wanted her to be right. You desperately needed her to be right.

"A-Am I wrong? I don't wanna leave... I don't wanna go back... Is that wrong? Does that make me bad?" You whispered, not even sure if she'd heard you until she pulled you even closer. She just smiled into your hair, kissing the top of your head again.

"Oh sweetheart... Of course you aren't bad. You're allowed to be happy that you got out of a bad situation. You're allowed to be happy that you finally feel loved. You're allowed to feel the way you feel." She said, carefully grabbing your teddy before standing up with you in her arms.

She carried you over to the bed, laying you down next to Stephan's sleeping body. She placed her laptop on the nightstand before climbing in beside you and turning off the light. An arm wrapped around your waist, and you felt someone cuddling you close for the very first time. It was warm...

You decided you liked being held close as you drifted off to sleep.

—⁺˖°ʚ🧸ɞ°⁺˖—

Slowly, over the course of the week you spent with Emma's family, you started to open up. You would let Emma's parents dress you up and buy you toys. You would let her siblings ruffle your hair and twirl you around. Every night you'd find your way in between Emma and Stephan, being held close as they reminded you how much they loved you.

It was only on the day before you left that you approached Emma's father with a request. You'd whispered it into his ear, your eyes lighting up when he responded. You'd hugged him tightly and Stephan had smiled watching as his soon to be father-in-law hugged you back with a chuckle.

Later that day you handed him a slip of paper. He didn't look at it, just tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket. It was only later, while your new grandmother was giving you a luxurious bubble bath, that he pulled them aside.

"Y/N wanted me to send this to her grandmother." He said bluntly, pulling out the piece of paper. "I'm ready to follow your lead on whether or not to send it. They're your kid."

Emma and Stephan took a moment to read over the letter, murmuring between each other. Eventually they came to an agreement, turning back to Alexi. "You can send the letter."

"Are you sure?" He asked, taking the piece of paper back.

"She needs to get it off her chest. Please forward any response to my address back home." Emma said, holding Stephan's hand. The sound of your laughter echoed through the house, a testament to how far you'd come since you'd first arrived.

They knew that everything would be okay.

—⁺˖°ʚ🧸ɞ°⁺˖—

"I'm looking for a Miss Aurelia." A man dressed in a nice suit said. Aurelia wasn't in the mood, wanting to go back to mourning her lost grandchild.

"I'm not interested." She murmured, going to shut the door when the man stopped her, holding out a letter. She looked at him confused before taking the envelope. "What is this?"

"This is a letter Miss Y/N wrote for you." He said, watching the way her eyes widened. She instantly opened the envelope, pulling out the letter written in your childish scrawl.

Hi Grandma! I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay. I'm living with these super nice people named Emma and Stephan. They're taking good care of me and make me feel the same way you do. I don't need to do all the chores and they make sure to tell me that they love me everyday. I'm sorry that I didn't get to see you, but Emma said maybe next time we can go visit you! That way you can still knit Teddy a sweater! I still have him, he's all safe with no rips or tears at all! I love you the most grandma! Don't forget about me! -Y/N

Your grandma held the letter close, tears streaming down her face. She'd thought she'd lost you forever when her idiot son had turned up, talking about how they'd been given a large sum of money in return for your adoption. She'd yelled at him, disowning him and refusing him any entry to her home. But now... now she knew you were safe and sound.

"If you wish to write a response, you can send it here." The man said, handing her a card with an address printed on it. "Have a good day, Miss Aurelia."

Your grandmother never stopped crying as she closed the door and locked it. Not as she walked over to the mantle where she'd turned all your pictures around to flip them the right way again. Not as she finally picked up her knitting needles, which she hadn't touched since she'd heard the news, and started on the sweater for your bear.

She hoped your new family were treating you with the love you deserved. More than that, she hoped that you'd be able to see each other as soon as possible. You deserved the world, and she was glad it seemed like someone was finally giving it to you.

[yanderedrabbles]

Hi! Btw It’s my first time on this blog & Love your scenarios! Just wanted to Ask in general: would Yandere military contractor ever be amused by an mc who’s very willing or will he want more of a struggle from them? 💝

Yandere! Military Contractor x Affectionate Reader

Hmm, I've said before that he's the kind of guy who takes what he wants from you regardless. But no matter how monstrous, he's still a man. Deep down, he wants you to want him back.

The thing that scares him though? The inherent vulnerability that brings. He's used to covering all his bases, used to squashing down his emotions to get the job done - to the point where he's numb and dull to almost anything. Admitting, even to himself, that he needs you in that way? Absolutely not happening.

Even when he was watching you - weeks spent on the roof of the building across from your apartment, hours parked outside your work - he always told himself it was just curiosity. Just an itch that he needed to scratch. He'd feel better once he had his hands on you, that's all. He'd stop thinking about fucking you once he got it out of his system.

Such a great liar that he doesn't even realise when he's doing it to himself. The second he had you - skin on skin, your throat under his teeth - he told himself he'd keep you just a little longer. Just to really work out his frustration. Gotta get his fill so when it's over he doesn't get the craving again.

But he's never full enough.

No matter how much he's had you - crying or whimpering or even begging him not to stop - it's never enough. There's this thing inside him that always wants more, wants it different. On your back, flipped onto your stomach, up against the wall with your forehead in the crook of his neck, begging, crying, laughing. All of it. All the time.

He holds you at night and tells himself tomorrow, I'll let her go tomorrow. But tomorrow never quite seems to come.

When you start wanting him back, kissing him, pressing against him at night, he isn't sure what to think. You're clever. This could all just be a trick.

Showing him affection just makes him sink his teeth in deeper, makes him fuck you harder, makes him double lock the doors everynight. Makes him want to break you under him because how can you be so cruel? Giving him what he's wanted all along but doesn't deserve? He lives in fear of you taking it back, changing your mind.

Fucking you so rough that you're sobbing, snarling in your ear that he'll be nice if you say 'I love you.' Liar. It just makes him worse.

[ak4e7a]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞) - 𝐩𝐬𝐡

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 / '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦

synopsis: you were never one to take the high road... until you met someone who made your body burn like rubber on asphalt.

street racer! hoon x street racer!maneater! reader

wc: 16.9k holy fuck honestly this hoe might be a 3-parter lowk

a/n: hi sorry i disappeared... but enjoy LOL and happy one year to my blog! i met so many cool people over this past year. reblogs are appreciated and i will astral project into your room and hug you ≽ܫ≼

banner by @karinasbaby i love you this one's for you big dawg. year in the making, let's go

“Didn’t think you were going to grace us with your presence tonight, Miss Probation,” Jaeyun smirks as you get out of your car, swinging both of your legs out closed like a lady so as to not flash anyone with the black miniskirt you’re wearing. He greets you with an air-kiss to your cheek, to which you roll your eyes—although you bask in the way the other girls stare at the two of you. If only they knew how annoying your best friend actually was.

“It’s Jungwonie’s turn to race for us, so who am I to deprive my brother and the team of our good luck charm? We need all the luck we can get tonight,” you reply, taking a seat on the hood of your baby pink Supra. “We’re on a good win streak. Might even take this season’s cup without me.”

The other racers from different teams have started to arrive, many of them making their way over to say hello to you. You give your girls—Jimin, who races for Razor; Aeri, the beloved race girl; and Soyeon, a member of the AZ team—air-kisses from across the parking lot. You aren’t feeling like walking over to the groups they’re mingling with. (And because you don’t feel like being near Hwang Hyunjin right now.)

“Fair enough,” he acquiesces, sitting beside you when you pat the spot next to him. “But you know, Wonie is better than you think—”

“Hey, you never let me sit on your car,” Wonbin says, striding over to you with a smirk. You glance up at him, and he looks like he’s expecting you to either push Jaeyun off or scoot over yourself—either way, he wants a turn.

Basically everyone in your little racing scene does, but you think it’s more fun to work them like dogs than to give in to anyone. Especially not after what happened with— “You’re not even in Enigma, Wonbin. Privilege is for teammates only, get lost,” Jaeyun says condescendingly.

He looks at you again, like an expectant puppy—which only works if it’s Jaeyun doing it to you— waiting for you to reach into your purse. You sigh and reach in and feel around for a particular wrapper. “Here. Go away.”

The Australian snickers as Wonbin walks away dejectedly. “The grandma coffee candy, huh?”

“He was too cocky, that's all he deserves tonight. Even if he’s cute. He’s lucky I gave him anything at all.”

“What about me? I’m cuter,” Jaeyun asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with his signature cheeky grin, batting his eyelashes at you the way you do to him. You’re used to flirting with him; it’s more of a way to keep both your skills and his sharp than anything romantic or suggestive. After all, you grew up with Jaeyun, and you know all his embarrassing secrets just like he knows yours. One time in high school, the two of you fake-dated for a week to get some girl too obsessed with him for her own good to leave him alone. It’s safe to say she didn’t buy it, not one bit. You and him bickered too much for it to be believable, and you accidentally screamed when he kissed you on the forehead. 

“Hmm…” Playfully, you pretend to be deep in thought, hand digging in your purse again. “Here.”

His face lights up in innocent delight, a huge contrast to his outfit of baggy cargo pants, oversized hoodie, and sneakers, complete with a thick, iced-out Cuban-link chain around his neck. “Ooh, yum! Grape Hi-Chew!”

You roll your eyes. “I only carry that for you, loser. Everyone knows the mango one is the best.”

“You just say that because grape was—”

“Hey, Y/N! Nice wrap,” Riki says, waving his long arms at you like he’s drowning. The tall, newly-turned 21-year-old bounds towards you before tackling you in a hug that sends you almost crashing into the ground, your hands flying to tug the hem of your skirt down lest your protective younger brother scold you about not dressing for the weather. It’s a cold spring night, as proven by Riki who’s in a loose, knitted navy blue sweater and destroyed light wash jeans.

“Jeez, Riki, I just saw you yesterday, no need to suffocate me,” you grumble affectionately, reaching up to muss his black-and-silver hair before sitting back down on the hood of your car. You’ve been fond of the boy since Jungwon brought him over one day, his first new friend since losing his best friend (and one of yours, honestly) in a betrayal that still hurts to speak of to this day. Riki clings onto you like you’re his older sister, too, and you reckon it probably has something to do with missing his own sister back home. “You saw me finish the wrap on the car, too, remember? Jimin and Soyeon were there.”

“Yeah, yeah, but it looks good even at night! Very professional. Maybe you can wrap the GTR next?” he says, to which you side-eye him, and he adds, “I can pay you.”

“You can pay for my meals every time we go out to eat for the next three months and I’ll call it even.”

He laughs. “Okay, deal. You eat less than Jungwon hyung, anyways.”

“Why are you talking shit about me to my sister again, freak?” your younger brother demands, making his way up to the small crowd that’s starting to form around you, Riki, and Jaeyun. He looks taller today, you think to yourself, and when he comes into full view, you see that he’s riding on the back of an unfamiliar person, a tall man with a sharp jawline and a pretty nose, whose bangs droop over his eyes. He’s wearing a white tank top and jeans, with a black and blue leather racing jacket covering his torso from the chilly Seoul air. 

“Well, did I fucking lie?” Riki snaps back, arms crossed. You hide your laugh in the crook of your arm, eyes locking with the man who’s got your brother draped over his broad shoulders like a backpack. He looks at you intensely, in a way that makes you feel like he’s got x-ray vision or something. You feel like your insides are turning into lava. What’s his deal?

“Whatever, cricket legs.” Jungwon jumps off the man’s back, shaking his hair out of his eyes. You notice that he’s yet again stolen one of your oversized hoodies. “Oh, hyung! This is my sister, by the way. Noona, this is Sunghoon hyung. He’s joining Enigma.”

He’s cute, pretty, even, and you like that. You’ve always preferred pretty boys. And up until about five seconds ago, you would have said that—even though your ex-boyfriend is a cheating bastard who deserves nothing but suffering—he was still the prettiest man you’ve come across. 

But this one, this one in front of you right now, this one takes the cake. He’s got full, thick brows that frame dark almond eyes, and his cheekbones flow into his jawline in a way that makes you think his face has probably stopped traffic at least once in his life. Before you stare at him for way too long, you reach into your purse and pull out one of your mango-flavored Hi-Chews (from your personal stash) to give him. 

“Hi, Sunghoon. Nice to meet you. Welcome to Enigma.”

He repeats his own version of your greeting a bit too curtly for your liking, but you don’t care either way, he’ll be under your thumb in no time, just like everyone else, just the way you like. Rolling the wrapped cube in his hand, he asks, “What’s this for?”

To which you reply, “Oh, nothing. I just like candy.”

“I feel like ‘like’ is an understatement,” Riki snorts, sticking his hand in your purse for something he can snack on. You sigh and hand him your purse for him to rummage around more freely. 

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at that, but turns to you anyways. “Do you race, too? I don’t want to assume or anything.”

You give him a coy smile, translucent bubblegum-pink-manicured fingernails clicking against the hood of your car as you drum your fingers against it. “Yeah, I do. I’m banned from racing right now, though, until the end of the season at least.”

He cocks his head like a curious puppy, blinking slowly at you. Oh, no. He’s cute and probably doesn’t know it, but he’s definitely dressed like he knows he’s hot. “Why’s that?”

Your smile turns into a smug smirk as you answer, “Because I go too fast.”

“Fourth-gen Supra,” he muses, glancing between your bare legs at the titanium Toyota emblem on the hood that you’d had imported from Japan. For some reason, you have to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “Cute.”

“Oh? And what’s your ride?”

“Beamer M8 Comp,” Sunghoon says, an air of nonchalance about the answer like it’s nothing special. It kind of pisses you off. You’re pretty certain he didn’t win that car by racing for the pink slip like you did with your Supra. Before you got that car, Jungwon’s 350Z was yours, and you’d only had it because you salvaged it from a junkyard and rebuilt the whole damn thing yourself when you weren’t working or sleeping.

If there’s one thing you might hate more in this life than cheaters, it’s people who come from money, people who didn’t understand or couldn’t comprehend that they were playing life on easy mode. People who never had to suffer, because, to you, they never learned anything.

Sure, you had a hard life. Sure, your parents kicked you and Jungwon to the curb when the both of you refused to take over the family business. Sure, you worked hundreds or, more likely, thousands of hours just to make ends meet and take care of your brother while the two of you finished school. Sure, you wished you could have enjoyed your youth more instead of having to worry about money.

But instead, you had to pay the price for your freedom. Part of you still wonders if it was all worth it. If you should have stayed in your hometown. If you should have just went along with the arranged marriage your parents were proposing with someone you didn’t even know instead of running away with your ex and dragging Jungwon to hell with you.

Okay, maybe it really pisses you off. 

“Ooh, rich boy,” you deadpan, your long nails preventing you from balling your hands into fists. You deny him the pleasure of seeing you roll your eyes back into your head. “Daddy must have spent a lot on you.”

“That’s not very welcoming to say,” he shoots back, although his voice is just as flat, his eyes narrowed at you.

You pout mockingly at him. “I’m just teasing our newest member—don’t worry, silver spoon. It’ll be over for you sooner if you decide to quit while you’re ahead.”

“You scared you won’t be the best racer on the team anymore or something, princess?”

“Just wait for me to get off probation and I’ll make you eat my brake dust, Daddy’s Money.”

“You’re already calling me daddy, even though we just met? Because it was my money that bought the car, for the record.”

You’re a little embarrassed and also slightly turned on, neither of which you would ever admit to even Jaeyun, and he knows you just about as well as he knows every single Fortnite map. “Tell someone who cares.”

The back-and-forth between the two of you is thankfully cut short as everyone hears the roar of a particular engine, marking the arrival of Enigma’s leader. You could just kiss him for his impeccable timing—if it weren’t for the fact that neither of you saw each other that way. You reckon both of you would rather eat a jean jacket than get more intimate than the platonic skinship that marks your friendship with him and the other Enigma boys.

People move aside as he puts the metallic, slime green Lamborghini Huracan in reverse and backs up into the parking spot next to you. The ostentatious exotic car belonging to Jay was gifted to him by one of his first clients, a filthy rich businessman who respected and admired Jay’s hard work and dedication to his job despite Jay being a corporate grunt in those days. During this period in your lives, Jay never once showed up late to a meeting with Mr. Big—even when his old Mitsubishi Lancer finally gave up on him after years of being pushed to its limit, even if it meant he had to wake up at three in the morning to start walking from his old apartment in Ahyeon-dong to Gangnam to make the scheduled 6 AM meetings—since the subways unfortunately didn’t operate until 5:30.

After Old Moneybags found out about Jay’s struggle, it was safe to say your best friend wasn’t on hard times for very long after that.

“Jay!” you call out, playing up your role as the only girl in Enigma just to assert dominance over the racer groupies in attendance tonight. You haven’t seen him since the last race, on account of the both of you being too busy with your work schedules to hang out properly. You immediately nudge past everyone—including Sunghoon, who you intentionally brush up against, your ass against his leg—to be the first to greet him.

“Hey, sweets, missed you,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, been just fine. You know me, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself,” you assure him with a smile. He pinches your cheek. “What about you?”

“Oh, same shit, different day. Hoping I finally clutch this huge promotion at work. Head of an entire department,” he answers, protective hand on your waist as he guides you back to the rest of the Enigma boys. Along the way, he daps up some of the other racers who say hi to him, before giving Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Riki a dap and that weird side hug that guys who are close friends do. “Have you met Sunghoon yet?”

“Yeah, I have.” Your lips form into a slight pout, even though you know everyone but Riki is immune to your occasional petulance. “No one told me we were getting a new member. I thought we agreed to vote if it ever happened again? And… I thought it was never going to happen again?”

“You weren’t answering your phone when we voted, so Riki and Wonie took your vote,” Jaeyun snickers, shaking Jay’s hand and giving him the one-armed, “definitely not gay, bro” hug. “Think you had the group chat muted again.”

“Well, that was for good reason,” you argue crossly. While you loved your boys, that didn’t stop them from getting on your nerves at least once a day. “I was mad at you guys for not wanting to go get milk tea with me. And then you got it without me, clearly.”

“Didn’t we bring you some that night, though?” Jay retorts, ever the level-headed one when his temper wasn’t getting the best of him.

“Yeah… but I wanted to come! We live in the same building, for fuck’s sake!”

“It was a boys’ night, silly. Are you a boy?” Jaeyun pats your head and you swat his hand away, grumbling under your breath at him to not to touch you and to fuck off. 

Your attention veers to Jungwon as he turns to Sunghoon, who’s standing with his arms crossed, watching you bicker with the boys from a distance. “Don’t mind her, she’s always like this. You ready to race?”

“Always like what, Yang Jungwon?” you ask mirthlessly, hands on your hips.

“A brat!” Jaeyun and Jay answer on his behalf, tugging you away so as to allow the racers on tonight’s card to drive up to the starting line, and everyone else can get behind them.

That’s how your scene’s races have worked since you were tasked with changing the rules two years ago; two drivers from each team participating would race, while the others would drive behind them as pace cars. They would also be ready to distract the police at a moment’s notice and keep the roads clear of civillians. It was as ethical as you could make it, and, honestly, it worked and kept everyone safe.

On this night, you’ve been roped into Jaeyun’s metallic blue Mustang Shelby GT500, with glimmering white racing stripes you added on yourself, huffing and muttering to yourself about how the boys were being “mean” to you in front of Sunghoon to try and impress him. Jay has gone ahead to wait at the finish line. He’d refused—again—to not “put the Huracan anywhere near any of these morons with driver’s licenses,” and so he’s there to note down the order in which the racers arrive, armed with several precisely-calibrated stopwatches. 

You yourself have refused to ride with any other driver even though many of them offered to bring you along as their “passenger princess”. You will only ever ride with one of your boys. Riki is in his blacked out R35 Nissan GT-R, the other seats occupied with the life-sized plastic skeletons that he “borrowed” from his school’s anatomy lab. He’s cruising beside Jungwon, and behind you and Jaeyun; Sunghoon is in his own car beside you two.

“How’d you even meet that guy, anyways?” you groan to your best friend, trying to shield your eyes with the way Riki’s obnoxiously bright, blue underglow on his car is blinding you in your side mirror. Your hand dangles out of the open window, fingertips tapping idly on the outside of the door. “He’s so unfriendly.”

“Actually, he’s pretty cool when you get to know him. Riki and I met him at the gym a few weeks ago. He asked if one of us could spot him on the bench press—for three plates, that’s fucking sick! But, uh, yeah. We started working out together after that.”

You scoff. “Oh, great. Another meathead like you two.”

“Y/N, that’s not nice,” Jaeyun chides, glancing at you with the same affection of an older brother, even though you’re both 24 years old. “You’re not being very nice tonight.”

“Well, neither is he. He’s just some spoiled little rich boy who thinks he’s better than everyone.”

“Um… so am I, honestly… and so is Riki, honestly, but you don’t say anything about that, do you?”

You begin to reply, but you frown as Sunghoon speeds past the two of you in his pearly black BMW M8 Competition, the exhaust pipes screaming bloody murder, heading for the starting line just a hundred feet ahead. “Did he hear me say that about him?”

“Most likely.”

“Fuck.”

Part of you wants to apologize; maybe you’re being a little harsh on him, maybe you’re projecting your feelings towards this guy just because he reminds you of a certain someone, maybe you need to finally come to terms with what you’ve been denying for all these years.

Jaeyun pulls up to his spot behind the racers, right between Riki’s GT-R and Jungwon’s 350Z. You signal to the Nissan Boys, as you affectionately call your little brothers, to put their seatbelts on. They both pretend to sigh begrudgingly as they buckle themselves in.

The race girl is your good friend, Aeri, who every guy in your racing division is also obsessed with. Between the two of you, you think that she’s the truly adored one, because she is still as sweet as the day you met her—and you have an inclination to terrorize anyone of the opposite sex who rubs you the wrong way (due to your past). You can’t help it though, and, surprisingly, none of the boys who fall at your feet fault you for it.

But no one ever seemed to feel the need to prove you wrong, either, and that was your problem with them.

Aeri stands in between the middle two drivers, reaching under her top to unclip her bra. You take this as your cue to pull out the megaphone from where it sits waiting at your feet. Leaning out of the window, you announce, “First one to the base of Namsan Mountain wins! I expect a clean race, no funny business. Take no shit, but do no harm!”

“Isn’t that backwards?” Jaeyun whispers to you. You wave him off. He’s right, but you’re trying to emphasize your point about not dragging any innocent people into the racers’ mess.

You continue.“Tonight’s winner will receive the cash prize from me, personally, at a later time. Are we clear?”

A chorus of revved engines gives you your answer. “Alright. Aeri, count us down?”

She nods, pulling out her bra from her top and holding it up in the air. “‘Kay! You guys will go on 1! Ready? 3… 2… 1!” At the final number, she lets the hot pink satin garment drop to the ground, and everyone guns it, driving off in a flurry of exhaust smoke and burnt rubber.

“How much was the buy-in tonight, sweetie?” Jaeyun asks, using his own form of the sugar-derived nickname for you.

“Five million won apiece,” you answer. You scroll through Yun’s phone and play a song on his obnoxiously overpriced sound system. You’ve been joking to your friends that you’re in your “girl Future” era, citing your borderline toxic behavior towards the other racers who constantly slide in your DMs as proof that you’re literally the female version of the rapper. It doesn’t help that your coworker, Minjeong (who is also your self-appointed “work wife”), encourages you to torment men.

“‘I Serve the Base’? Really?” he snorts, leaning back in his seat. “You’re in a mood tonight, huh?”

“I dunno, it just fits the vibe,” you shrug. “Just quit yapping and drive, please.”

“Like I said, a mood.”

You sigh and physically turn away from him like a petulant girlfriend would—knees pointing towards the door and all—and stare out of the passenger window at the cars in front of you. You watch as Wonbin and Hyunjin duke it out on the road, trying to put each other in last place. The way they’re maneuvering their cars makes you a little uncomfortable, but also annoyed that they clearly didn’t listen to a word you said not two minutes ago. “Yunie, flash your high beams at them.”

“Say please.”

You look at him in confusion. Where’d he learn to say that?

“Sorry, Sunghoon does that to Riki and Jungwonie all the time.”

Yikes. Part of you hopes he doesn’t do it to girls, too… but you wouldn’t mind it if he were to do it to you. It’s high time someone really makes an effort to put you in your place, honestly. You reach behind you, to the back seat and grab the laptop you took from Riki, opening it up and typing furiously.

“What are you doing?”

“Accessing the street cameras,” you answer like it’s obvious. Being nefariously good at using the Internet was a perk that came with hanging out with your brother way too much. “I want to see what’s going on.”

“Well? Give me the rundown, then.”

“Jungwonie is in third place, it looks like. He’s gapped Hyunjin in front of us by at least a kilometer… and he’s approaching San and Wooyoung real quick. But—fuck, wait.” You click through a bunch of tabs, scanning the screen faster than when you’re reading twenty-six text message screenshots that Aeri sent you to dissect. “I can’t find Sunghoon anywhere.”

“What? What do you mean you can’t find him? Did he get pulled over or something?” he asks, lowering the volume of his speakers using the button on his steering wheel, eyes still trained on the road in front of him. He flashes his lights again, this time at just Wonbin to pick up the pace, urging him to pass Riki—who now has his underglow set to a stealthy dark red—up ahead.

“No… just… wait, give me a sec… oh, holy fuck.” You click through the camera footage, rewinding it and slowing down the playback. “Oh, my God.”

“Jesus Christ, what is it? You can’t just cliffhanger me like that!”

“I can’t see him because his lights are off.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think he has a mod on his car—you literally can’t see him unless he drives under a streetlight.”

“Wait, that’s what Riki imported for him?!”

“What the—oh shut the fuck up, it was me who imported that light system! That fucker said it was for a friend when I asked him why he was buying new bulbs, ‘cause I knew he just got those halo LEDs!” You take a deep breath before sticking your hand in the pocket of Jaeyun’s pants.

“Yo! I thought we agreed not to fuck in the car! And especially not while I’m driving—but I guess I shouldn’t turn down some road head…”

“God, shut up, you perv! I need to get your phone and call Sunghoon!” you cry out. “He needs to turn his lights on, what if he gets hit by someone?!”

Jaeyun laughs. He laughs. At your misery, or your panic, or at you. “So you do like him.”

“Shut the fuck up, seriously, Yun, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt. We’re already on thin ice with the cops as it is!”

“Shoutout San, though,” he chuckles, shifting gears so he can close the gap between him and Wonbin, who is starting to approach Hyunjin again. 

Your friend Choi San, also a racer on the AZ team, is from a family of high-ranking Seoul Police Department officials; he’d gotten pretty much everyone off the hook more than once for various traffic violations. You keep a stash of mint chocolates in your purse for whenever he’s around—even if they remind you of your ex-best friend—as your way of thanking him for keeping everyone’s records clean. It also helps that he absolutely loves your attention. 

“You’re so annoying, Sim Jaeyun. Let me call Sunghoon, seriously.”

“Dude, chill, look at the cams again. The gap between everyone is getting smaller.”

You check the laptop screen again, and he’s right. You see Jungwon overtake both San and Wooyoung, and while you’re still holding your breath in worry over your baby brother, another part of your heart soars with pride at how good he’s gotten. You’d like to think that he got his driving skills from you, even though it was your stupid prick of an ex-boyfriend who first put him behind the wheel of a car.

But when you look up, you notice that Jaeyun is distracted trying to change the song playing on his phone. And there’s a sharp turn coming up ahead. You feel sick, adrenaline immediately rushing through your bloodstream.

Instead of screaming nonsense, you slam the laptop shut, tossing it on the floor and practically crawling across the center console to grab the wheel with one hand and the e-brake with the other. You drive your knee into Jaeyun’s leg to floor the accelerator, and at the same time, you deploy the e-brake and turn the steering wheel hard. The car drifts around the turn with ease, thanks to him immediately springing into action, tossing his phone somewhere in the cupholders and countersteering as he shifts gears.

“Pay attention next time,” you mutter in annoyance, as if the two of you almost crashing was a slight inconvenience and nothing more.

“Sorry, Mommy,” he snorts, downshifting back to his cruising speed. You give him the middle finger as you watch the cars change formation in front of you. Hyunjin cuts off Wooyoung at the junction between two roads, and Wooyoung swerves in the opposite direction to avoid hitting San to his left. Wonbin approaches from behind San, flashing his lights, trying to get one of them to move over, but they both downshift, forcing Wonbin to brake, fall back, and move over to try and find another opening.

And then it happens.

You hear a distinct 8-liter engine roaring furiously somewhere in the vicinity, but you see nothing. You think for a second that it could be the sound of a police helicopter overhead, but you doubt it, not if San tipped off his family that there would be a race tonight, and he always does, because you remind him to do it. You think that he pretends to forget just so you’re forced to text him and he’ll have an excuse to talk to you, but you don’t really care because he’s sweet and always earns himself the best of your candy stash—although you’ll reluctantly admit that Sunghoon has been the first to get the candy that you carry for yourself. 

Because you’re not allowed to smoke inside Jaeyun’s car, you unwrap another mango Hi-Chew and wonder if Sunghoon would taste like you if you kissed him. Sure, you don’t like him all that much so far, but he’s hot, so maybe you could just hook up with him and dip—

Oh, who are you kidding? You haven’t slept with anyone since your ex, even though everyone thinks otherwise. You’ve made out with San and Hyunjin a few times, much to the amusement of Jaeyun and Jay, but you never let it get past that. You just go home and use your vibrator to finish the job. Sex is too intimate, feels too much like baring your soul to someone else and you don’t want anyone to get too close like that any time soon.

Too close, too close, too close just like the sound of that engine, and it snaps you out of your thoughts. Sunghoon finally turns his lights on, and reveals his location for everyone to see. He’s at the front, way ahead of even Jungwon, who is currently trying to keep Hyunjin off his tail.

No one but Sunghoon ever had a chance to win.

The race ends before you can truly even register this fact, and everyone parks at the base of Namsan Mountain to congratulate the winner, who seems insanely put-off by all the attention.

“Jay,” you say, approaching the Huracan driver quietly, your shoes crunching the gravel beneath you.

He looks up from his phone at you, jawline illuminated by the screen. The way he slightly tilts his phone away from you signals that he’s texting Aeri. You laugh inwardly; he doesn’t know that you know about them secretly hooking up. “Mm?”

“What was Sunghoon’s time?” you ask. Your bottom lip is tucked under your teeth, and you don’t even realize how hard you’re biting down.

“Eight minutes, twenty three seconds.”

You gulp. Like actually, visibly gulp, as if you’re swallowing a hard-boiled egg whole like some cartoon character. “Oh. That’s—”

“Almost a whole minute faster than your record. He told me he took a detour somewhere at the halfway point.”

“He’s good,” you admit. “Just like—”

Jay interrupts you again, pocketing his phone. “Don’t say his name, sweets. They’re nothing alike.”

You turn to him, eyes searching for answers. He simply puts a hand on your shoulder before pulling you into the hug he knows you need right now. “It’s been two years,” you mutter into the fibers of his cashmere sweater, hoping that the knit is dense enough that it drowns out the sound of your voice. “Why do I still bring him up?”

“He was a big part of your life. And ours, too. It’s okay. You’re going to have to accept that none of it was your fault eventually.”

“And stop taking it out on anyone else that comes after him, huh?”

Jay pats you on the back. “Bingo.”

“Wait, no one ever gave me a real answer, but why do Jaeyun and Riki live together? And Jay and Jungwonie?” Sunghoon asks. He’s sitting across from you in the former pair’s living room, letting your younger brother lean against him as the alcohol takes over Jungwon’s weak tolerance.

You raise your glass like it’s an extension of your hand, leaning against the bottom of Jay’s leather couch where you sit beside him. “That was my idea, when I was moving out of my old apartment. I lived there with my ex, until I kicked him out. When my lease was ending, all of us decided to move to a new building—this one—and I figured that each of the two young ones should have a hyung to look after them. But also, I didn’t want anyone living with me.”

The last part leaves everyone silent, and you laugh, adding, “Why do you guys look surprised? I told you that when we were signing our leases.”

Sunghoon looks at Riki to his right, who is trying to make a soju bomb with more soju and less beer, and then across from Riki at Jaeyun, who is egging him on to just drink straight from the soju bottle, and back at Riki, who listens to the Australian intently, like he’s some sort of genius. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

You wave him off. “Oh, yeah. They’re just off the clock right now. You know, can’t be serious all the time.” Oops, another dig at him.

Your phone chimes with notification after notification, and it’s not just updates from Candy Crush. It’s text messages, and not the good kind from Aeri or Soyeon telling you which racer they’ve gone home with tonight.

Before you can silence your phone, though, Jaeyun, who’s on your other side, picks up your phone, laughing exaggeratedly as he waves your glowing screen in the air. “Guys, look! I told you it was gonna happen!”

“What?” Sunghoon asks, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. You shake your head at him and mouth the words “don’t listen to him”.

But then Jay starts cackling, catching your phone over your head when Jaeyun throws it to him in order to read the messages out loud. You don’t even bother fighting their teasing anymore; in fact, you’re a little excited, because you know your boys are about to go in on whoever’s hitting you up. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here! From Wonbin: ‘it was nice seeing you tonight, do you want to hang out this week?’”

“Ewww, gross,” Jaeyun groans with a mouthful of fries. “He was literally trying to sit on the Supra when Y/N pulled up!”

His revelation is met with a chorus of laughs and jeers as your boys mock Wonbin for his transgression, for being so stupid and arrogant to think that you would have just given him a free pass. After all, that car is your baby. You suffered a lot for it, and not just anyone could come up and touch it. In fact, one time, Jungwon was banned from riding in your car for a month because he got his fingerprints on your side mirrors.

“Did San-hyung text noona?” Riki’s nosy ass asks, running up behind the couch and diving onto it to look over Jay’s shoulder. Jay pushes his head away. “Oh, shit, he did!”

Jungwon sighs, slumping further even against Sunghoon. “God, just read it and put me out of my misery. He’s so down bad for her, it’s disgusting.”

Jaeyun giggles, and kicks his sock-covered feet like a schoolgirl. “He’s probably gonna ask her on another date and make her bike along the Han River again.”

This makes you choke on your drink, and it almost comes out of your nose. “Hey, I thought we we agreed not to bring that up.”

“It’s not every day I open my Instagram and see your stupid ass fighting for your life getting hard-launched on his story,” he snorts. “Watching you trying to ride that bike gave me second-hand embarrassment.”

“Yeah, it’s like he didn’t even care that you looked stupid, he was really trying to let everyone know that he was out with you,” Jay adds. “Way to keep it lowkey, or whatever.” Your face burns hot with embarrassment as you realize that Yunie has taken out his own phone to pull up the screen recording of San’s Instagram story to show Sunghoon. Now you actually want to smack the phone out of his hand, but you figure it’s fine, you don’t care if he sees you like that. It shouldn’t matter, he’s just one of the guys now. He could join in the teasing for all you care.

Right?

“Yo, hold the fuck up, Y/N, I thought you and Hyunjin were done?” Jay says, scrolling through your notifications.

Your eyes flick up to Sunghoon, who is currently trying to busy himself with separating the perilla leaves—that no one has so much as breathed in the direction of tonight—as he seems to not pay attention to the video, or to what Jay is saying. Either that, or he really doesn’t find it funny. “Put it away, Yunie,” he says quietly, one hand gently pushing back Jaeyun’s phone towards him. “That’s too much. You’re embarrassing her.”

“I thought so, too,” you sigh at Jay, trying not to acknowledge the fact that Sunghoon may or may not have just stood up for you against your best friend. “He ignored my texts for, like, four days, and you guys know how much I absolutely hate that. I know I lag, too, but never that long. At least I’d tell you that I’m busy or whatever. Fuck’s sake.”

“What did Hyunjin hyung say?” Jungwon mumbles. He’s now using Sunghoon’s lap as a pillow, and the sight makes you feel a little soft. You love your younger brother to bits and pieces, and seeing him like this reminds you of the times he’d come home really tired from school and fall asleep at your dining table while you prepared dinner for the two of you. You often yearn for that period in your life, when things were much simpler and the only thing you were sad about was missing your family.

Now you have a new family, but another part of your heart is broken, and time hasn’t healed it—at least, not completely.

“He’s asking if she’s busy this week,” Riki answers. Part of you wants to drag him by the hair and put him on a one-way flight back to Japan. “Oh, Jay hyung is checking her calendar. Yikes, hyung… You’re still pushing that agenda?”

“What agenda?” Sunghoon pipes up after gulping down the last of his beer, his lips glossy from the liquor.

“Oh, he just thinks they’d be cute together,” the freakishly tall boy rambles, making a gesture out of Jay’s line of sight that signals to Sunghoon that Jay is crazy. The alcohol has made you basically nonverbal at this point, and you just let Riki explain your lore to the hot new member of your racing crew. Hopefully Sunghoon doesn’t remember any of it in the morning.“It’s kind of about time that noona gets a new boyfriend. Personally, though, me and Yunie-hyung are on Team San.”

“Isn’t that up to her though?” Sunghoon muses. “Like, why does it matter if she’s single or dating around?”

“Because she’s not that type of person who actually can do anything casual,” Jaeyun interjects, putting a hand over Riki’s mouth, only to pull away in disgust when Riki licks his palm. He wipes the drool off on Jay’s arm. “She just does it because she doesn’t want to get too close to anyone who isn’t us. So it’s a vicious cycle. She says she’s healing, but she can’t fully heal the part of her that was wounded because she needs to be in a relationship with someone who will be patient with her and prove her wrong. Someone who will help her finally get over… him.”

“I figured, from what you told me before,” Sunghoon says quietly to your supposed best friend. He’s not really being much of a best friend now, you think, even though everything he’s said is both correct and true.

This piques your interest. Your index finger circles around the rim of the open bottle of soju that you’d confiscated from Riki. “What do you know?”

“Ey, Hoon, watch what you say, I don’t want her throwing her drink at me!”

You roll your eyes and look back at Sunghoon. “Don’t listen to him. Tell me what Jaeyunie told you, and I’ll decide if I throw it at him or not.”

“Well—”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Jay says, setting down his now-empty glass of beer with a smug, victorious grin. “Well, actually, I’m not, but I texted Hyunjin back and said you’d meet him at that new fancy Italian restaurant in Gangnam on Wednesday at 7. And before you say anything, yes, you’re free that day. I checked your calendar and your emails.”

You flaked on your date with Hyunjin. To teach him a lesson, of course.

But you do start seeing more and more of Park Sunghoon as the weeks pass, what with him being a full-fledged, initiated member of Enigma now. And you hate to admit it, but he’s starting to grow on you, even though you still think he’s kind of stoic—mostly towards you. You can tell he’s softening a bit, though.

Because, truth be told, you’ve also observed him to be honest and kind and genuine, the latter the rarest thing you see amongst the racers involved in your second life who throw themselves at you like moths to a flame. He’s sincere, but he also doesn’t mince his words, so you have no choice but to take them at face value. You like watching him get along with the other boys in your life, the only ones you truly love, the ones who have done nothing but love you like a family could and couldn’t.

Riki, for one, loves to pester Sunghoon when he’s around and makes you sit and keep score for them while they play table tennis in the game room of your apartment complex. They’re both extremely competitive, and you think to yourself that Sunghoon is such a good sport even when Riki’s elaborate, well-choreographed victory dance gets too annoying even for you to tolerate. You’re pretty sure he adds a new move every single time he does it.

They go to the gym on days where Riki’s done with class early enough to beat rush-hour, and they bring you along for dinner afterwards if you feel like coming. Riki’s now got a debt to pay to you, on account of you wrapping his GT-R in a metallic oil-slick color. You and Sunghoon chose it together, because no one else was replying to you in the group chat. Sunghoon even helped you install it, if helping you meant feeding you dumplings from a takeout container because your hands were full with the heat gun in one and a felt-edge squeegee in the other. 

For an entire weekend, he sat in your garage with you quietly, making idle conversation when the white noise would get too much for even him. He asked you about yourself, and you told him about how you met Jake in third grade, when his family moved to your hometown all the way from Australia, and how you became friends with him only because you were the only one in your class who knew how to speak decent English. (You watched a lot of American TV shows on illegal streaming sites.) In turn, you asked him if he likes his job as an investment banker, and he tells you that he wanted to be an automotive engineer when he was younger, but every man in his family works in finance and expected him to do the same.

This admission prompts you to share that you were supposed to step up and run your family’s successful chain of restaurants, but you refused to do so, choosing instead to run away with your boyfriend at the time and follow him to Seoul for the two of you to go to college. Jungwon even came with you, and you let him. Sunghoon asks you if you regret it. You say no, because, really, you don’t. But you do still have trouble sometimes trying to understand why some of the people you loved the most in this life—your mother, your father, and later on, your boyfriend—did not care if you were happy. 

They only really cared that you did as you were told.

And Jay, much to your amusement, happens to be at the butt of most of Sunghoon’s teasing—whenever he’s in his extroverted mood, that is. They bicker much like Tom and Jerry, but you can tell that they get along just fine deep down. After all, Sunghoon’s been helping Jay decorate his and Jungwon’s apartment, listening (more like tolerating, if anyone were to ask you) to Jay ramble on and on about Herman Miller chairs and Noguchi lamps, and no one else can be in the same room as him when he gets like that, and that’s saying something because your apartment is also decorated in the mid-century modern style. 

Jungwon sometimes tags along with them to furniture showrooms, strictly on the condition that they treat him to a meal afterwards. Sunghoon, not so surprisingly, is always the one who invites you along with them as well, ever since that first night when you complained about the boys getting milk tea without you. You wonder if it’s a pity invite, but you don’t really care much if it is, because he doesn’t seem like the type who does things he doesn’t want to do.

There was this one time two weeks ago that you came along with them to go pick out a new rug—first mistake. Your second mistake was forgetting to eat before leaving your apartment. You sat on a chair clutching your stomach with one hand, scrolling through your phone looking at the drink menus of nearby cafes with the other. Little did you know that Sunghoon, who was standing right beside you, was nosily peeking over your shoulder while also on his phone, typing in the names of whatever menu item you would pause on.

He disappeared for a few minutes after telling you he forgot something in his car. This left you to decompose in your (very cushy) chair while you listened to Jay and Jungwon argue about low-pile versus high-pile rugs. You contemplated how long it would take for them to notice that you’d passed out from hypoglycemia. But then Sunghoon returned, holding a bag from the food delivery app you all like to use. He’d nonchalantly and wordlessly taken out a peach iced tea and a sandwich to hand to you, but you looked up at him like he was God coming down to earth to save you. You thanked him profusely and he actually smiled at you, eyes crinkling up at the corners and turning into pretty crescent moon shapes. 

If you didn’t already know that Jaeyun loves women, you’d think that he has a crush on Sunghoon. You seem to have lost your pet best friend to his new pet rich boy. Jaeyun loves to spend time with Sunghoon, even though he’s not at all very talkative. Regardless, every single time you come over to Yun’s apartment, Sunghoon is either already there or five or ten minutes away, depending on the day of the week and the time at which your best friend invites you over to his and Riki’s apartment. 

Then the three of you, with the occasional addition of any or all of the three other Enigma boys, will inevitably order some takeout delivery and watch a film—”Not a movie,” you insist—until you inevitably start crying at the plot and say you have to go home before the boys really start making fun of you. Sunghoon always walks you to your door, even though you live just down the hall. You always tell him he doesn’t have to, but he always brushes you off and tells you to get your things so you can leave. 

And one time, about a week ago, you heard him scold the other guys for being mean to you, reminding them that even though you’re technically one of the boys, you’re still a girl at heart, and they should make some effort to be nicer to you. You heard him really dig in to Jungwon in particular, and while you kind of felt the urge to come back into the room and defend him, Sunghoon told your brother to show some respect and think about all the things you’d done for him in the past seven years. So you stayed back, still in shock that Sunghoon had spoken up for you so vehemently.

Speaking of your younger brother, your precious baby all grown up, the only family you have left: Jungwon adores Sunghoon, viewing him as the older brother you wished you could have been for him. Yes, Jay and Jaeyun are literally right there, but you can tell that the connection between Jungwon and Sunghoon is different. Jaeyun is good for keeping both Jungwon and Riki out of your hair when you’re busy, and Jay indulges your brother, spoiling him every chance he can get, having no siblings of his own. 

Somehow Sunghoon has gotten through to your brother in terms of his life and his career; after all, he’s close to finishing college soon and doesn’t know what he wants to do just yet. You would kill for a chance to help Jungwon, but you reckon he hasn’t come to you because he doesn't want to add to your stress and you could cry at how considerate he can be when he isn’t teasing you. You promise yourself that one of these days you’ll thank Sunghoon for his help, maybe some time after you finally admit to yourself that you were wrong about him being a prick. And maybe you’ll apologize for making assumptions about him in the first place.

Yes, you’ve been observing the way Sunghoon gets along with everyone, and you’re happy, you really are, but something is gnawing at you. While the arrival of new racers in your scene is nothing new, Enigma itself hasn’t been disrupted since Jungwon met Riki and all of that other shit went down. 

More importantly, you haven't been disrupted for so long. Two years, to be exact. It’s been two years since you got your heart broken twice, and you’ve spent so long holding everyone at arm’s length away from you because you’re not too keen on ever experiencing that again. Sure, you date around, but like Jaeyun said, they don’t mean anything to you. You know what they want and it’s what you refuse to give them. And then this guy, this fucking guy with pretty brown eyes who is soft-spoken and quiet and has the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen in real life… this fucking guy comes in with the audacity to make you feel like he simultaneously likes you and wants nothing to do with you.

Although you think the latter is just a defense mechanism on your part. You’d tried to convince yourself that he only cares about you so that the boys don’t kick him out of Enigma, because if the two of you didn’t get along, there would be no way he could stay on the team. After all, you’re still their best racer, and more importantly, their best friend. But that can’t be all true, because you fight with the boys sometimes, sometimes real petty fights that end in everyone crying, and you’re still an Enigma member through and through. So telling yourself that Sunghoon secretly hates you because of your ways is a lie on your part.

Because right now, about three months after you’ve first met, when you’re at the club with the boys, there’s no way Sunghoon truly doesn’t like you. The rational part of your brain can recognize that; after all, you’ve watched him countless times coldly brush off the advances of random girls in public who see his credit card and try to take advantage of his generosity. 

And you saw with your own two eyes the way he looked at you when you’d asked him if what you were wearing (a white mesh mini dress with baby pink kitten heels) was actually “too much,” and if you should go change like the others had said. You heard with your own two ears when he told you, “It is a bit much, but you look good. If there’s any trouble, don’t worry, I got you.”

It’s a good thing your face was already pink from the makeup you’d dolled yourself up with.

You never have to pay for drinks when you go out. The boys know this. You always tell them to not waste their hard-earned money—or in Jungwon’s case, your hard-earned money—on you when you can get some rich loser to buy you a bottle of Clase Azul if you bat your eyelashes at them and say you want to ring the bell.

Tonight is different, though. Usually you can score some of the top shelf shit without so much as lifting a finger, but because Sunghoon went with you to the bar, you can sense that the men in the club are not willing to put your dirty Shirley Temple on their tab. He doesn’t even have his hand around your waist, but you assume it’s the malevolent energy radiating off him in waves of expensive cologne that have people socially distancing from you like you’ve got the plague.

“Something wrong, Hoon?” you ask him innocently, swapping cocktails with him as you’ve often found yourself doing whenever the two of you are out together. It’s been a running occurrence since you’ve started joining him and the boys on their hangouts. He’ll order whatever you want to try, be it pasta or a coffee, and you can order something else you like. You sip on his Jack and Coke before making a face and taking your tequila sunrise from him.

“Do you want to wear my jacket?” he says, leaning in close so that you can hear him over the thrum of the bass-boosted music. “These creeps are staring at you too hard. It’s freaking me out. Pissing me off, really.”

You shrug. The buzz is starting to really hit you, thanks to your pregaming session at Jaeyun’s before you left for the club. “Doesn’t bother me, I’m used to it. It’s not like any of them have a chance.” You reach over and brush off invisible lint off Sunghoon’s shoulder, lingering a little longer just to feel the hard muscles underneath his clothes. “You do, though.”

He looks at you with his lips pursed in a flat line, a look he often gives Jay when Jay won’t stop pestering him. Then he takes his jacket off and drapes it over you. “Just put this on. I’ll be right back, I have to take a call.” He shows you the glowing screen of his phone, and you can read the contact name. It’s one of his bosses, and you only know this from the time he invited you to have dinner with them (and they’d pestered Sunghoon into bringing a date, since all of them are married).

You nod in understanding and nestle yourself snugly in his leather jacket, the same black-blue-white combination that he’d worn the night you first met. Idly, you sip on your drink, watching the crowd of swaying bodies underneath the colored strobe lights. In the distance, you can spot Jaeyun’s freshly bleached head of wavy hair next to Jay and Wonie, and that’s only thanks to Riki’s freakishly tall frame standing out like a cell phone tower beside them. They’re dancing with a group of girls, and you try not to gag when you see your younger brother let a girl grind up against him.

“Hey, why don’t you take this off? It’s hot enough in here because of you,” someone yells out right beside you, trying to make himself heard over the music. You turn to him, already pissed off because who the fuck says that?

“No thanks,” you say flatly. “I’m good.”

Even if you are feeling a bit hot inside the packed club, there’s something in you that wants to respect Sunghoon’s wishes while he’s gone, because you know behind his cold exterior he means well and it’s his own roundabout way of looking out for you. Either that, or he’s possessive, your delusional brain thinks, catching a whiff of his cologne in the lining of it.

“Well—”

You’re not paying attention to the douchebag beside you. You look back to the crowd and your boys have disappeared, no giant, Oreo-haired Riki to mark where they are. Suddenly, your tequila sunrise threatens to show itself in your throat. You’ve been hit on before, of course, but not like this, not this insistently. You keep your poker face on, trying to figure out how to get away from him but also avoid getting sucked in and trampled on in the giant crowd that just seems to keep doubling in size.

“Is he bothering you, sweetheart?” another voice asks.

You look to your side and he’s there, he’s back, stone-faced and radiating what you would call actual bloodlust. You nod, giving him a look that you hope Sunghoon interprets as get him the fuck away from me.

“You heard her. You’re bothering the lady,” Sunghoon says flatly to the man beside you, in such a manner that leaves no room for argument. “And not just any lady, either. That’s my girl you’re bothering. Get lost.”

You yourself shiver at his tone. You’ve gotten used to seeing the icy but gentle side of him, so this shift startles you, making goosebumps raise on your back in fear and your core clench in need. You decide not to correct Sunghoon, either. The sooner you get out of this bust of a club, the better.

An hour later, you find yourself at one of your favorite restaurants, a little barbecue spot near your apartment building that serves the best marinated galbi you’ve ever had. You’ve taken the boys there countless times, enough for them to make a joke out of it. The place is supposed to be closed right now, on account of it being one-thirty in the morning but when you were in the taxi with Jay and Sunghoon, you overheard the latter on the phone, telling the other person on the line that he’d pay triple to have the place opened for three hours past closing time of midnight.

While Jungwon talks animatedly about the girl in his class who was at the club and how he somehow managed to get her number, Sunghoon serves you before everyone else, putting the strips of grilled meat on your plate. The other boys groan at him, telling him not to indulge you too much or you’ll get used to it and always expect it, just like you’ve done to them. They don’t really mean it, because you know them well enough that they—just like Sunghoon—don’t ever really do things they don’t want to do, but deep down you still hope he doesn’t take their words seriously.

“What’s so bad about that? Ladies first,” is all he replies to them, and you feel warm inside and it’s not just the double shot of peach soju making its way through your body.

“Okay, me next,” Jaeyun says. He’s still got sweat dripping down his forehead from chasing  tequila-drunk Riki and Jungwon down and dragging them both by the collars of their shirts into another taxi. 

Sunghoon looks at him before passing the tongs to him. “Do it yourself.”

“Jackass.”

This makes your smile widen, giggling to yourself uncontrollably. You take delight in messing with Jaeyun, and seeing the always-stone-faced Sunghoon take part in it brings a certain joy to you that’s both unfamiliar and welcomed. You catch his eye and he sends you a wink, so fast you wouldn’t have caught it if you didn’t have the habit of staring at him when you think he isn’t paying attention to you.

“Dickhead,” Sunghoon shoots back, bushy brows furrowed so cutely that you have the tipsy urge to kiss the peachy skin between them.

“Oh, well, at least if I liked a girl, I’d tell her, so I think that makes you the dickhead and not me.” Jaeyun rolls his eyes and takes a piece of meat out of your bowl, popping it into his mouth and seemingly swallowing it whole.

You frown. “What? Sunghoon likes someone? Is it Jimin? It’s Jimin, isn’t it?”

Jungwon and Riki groan. “Great, another idiot.”

Jay points his chopsticks at your younger brothers. “Shut up and eat your food already.”

“Yes, mother,” they say in unison, digging into their bowls of kimchi fried rice. You look down at your own plate, suddenly losing your appetite. You even consider going outside for a smoke break, but that’s how the boys disappeared at the club a while ago, and it’s too late for you to be going outside alone—at least, that’s what you’re very well aware that they’d argue. Your stomach hurts at the thought of Sunghoon liking another girl, and because you’re you, because you’re almost so self-aware to the point that it could put your therapist out of a job, you know it’s because you want him to like you, and only you.

And it’s not even because you want the same control over him that you have over the likes of San and Hyunjin and Wonbin and whoever else claims to be on your sad excuse of a “roster”. It’s because you like him, and it’s to the point that the only other being who knows this for a fact is your pet cat, because only she wouldn’t accidentally tell him the truth. She’s a cat, for fuck’s sake, a cat you unfortunately named after the girl you think Sunghoon might like.

Maybe the boys have noticed. But you doubt it, because if they did, they would have teased you so mercilessly about it that it would be considered bullying that could be punishable under law. It would be so severe that you’d have no choice but to leave the country if they knew.

What they actually do though, that you’ve picked up on in recent weeks, is their new nasty habit of dropping hints about how you should be with a guy who’s cold to everyone but you. Someone who’s both pragmatic yet thoughtful, someone who always tells the truth but can do so in a way that will spare your feelings because he makes an honest effort to not sound so harsh. Someone who can both protect you and yet also be able to get you to stop when you become… “irrational” was how they put it. Someone you’re attracted to, not just physically, but emotionally, as well.

You’re not stupid, no matter how often you think you are. You know they’re talking about Sunghoon. You know Jungwon and Riki will make plans with you and him and then flake at the last minute so that you two are forced to go out together, alone. They’ve done it enough times that you know it’s bullshit that they have a school assignment due at some random time in the evening. You know Jaeyun will loudly ask Sunghoon what he thinks of a certain girl when he knows you’re within earshot. It pleases you every time Sunghoon flatly replies “What about her? I don’t know her like that.” 

And you most definitely know Jay let Sunghoon take you on out to the racetrack to drive his Lamborghini for a few laps, under the guise that you’ve always wanted to go and Jay finally managed to get a slot booked on a day that he “isn’t able to make it” because of a “meeting”. Who the fuck even works on a Sunday? 

You fixate on this memory for a while. You can truthfully say it was one of the happiest days of your life.

“You’re telling me you’ve never used paddle shifters before?” Sunghoon asked with a lopsided grin, pulling into the paddock of the race track. Your leg bounces in your seat, not out of anxiety like usual, but out of impatience and excitement.

“I drive stick, why the hell would I use paddle shifters? Sorry not all of us drive M Comps,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “V8 bi-turbo headass. Can’t believe you run an automatic transmission.”

“I’m ignoring that. I’ll track it first.”

“What? No way, I’ve known Jay longer!”

“You’re going to drive it like it’s a city bus. I’m going to drive it like I stole it. You can sit there and look pretty first, then you can have a turn.”

“Sunghoon, if you’re just going to stare at me, you’re going to crash us into a wall.”

“Nah, my peripheral vision’s pretty good. Why, you don’t trust me?”

You sighed. You do trust him, that’s what bothers you.

Ultimately, the idea of Sunghoon liking another girl makes you a little… irritated. That’s actually a gross understatement, if you’re being honest. You can feel the dragon’s head of your jealous streak rise up from the ashes where it had once laid dormant, asleep. It wants to breathe fire. It wants to get a rise out of him. It wants to see his reaction.

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on whose side you’re on, your best friend knows you too well.

“Y/N, can you pass the salt?” Jaeyun, who is sitting to your left, asks. The salt pot is right next to Riki, who is sitting to your right.

Taking this as your opportunity, you look at him, tilting your head before you say the exact line that, by now, everyone knows that Sunghoon likes to use. “Say please.”

Jaeyun is too intoxicated to fight back, but he knows you well enough even in his inebriated state that he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Please?”

“Okay,” you answer, reaching across Riki’s plate to grab the salt. When you hand it to Jaeyun, his fingers linger on yours way too long to be respectable. There’s nothing there, of course. It just feels normal, no spark, no giddy, lovesick warmth. He’s just being outright obvious.

Picking up on your scheme, Jay chimes in, a malicious glint in his eye that only comes out after you can smell the alcohol on his breath. You see him elbow Jungwon at the end of the table—quite subtly, to his credit. “Ew, what are you two doing? That’s gross, get a room.”

Jaeyun rolls his eyes, giving Jay the middle finger. Oh, he’s playing up the dramatics of your ploy to see if Sunghoon cares or not. This is what being friends with him for pretty much your entire life is all about. “Can’t a guy and a girl be best friends? Chill, bro.”

“Guys and girls can’t just be best friends,” Jungwon adds, his mouth full of rice and barbecue. “That’s such a lie. You don’t see me with a girl best friend, because if I had one, I’d be fu—”

Sunghoon’s knee hits the bottom of the table, causing everyone to jump back in surprise. “Sorry, guys.” He looks at you, staring at him wide-eyed. “And lady. Leg cramp.” He gets up from the table and excuses himself to go pay the bill, talking with the older woman who runs the restaurant and who you know is madly in love with him (much to everyone’s amusement).

“Alright, what’s going on here?” Jay asks in a hushed tone, dropping his smirk and leaning forward. “What are we doing to him?”

“Forcing Sunghoon to confess,” Jaeyun answers back, switching to English so only the three of you can understand. 

You look at him quizzically, but you speak to him and Jay in English anyways. “Wait, what? I just wanted to make him jealous, what are you talking about—”

“Alright!” Sunghoon says loudly from behind you. “Time to go.”

Exchanging looks with your best friends, you collect your things from where they rest on the worn leather seats of the booth. “I’m gonna take a walk first,” you say. “Anyone wanna join?”

“Nah,” Jaeyun answers. “I’m beat. Gonna take the little ones home.”

“Whoooo the fuck are y-you… callin’ little,” Riki slurs, slumped over a sleepy Jungwon’s shoulder. You know your brother is in a food-and-alcohol-induced coma, since he says nothing about the drool Riki’s getting all over his unbuttoned shirt. “Fuckin’ Oompa Loompa.”

“Riks,” you sigh, getting up on your tip-toes to push his sweat-soaked hair from his face. “Be nice to your Yunie hyung.”

“S-sorry noona,” he hiccups, putting more of his weight on Jungwon, who yelps. “I’ll be nice.”

You shoot Jaeyun a warning look, telling him not to egg on the poor boy who looks like he might throw up in his sleep later. “You guys gonna be okay going home?”

“Yeah, bro, it’s only like a block away,” Jay interjects, prying Riki off of Jungwon and hoisting him onto his own back. Jaeyun takes your brother in his hold, grimacing at the skin-to-skin contact of Jungwon’s bare chest on his fingers. “Go take your little walk. Text us when you’re back.”

“Yes, mother, I promise.” You can feel Sunghoon looming over you like a skyscraper. Without turning to him, you ask, “Are you coming with me?”

“Well,” he answers, his huffed breath blowing over your head in cigarette smoke. “Obviously. I’m not letting you go alone.”

“Okay, I guess,” you mutter with the same tone, shivering to yourself. The air is surprisingly cold for the beginning of June, and you’re dejectedly starting to regret your outfit.

And of course, like clockwork, Park Sunghoon notices your discomfort and quietly puts his jacket over you for the second time that night.

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. He acknowledges you with a soft hum, matching your stride as you cross the empty road to the little park nestled behind the flowering trees.

You continue to walk, trying to think, but it’s difficult to burn off the rest of the alcohol and gain some clarity when the man you’re thinking about is right beside you. You would kill to read his mind. You could just ask him, straight up. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? What’s the worst thing he could say? That he doesn’t have feelings for you? That he sees you as a sister? That he actually does like Jimin like that?

Fuck.

You finally admit to yourself that you do like him. You do like him, you do want him, you do feel those things genuinely and not out of greed, not out of wanting to make him one of your trained dogs, not out of wanting to punish your ex through him. 

You… you fucking like him, and it pisses you off. Him, of all people. Liking Jaeyun seems less complicated than this. You know for a fact that Sunghoon is quite possibly the king of hard-to-get. Kazuha and Yunjin, the race girls from AZ, both made a move on him and ended up fighting over him for nothing (which your own girlfriends clowned on them mercilessly for, while you sat back and watched rather smugly). He didn’t even give them the time of day, let alone his phone number. 

Minjeong, your beloved work wife, wanted to test that theory and when you’d left them during dinner one time to go use the restroom, she tried to flirt with him. She ended up meeting you in the restroom with a smirk, telling you that he’s impossible to break. She’d even asked you if you considered the fact that maybe he likes men.

Intrigued, you’d “innocently” asked Jaeyun and Riki, of all people, to get you the answer. Eager to please, and glad that they had some new bullshit to do, they came back to you after three hours of pestering Sunghoon at the gym during their workout. They’d reported that they annoyed him so bad he left them at the gym, forcing them to take the train back home.

That night, he texted the group chat “Not gay. Waiting for my wife” and nothing else.

A big shock to the rest of you, to say the least. The boys were busy laughing at the first sentence, while you were fixated on the latter half of his text. His wife. What a strong choice of words, you’d thought. But it was a good thing, too, that he knows what he wants. At least one of you does. A wife. That’s more definite than just wishing to feel safe and secure around other people.

“Did you eat well?” Sunghoon pipes up, finally breaking the chilly silence between the two of you.

“I did,” you reply curtly, now doing your best to match his pace. It’s hard. His legs are so long, with equally long strides, but you push yourself in your heels anyways. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Why do you always flirt back?” Sunghoon asks. He sounds like he’s been holding that in for a while.

“What? Are you talking about Jaeyunie?”

He grimaces. “No. I know that was just him being him. I’m talking about the others. That Wonbin guy. San hyung. Hyunjin hyung. Whoever the fuck. Them.”

You stop walking, and so does he. He turns around to face you as you incredulously ask, “So suddenly? Why? Does it matter?”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at you. That’s the first time you’ve ever elicited that reaction from him, and it hurts a little. “Yeah, it does. You’re making them think they have a chance with you.”

“Okay, so what?” you say harshly. Really, why does it matter to him? He likes Jimin, doesn’t he? Why is what you do any of his business?

“Well, do they?”

“No!” you snap, hands on your hips. The sound of your voice, echoing through the deserted metal playground, startles the both of you. “None of it is ever serious with them! Men are dogs, anyways!”

“Meow.”

You look at the tall man in disbelief. Under the glow of the lampposts, he looks both sinful and heavenly. Even if he’s pissing you off like never before. Blinking—too shocked to laugh—you ask, “Did you just meow at me, Park Sunghoon?”

“Yeah. Because I’m not a dog, and I’ll prove it to you,” he answers, thick arms crossed over his broad, sturdy chest.

“Why bother doing that? Why does my opinion of you matter to you? It’s none of your business what I think. So why?”

He scoffs. But he can’t seem to meet your eyes. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”

Oh, you’re so annoyed. Why now, of all times, can he not be direct with you? Or is this how he actually is? Has he been pretending to be genuine this whole time? No, that can’t be. People usually can’t keep a facade up for that long without slipping up in between, unless they're sociopaths, serial killers, or both. “No, tell me why. I want to hear it from you. You and your stupid… your stupid… stupid, pretty mouth.”

“Did you just call my mouth pretty?”

“Answer the question, Park Sunghoon!”

He glares at you, but it’s not menacing. After what seems like hours, he sighs, turning away. Then he quietly says, “I love the way you love.”

You realize now that the entire time you’ve been watching Sunghoon, he’s been watching you, too.

“What… what do you mean?”

“The way you care about them. The others… The way you look out for them. For Jungwonie and Riki, always making sure they’ve eaten and they rest enough for school, and that they’re on top of their studies. Jay, you always scold him for working too much. And Jaeyunie, you get worried when he’s not home by a certain time… I realize now that you might not have space in your heart for me. And I should accept that no matter what I do, I’ll always just be another one of your dogs.”

“Sunghoon, what—”

He shakes his head, which hangs low in something you think must be shame. His bangs cover his eyes, so you can’t get a read on him unless you brush them out of his face. And with what he’s just said, you don’t think that now is the best time to touch him. “No. We’re not going to talk about this tonight. Or ever again. I can promise you that. Now come on. I’ll walk you home and we can pretend like this never happened.”

Back in your apartment, you lay in bed, wishing that there was still enough alcohol in your system to put your restless mind to sleep. But there isn’t, not after you walked it all off with an awkwardly silent Sunghoon escorting you back to your apartment. You’d offered your couch for him to sleep on—not out of pity, you’d told him. Out of worry. The trains had stopped running and there were no taxis coming to your side of town anytime soon.

He looked like he really wanted to stay. But for whatever reason, he shook his head at you again, told you it was okay, and said he’d walk home.

You’d texted him to keep you updated on where he was. He didn’t reply. You just got a single notification that “Park Sunghoon has started sharing locations with you,” and that was that. No actual message from him. You share yours right back, telling yourself that it’s fine, all the other Enigma boys had your location, too. But you know the truth.

Sitting up, you reach for your phone and your purse, fishing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, both of which you’d stolen from Jaeyun. He would steal them back from you very soon, anyways, what with him sharing one singular, pitiful peach blueberry ice-flavored vape between himself, Jungwon, and Riki.

Your cat follows you curiously as you walk into the living room and slide the glass door to the balcony open. She curls up in your lap when you sit down on the rocking chair, just as she always does when you come out to smoke.

“You know this is bad for you, right?” you joke quietly, scratching her head with the hand not holding a cigarette. “You should be inside, breathing the purified air I pay good money for.”

Mrrow.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I should stop. But you should be proud of me. I don’t even do it that often.” That’s actually the truth. You and the boys all say that drunk cigarettes don’t count, and you can’t call yourself a smoker if you only go through one pack every two weeks at the very least. By Seoul nightlife standards, your lungs are healthy. “You can hiss about it to your Jaeyunie-oppa.”

Meow.

“Okay, Jiji. Whatever you say.” You take a long drag before pulling away, flicking the ash onto the ceramic tray that Riki brought back for you as a souvenir the last time he went home to Japan. “Fuck, I really do like him. Sunghoon. Not Yunie, ew.”

Mah?

“Because… because… I just do. He’s so… he’s so not like… you know. Heeseung.”

Your cat stiffens on your lap at the mention of your ex’s name. You laugh to yourself, knowing that there’s no one in this world she despises more than him.

“He’s not… he actually cares about me. He doesn’t have to tell me; I don’t even have to ask him if he does. I see it now. And it’s different from how he cares about the boys. I know it’s not just because I’m the only girl. I’ve seen the way he treats other girls. So… he probably doesn’t like Jimin, huh?”

Jiji perks up at the mention of her full government name, but then looks at you as if to say, are you fucking stupid?

“Yeah, I am, haven’t you noticed? I talk to you all the fucking time.”

Aaow.

“No, I don’t just like him because I get preferential treatment. I just—he never does anything to stress me out. I know he considers my feelings, I mean, fuck, he always tells Jaeyunie and Jungwonie to stop making fun of me when we’re hanging out, and, like, he’s always doing shit for me without me having to ask him or even hint at it. He just… he does it because he wants to? And being around him makes me calm. And he’s strong. And he’s kind, and he doesn’t brag about all the nice fucking things he does for everyone, for me… And… and…”

You lose your momentum as your face begins to sting, tears welling up in your eyes. You can hear the pain in Sunghoon’s voice when he said he’d “always just be one of your dogs” echoing in your head. 

“And he doesn’t lie.”

Lying is something you’ve always had a hard time stomaching. As a child, you were taught that it was better to tell the truth and be punished once than to get caught in a lie and get punished twice. You don’t feel good when you lie. Not even when they’re little white lies, like the one you told Hyunjin about Jungwon being sick when you’d flaked on your date with him.

So when you’d found out that Kim Sunoo, Jungwon’s best friend since literal birth, had been helping Heeseung hide his secret relationship with Sunoo’s own cousin, Chaewon—and had been accepting money from Heeseung to help him keep that secret—you lost your fucking mind.

You’d been through everything with your boyfriend. You abandoned your family for him. You moved to a new city with him. You slept on the floor of a shitty apartment for months with him, while Jungwon was stuck in the dorms of his university with three other roommates. You took home leftovers from the restaurant you worked at all throughout college to feed yourself and your brother.

All of that which you endured, just to find out that everything was a lie.

Heeseung didn’t love you as much as he said he did. Because if he did, he would never have gone behind your back with someone else for months and had the nerve to kiss you with the same mouth he used to lie to you.

Sunghoon doesn’t lie, you tell yourself.

He’s not him, he’s not him, he’s not him.

And it’s a good thing. It’s a very good thing.

Sunghoon, for as long as you’ve known him, always keeps his promises. But you also hope that he breaks that last promise he made to you.

You don’t make any appearance at the next race, which is a week later. You purposefully ignore the group chat when they ask you where you are, if you’re coming to watch Riki beat Shotaro and get his revenge for the last time they’d raced against each other.

They get the message—or lack thereof—loud and clear, and leave you alone. You’re grateful that they don’t pry, although Jaeyun texts you separately to scold you about “making Hoonie sad”. You reply to him with the middle finger emoji, even though you know he’s right. For once, at least.

You get texts from Jimin, Soyeon, and Aeri in the racer girls’ group chat, all of them pouting about how you’re not going to see Jimin and Soyeon race against each other in their newly-modified cars. You apologize and wire Aeri a million Won, telling her to place a bet on your behalf for Riki to win in his race. You stop replying when Jimin and Soyeon get on your ass for not being able to choose between who between the two of them would win.

Minjeong had said something to you at work a couple days ago that made your stomach not be able to stop hurting since. Because she’s the most neutral-territory friend you have, you told her exactly what happened between you and Sunghoon, not sparing any detail—not even the thing he’d said to you that made you feel like a monster.

“You can’t build a new house with the bricks from the last one and expect it to be different.”

She’d said it so casually, like she’d read it off the subject line off the first email in her inbox, but it struck you so hard, hammering in what Jay told you the first night you met Sunghoon. To stop taking out your pain on every man that tried to come your way after Heeseung.

In your defense, again, it wasn’t like they were truly serious about you, anyways. Except Sunghoon, who refused to play your games and refused to flirt back with you whenever you’d try to make a pass at him.

It was your automatic distrust of him that brought you here, sulking at home, feeling helpless beyond your control. What made it worse was that Sunghoon definitely knew why you are the way you are, what with Jaeyun’s big fat ginormous mouth being unable to stop itself from spilling all the gory details of your past to him before you two had even met.

There’s a knock at your door. You find that odd; everyone should be out on the road right about now. You check your friends’ locations on your phone to see who could possibly be in your building right now.

You see Sunghoon’s contact photo right above the glowing blue dot that signifies where you are.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

“Y/N?” he calls out, muffled by the thick wood of your front door. You turn to Jji, who is looking at you curiously.

“Go, bedroom.”

Obediently, your cat runs to your room, and you can tell she uses her back legs to kick it shut behind her by the way it closes softly. It’s a trick that Jungwon and Riki spent an entire week of their summer vacation last year teaching her to do, and this is the first time it’s ever been useful.

You check yourself in the mirror in the entryway to make sure you look at least somewhat presentable. You’re wearing Aeri’s light pink sweatpants and a massive white t-shirt you’re pretty sure Riki left in your car once and completely forgot about. You shrug. It’ll have to do.

You open the door. Your voice comes out harsher than you intend it to. “What are you doing here, Sunghoon?”

The man flinches almost imperceptably, but the glimpse of it still has your heart twisting in your chest. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s not a question of if I hurt you or not with what I said, because I know I did.”

You purse your lips, trying to process the fact that he’s apologizing to you without you having to prompt him for it. “Oh…”

He continues shakily. “I realized that I didn’t tell you the truth. The full truth. I like you, I really do. Like, not just as a friend, you know. I like you like… that. Fuck, sorry, I’ve never had to do this before.”

You smile at him softly, looking up at him. The light in the hallway illuminates the crown of his head like a halo, making him look more ethereal than he usually is. “Never?”

“Yeah, never. It’s usually the other way around, but I caved this time.” He sighs. “You’re a special girl. You don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

You shrug. “Oh, I think I have some idea.”

“Meaning?”

“I thawed you out, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you really did. So—”

“Just come in,” you say, stepping aside to make room for him. “Sorry, I don’t have anything to offer you besides water or strawberry milk, but we can go raid Jay’s fridge. I have a key.”

He laughs. “That’s okay. I can order takeout for us.”

“What’s behind your back?”

He holds up a bundle wrapped in clean white paper. “I brought these for you. They’re not, um… they’re not really ‘I’m sorry’ flowers so much as they are ‘will you go out on a date with me?’ flowers.”

“Roses,” you muse, taking the bouquet from him. The arrangement is simple yet stunning, with various shades of muted pink that you realize are quite similar to the color of your Supra. “How original.” You pause, your voice softening. “But thank you, though, really. They’re beautiful.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “I wanted to get you lilies, but I learned that they’re toxic to cats.”

You stare at him for a moment, dumbfounded. He’s so considerate, he even thought of that. Is there anything that he doesn’t think about? Is this what he does when he zones out? “Who told you that I have a cat?”

“You mentioned it a few times,” he answers softly, like he’s reminding you to breathe. “Like that one time Riki made us take him to the arcade and spent too much money trying to win the stuffed… whatever that was from the claw machine.”

“Hm. I did, huh?”

“Yeah... So can I see it?”

“My cat? That’s a little forward, don’t you think? Aren’t we moving too fast?”

“Your pet cat, you brat.” His grin is wide, though, as he looks down at you adoringly. 

“Oh! Oh, yeah, duh.” You take your phone out and swipe through your camera roll until you come across a picture of your white ragdoll cat, her pretty blue eyes staring at you much in the same manner that Sunghoon is right now. “This is her. Her name’s Jimin… erm, yeah, like the one we know… but I call her Jiji.”

“She’s cute… she kinda looks like you, hm? Is she not here right now?” he asks, scanning your living room. “Is she okay?”

“Oh, I sent her to my room before I answered the door—she doesn’t really like guys except for Wonie and Riki but I think it’s because she thinks they’re her servants. And, uh, also, I don't know if you're okay with cats.”

“Ah. I like cats, don’t worry. I’d love to meet her if that’s okay with you.”

“She might scratch you, though. Just a warning.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. You’d bandage me up, though, right?” When he smiles at you reassuringly, your heart thrums. You don't hear any innuendo in his voice, nothing that suggests that he expects something more from you. Turning away to hide your blushing face, you mumble a “yes” and make a beeline to your room to retrieve Jiji.

You get to the door and open it. She’s standing right in front of you, looking at you expectantly, as if she's asking you where Sunghoon is. 

“In the living room,” you answer. You’re talking to your fucking cat. What’s new? Jiji struts right past you, her tail flicking against your ankles, and trots to the living room. 

You follow her from a distance and watch as she pauses in front of Sunghoon, who extends a hand down for her to sniff at. 

“Hello, Jiji,” he says softly. “Nice to meet you.”

The cat chirps at him, and your eyes widen. Usually, she greets males (mostly your ex and his friend) other than your boys with something akin to a hiss that sounds like slicing someone’s tires open. Sometimes she swats at them, claws out and everything. But she hesitates for a second before butting her little head into Sunghoon’s palm, eyes closed and purring up a storm much like the way she does when she wants you to give her a treat. 

“Wow,” you remark. “She likes you. A lot.”

Sunghoon hums in agreement before saying, “Yeah. Wonder what her mommy thinks of me, though. And if she’ll go on a date with me.”

You blush yet again. He’s certainly dialing up the charm tonight. Mustering up the courage to flirt back, you reply, “I think… yeah, her mommy likes you too. And I think she will go out with you.”

“Mm.” He pets Jiji’s head, scratching between her ears which prompts your cat to roll over and expose her soft belly to him for him to rub. Whore, you think to yourself, as if you wouldn’t have done the same thing. “That’s good. I’m glad. Actually—scratch that. I’m relieved.”

By now you’re very well-acquainted to the way he speaks, straight to the point without very much embellishing in his sentences. At least it’s not hard to guess what he’s thinking. He doesn’t talk with the intent to deceive or play games, and, quite frankly, you adore that about him.

“I don’t just want you to care about me. I want you to let me care about you,” he says suddenly, looking up at you with round, sparkling eyes. He’s being forthcoming and earnest. Enthusiasm suits him well, you think. It makes his face look younger, softer, happier. “I want to earn your trust. I want you to feel safe with me.”

“I already do, though,” you reply, voice quiet as if you don’t want to jinx it somehow.

He gives you a nod of acknowledgement. “I know. But I want to be the one you come to for everything. For anything at all.”

“But—”

“You’d never be a burden to me,” he adds. “You couldn’t, even if you tried.”

There’s still enough time for you to go watch the final event of tonight’s race, the showdown between Riki and Shotaro. You hurriedly fix your hair and throw on a jacket, not caring about how your outfit looks because, frankly, you’re not interested in showing off tonight. You know for certain now that the only person whose attention you’ve wanted has been yours all along.

When you arrive, you can see that the Enigma boys are all circled around what you assume is Riki’s GT-R, only because you can see the underglow bouncing off everyone’s shoes. Leave it to your youngest to be annoying as usual.

You get out of Sunghoon’s car and head over to them, him following closely behind you. You pinch Jaeyun’s forearm and he immediately steps to the side to let you through so you can see what’s going on.

The engine hood is up, and you can see someone’s legs sticking out from under the car.

“What’s going on?” you ask no one in particular.

“Well… Riki fucking forgot to change his oil today, and the jack broke halfway, so none of us can fit under there… except Ning,” Jungwon answers.

“Ning?” you repeat.

“Yeah. The girl I’ve been seeing…” he mumbles. “You know, the one from school.”

Your heart drops at the idea that you’ve been so caught up in your own angst that you haven’t bothered to keep up with anyone else’s life, especially your own brother’s. “Oh. I see. She knows cars, huh?”

“Well,” Riki shrugs. “I guess. Jungwonie-hyung gave her the worst instructions on how to change this shitbox’s oil, and she’s doing it just fine, so she must be smart.”

Before Jungwon can even reach Riki, Sunghoon grabs him by the collar of his shirt, holding him back. “Chill out, bro.”

Jungwon glares at the taller man. “Hey, just because my sister thinks you’re hot doesn’t mean—”

“Good lord,” Jay groans. “Can we please have five minutes of peace so I can start this race? I want to go home already. I can feel my bed calling me.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon snickers. “It’s calling you to wash the damn sheets, you slob.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. Shaking your head, you approach Ning, who’s just rolled out from underneath the GT-R.

“Surprised you didn’t go blind in there,” you say, helping her up. “Riki’s lights are no joke.”

She smiles at you, shaking her head. “Actually, it helped, I could barely see anything down there, it was all covered in brake dust.”

This makes everyone burst out into laughter, mocking Riki for poorly maintaining his car. You roll your eyes, taking the wrench from Ning. You turn to Sunghoon.

“Hoon, can you help me with this? I think we’re gonna need more than an oil change to win tonight.”

“Hey!” Riki exclaims. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Language, young man,” you snap back at him before looking at Sunghoon. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Headlight air intake?” he asks, a smile forming on his plush lips.

You grin. “Headlight air intake.”

“Oh, you guys are officially fucking crazy,” Jay whistles, admiring your handiwork when you’re done. With Sunghoon’s help, you’d removed one of Riki’s precious LED headlights to allow more airflow into the engine, enabling him to push the car harder without fear of overheating. “Poor Taro isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

“This is legitimately worse than the time Y/N Viper-swapped her Supra,” Jaeyun giggles, clapping his hands together in glee. “Ooh, everyone’s so fucked. They’re lucky she doesn’t drive with a missing headlight, too.”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Sunghoon jokes. “She can barely see at night as it is.”

“Oh,” you flirt back, “Is that why I think you’re more handsome in the daytime?”

Riki and Jungwon fake gagging noises behind you, but you smile.

“We’re making it out of the hood tonight, boys!” Riki hollers from his position at the finish line. Jungwon is beside him, at the wheel of his 350z. To Jungwon’s other side is Shotaro, looking annoyed. You can see him glare a hole into the back of Riki’s head as he walks behind your brother and his friend.

“Since when was Itaewon considered the hood?” you call back at him. Everyone laughs.

You see Jaeyun whisper something into Jimin’s ear, and she giggles. Meanwhile, Jay, awkward as he can be sometimes, plants a kiss on Aeri’s forehead. “Is it fucking cuffing season or something?” you mutter under your breath, thinking it was low enough that no one hears your annoyance.

“Us next,” Sunghoon responds cooly from behind you, draping an arm over your shoulder. “How’s that sound?”

“Holy shit,” Riki gasps, dramatically putting a hand over his mouth. “Sunghoon-hyung’s—”

“Got some serious rizz,” Jungwon finishes. “And if it weren’t directed towards noona, I’d cheer him on.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Won, you act like you haven’t wanted them together since you first met him.”

Jungwon pouts cutely and shrugs. “Yeah, yeah. It’s more fun to pretend to be an opp, though.”

You glare at your brother. “Wanna see a real opp? I’ll tell Ning that you like to—”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He turns to Sunghoon. “Hyung, did you know that noona sometimes drools in her sleep?”

“I do.”

“WHAT?” the boys chorus like they’re in a cartoon.

Sunghoon looks at them with pure curiosity. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I know? She fell asleep and drooled all over my arm when we watched Interstellar for the fifth time.”

“Sunghoon!” you squeal. “You’re not supposed to tell them that happened!”

“Wait, fifth?” Jaeyun asks, hands sassily placed on his hips. “We’ve only watched it four times.”

You and Sunghoon exchange a look, your face heating up. “Well, uh…”

“Nevermind that,” Jay interrupts, his arm around Aeri’s waist. “We know you two hang out without us. Jaeyunie’s just fucking with you.”

“Yeah,” Riki agrees. “In fact, we want you guys to hang out without us.”

You look at Ning, rolling your eyes. “See what you’re getting into?”

She gives you a warm smile. “I don’t mind.”

park sunghoon: We’re still on for our date tonight, yes?

you: yeah! what are we doing?? i can pick a spot if you don’t have anything in mind

park sunghoon: None of that from you, princess. Just be ready by 7, I’ll pick you up. Our reservation is at 7:30. I already made sure you’d like the restaurant and you can wear that black dress you bought last week.

… Princess?

you: how…?

park sunghoon: Well, I know what food you like because we’ve gone out to eat so many times. And also, I saw you post the dress on your story when you tried it on in the fitting room, so I figured you got it. 

park sunghoon: Before you get upset thinking I’m controlling what you wear, I’m not. I know you have a hard time choosing your outfits (even though they’re all very nice) and the dress looked lovely on you.

He’s trying to make your life easier. You smile to yourself, face going hot. You bite your knuckles to keep yourself from screaming at your desk.

you: oh… okay!

you: i’ll see you later hoon :)

park sunghoon: Can’t wait. Have a great day at work, beautiful.

God, you want to throw your phone across the office with how giddy you are. You finish work early by skipping your lunch break, and you go home at 2:30 in the afternoon, thanks to Minjeong excitedly whisper-yelling at you that she’ll cover for you and to “Go get some dick, girl!” and smacking your ass as you scurried to the elevator. When you arrive home, you immediately run to your bathroom and turn on the shower. You’ve got music blasting from your speaker while you wash your hair and shave and scrub down your entire body. You’re smiling at yourself in the mirror while you dry your hair and do your skincare routine, and you’ve still got a good four hours to get all dressed up for your first real, official date in years.

taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @venomhee @lilifiedeans @sngleehee @hoonfr @seuomo @en-verse @starfallia @eloelooo @lhspeachie @idkdykilr @seochannnn @moon368 @capri-cuntz @p-d1ddy @xxbluestrifexx @p4ranormaluv @laurradoesloveu

[darkwicks]

Fall From Grace

Caleb gives you a little encouragement.

PAIRING.⠀Xia Yizhou | Caleb x Reader

CONTENT.⠀female reader | begging, corruption, teasing, vaginal sex. Caleb is a menace. | ~0,6k words

A/N.⠀let's unlearn shame together........ (i say as if i'm not going to pretend this never happened)

available on AO3 | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

“Caleb, it’s too much…!”

You pushed your hands against him as you tried to squirm away from his relentless assault against your core. The wet squelches between your legs made the tips of your ears burn red, shame and guilt brewing deep within your gut. It was embarrassing to be naked in front of him like this, even more so being under his heated gaze as he never took his eyes off of you. His hands pushed your knees against your chest, practically folding you in half as he chuckled through his panting, fingers digging into your skin.

“Don’t be shy,” he cooed. “Couples do this all the time. Didn’t you know that?”

You brought your hand up to cover your eyes, turning your head to the side. The pleasure building up inside of you was making it difficult to focus, and you knew you should be letting it go, but you couldn’t. You were committing a sin, an act of hedonism, and your family would lose their minds if they found out what you were doing. The shame was growing strong, and yet, your heart raced in excitement.

There was something… satisfying about breaking out of the rules you’ve been given. You felt different, mature, but it was still hard getting rid of the negativity within you. You threw your head back against the pillow, shaky, breathy moans escaping your lips.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” His lips curled into a smile, pleased at your display. “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“Caleb,” you whimpered. “You’re so mean.”

“I’m mean?” He huffed, amused. He slowed down his thrusts, the act both relieving and horrifying you as your eyes snapped open, staring at him in disbelief. “Guess I won’t keep this up, then.”

You kicked your feet petulantly, pouting when he grabbed and stopped you with ease.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I can’t say it,” you mumbled, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“You can,” Caleb said with a soft lilt. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched at his vulgarity. “I-I can’t.”

“Then I won’t.” He slowly pulls his hips back, his hardness rubbing against your slick walls as he did so. You peeked at him from the gap between your fingers, cheeks heating up under his stare. “Guess we’ll stop here—”

“No!” you blurted out. Your hands were shaking. He gently pried them away, gently holding them in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. The smile never left his features.

“Then say it.”

You felt as though the world was closing in on you as all your blood rushed to your face, heart pounding hard against your ribcage. His gaze was intense and made you want to sink into the mattress, to disappear, but as he was about to fully pull out, you frantically brought your legs down to wrap them around his waist and pulled him close.

Averting your eyes, you mumbled quietly, “Please fuck me.”

“I can’t hear you, pipsqueak.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” you whined. He laughed softly and leaned down to gently kiss you, hands squeezing your hips warmly. Your bottom lip jutted into a pout as you looked up at him pleadingly, eyes glassy with tears. “W-Want you to fuck me, Caleb.”

He slid back in, making your toes curl. “There we go. Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

The way you brought your hands over your face again made him chuckle again. His hips rolled into yours, easily pinning you to the mattress as you helplessly gasped and moaned beneath him. His lips travelled your jaw to the side of your neck, lightly nipping at your skin just to keep you on your toes. Your dazed, flustered expression brought forth mischief and satisfaction. You’d cave in eventually. You just needed a little encouragement—you’d be addicted to him soon.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Not on the carpet! | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Notes: Different from the other ones. Reader knows what his husband does for work.

Summary: Your dear Husband comes home with blood and all you want is it to not touch the dam carpet!!

Warnings: Blood - Canon Violence - Suggestive -

The Salesman knows he is not looking his best right now. Not after having to kill some people who were getting too close to the truth of the games.

And he knows what his dear wife will say once he opens the door. Instead of a warm smile a look of panic will be there. Not for him.

"Dont let that blood fall on the carpet!" You tell him in a stern tone coming to greet him when you did hear the door open but stopped after seeing the blood on him.

"Hello my Love. I hope your day went better than mine" He says pulling off his suit jacket but not moving from the entrance.

Last time he did get blood on the carpet not only was he forced to clean it himself. He was banned to the guest room (no problem the bed its comfortable). But his lovely wife banned him of sex. For a week. And she did nothing but keep temting him all week. Wearing pajama shorts that barely covered her ass and let him see her legs. Light colored shirts that let him see her tits and nippels.

Oh, how he wanted to just throw you over the table and fuck you nice and rough. Make you forget your name and only know his. He wanted you to regret it.

But he had to demostrate he did have some self control. So on the last night exaclty when the clock did hit the final time he was on you like a dog in heat. Pulling you over his lap, touching all the exposed skin and leaving bruises behind.

And while that sex was amazing. He would prefer to not be on another week without sex.

"Here" You did appear again giving him a big plastic bowl so he could put his dirty clothes in. "I will wash it later. I can only imagine how much of a pain its going to be" Your face did show the small anger towards it.

"Sorry Love. But the blood of these worms seems to be as dirty as them" He responded removing his tie too.

"You are not injured, right?" You asked seeing some blood on his cheeck but he just dismisses your question with a move of his hand. "Good. Let me get you some cotton and water then"

"Im finally allowed inside my home?" He half joked as he saw you go then do a stop and look back at him. "It did not get on my shirt I promise"

He remembers that one time when it did get on his shirt. He had to sat for then minutes of you scolding him.

"...Then come. But you know what will happen if I see a single blood drop!"

The Saledman groaned following you into the big bathroom taking a seat on the toilet. "Not sex ban again my Love" He begged pulling you close so he could get his face against your stomach "Jerking off to pictures of you or videos of us its never enough. I need the real thing" To add his point he gives your ass a firm grip.

You try to ignore him as you get some water and cotton to clean off the blood from his face.

"Dont be a baby" Its your response as you slowly clean his handsome face. Glad to see that there are not injuries but just dry blood as he said. "And you did make up for it when the week ended" You added the memory still fresh on your mind.

"I came so fast" He says his eyes never leaving you. Him falling for you soft touch. "I was inside you and then I just filled you up so fast" he sounded so dissapointed with himself.

"You did. But it was a lot. I believe we should let your balls get as much cum as they can so you can fill me up really nice"

The Salesman let out a small sound between a laught and a groan. "Dont make me pull you against that wall...I still need to shower so you dont get the smell of these men"

You smiled at his possessive nature giving him a kiss on the head once you were done cleaning him.

"And I havent finish making your favorite food. So looks like we both will have to attend diferent things before I can greet you properly"

"You are my favorite food. You always taste so divine. I wish I could be between your legs all day. Making you cum over and over again. Getting all of hit on my face and chin. I will lick it up so good. You would be crying from how much stimulation you are getting. But I know you would not care about it. You would let me keep going, because you love me. And you love what I do to you"

You blushed hard under his gaze and his smirk. He was not wrong. And that scene did happen once. You were so wasted after it...you could barely walk let alone think straight. You were like a doll and he loved it. He loved being the cause of your pleasure.

"Yeah well. Maybe later" one look from him made you crumble. There was not a "maybe" it was a "defenetly" and part of you believed he would not wait till you ended dinner.

"Its a promise my Love" He said kissing your hand and wrist. He closed his eyes as he smelled your skin. Oh how he loved it. It was just...you and it was all he needed. "Go and try finishing that dinner for me. But...maybe I will skip it and go for the special plate of the house"

You let out a small smile your face burning. "Go on, get on that shower first" You said leaving him to be "I will bring you a new set of fresh clothes"

"Thanks Love" Your Husband responded removing his shirt in order to get inside the shower, his mind already thinking on the idea of having you for himself once he removes the smell of these worms from himself.

And, oh how much he is going to enjoy every second of it.

[eringobragh420]

ᥫ᭡ DAMIAN PRIEST dating headcanons ᥫ᭡

♣️ Pairing — Damian Priest ♥︎ f!Reader (no use of y/n) ♣️ Word Count — 1k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Mention of breeding/size kink, dirty talk (18+) ♣️ Taglist — If you'd like to be added, please click here! ♣️ Shoutout — @caramara3 Thanks for this idea and the encouragement! ♣️ MASTERLIST

°˖➴  Damian is a drunk kisser. Wet, smacking. Loud. Devouring. Sometimes too much tongue, but easily remedied by a playful bite to the tip. Deep, feral moans. Pausing only to watch your lips swell with each nip of his teeth.

°˖➴  Damian always drops a heavy, possessive, tattooed, muscular arm around your shoulders. He knows you like the weight. The blatant display of ownership. A constant. Summer heat, sweat, anger, fatigue. Always.

°˖➴  Damian outed your relationship without asking. On the red carpet of a movie premiere, no less. Maybe it wasn’t an accident that you’d run into him at that specific moment. You know, the one where he pulled you to him for a photo opportunity, only to wrap his arm around you, dip you, the slit in your dress opening so your bare leg could wrap around his waist, and you would never deny him a kiss, but then after the kiss, how could you be angry with him for not asking? Flashbulbs. But his smile was brighter.

°˖➴  Damian is a grab-ass. If he’s not staring at your ass, he’s got it in at least one of his hands. And if he can’t do either of those, he’s looking at pictures of you on his phone. Sleeping in just your panties, one leg bent on the mattress. Gratuitous, zoomed in bathing suit shots. And of course the all-nude ones—some you know about, some you don’t. Spanking has become his very favorite hobby. The way your cheeks jiggle, the rising heat from your angry skin. The fucking sound.

°˖➴  Damian’s family is loud, and big, and just as protective over him as he is over you. But when you middle-name him. Loudly. In front of everyone. For taking the last piece of his mother’s delicious dessert without even offering it to you. You are instantly accepted as one of their own.

°˖➴  Damian took notes in the beginning. When you told him your favorite color, he opened the Notes app on his phone and typed it in. Same with your favorite movies, music, clothing brands, makeup products. And if you ever mention the words bucket list, he adds that to a special list he plans on helping you to complete. He no longer needs the favorites list, but he can’t bring himself to delete it.

°˖➴  Damian prefers it when you do his hair. Whether it’s simply brushing it and applying leave-in conditioner. Or pulling it into a sleek ponytail. He lets you flat iron it, even though it’s not his favorite, but he knows it’s yours. He likes it when you tie in his braids before a show, watching you in the mirror as you giggle with nearby talent, hardly needing to look to make them perfect. Your touch gentle, precise, confident.

°˖➴  Damian feels honored when you ask him to teach you Spanish. You’re his apt pupil, soaking up every lesson, the perfect student. Especially during tests. Every right answer resulted in the removal of an article of clothing. You became a fast learner indeed for Professor Priest, fluent in less than a year.

°˖➴  Damian has a size kink. The top of your head barely reaches his pecs, and you fit like a puzzle piece under his arm. Looking at pictures of the two of you standing together makes his cock twitch. He knows he’s capable of breaking you when he’s pounding away between your spread legs, and that thought’s made him cum on more than one occasion. People stare at the two of you when you’re out for your nightly walks around the neighborhood, and one time you heard a woman whisper to her husband do you think she needs help? 

°˖➴  Damian winks at the camera whenever he feels the need to tell you he loves you. It doesn’t happen during every match, sometimes it happens more than once. It’s a peculiar sensation that washes over him, a sudden urge to confess his love to the woman of his dreams. And there are times he does it during interviews or promos. Same thing, same sensation. He doesn’t know if you see all of them. Doesn’t even really care.

°˖➴  Damian has night terrors. After nearly drowning as a child, he’s been plagued by nightmares he doesn’t remember. Waking up in the middle of the night screaming, thrashing, sweating. His pupils even dilate sometimes. And every bit of it petrifies you, but you stay beside him. You protect him from harming himself on nearby furniture. You whisper in his ear as he squirms how much you love him, you’re here, you’re not going anywhere, he’s safe. He doesn’t remember any of it. Ever. Just falls back asleep in your arms, and you cuddle up next to him, wishing you could take it all away.

°˖➴  Damian has a breeding kink. His favorite is when you tell him not to cum inside you because you forgot to take your birth control. All part of your many role playing scenes. But the both of you get so into it, sometimes he has to hold your arms down to keep from fighting him. And sometimes you beg him with terrified eyes to please pull out. And he tells you it’s okay, angelita, you’re gonna be so fucking pretty pregnant with my baby. Everybody’s gonna know how good you take my cum.

°˖➴  Damian loves taking selfies. When you’re at a concert, backstage at a show, on a plane, on the beach. If you’re not under his arm, you’re kissing his cheek, or he’s kissing your temple, or your lips are connected. Never any space between you.

°˖➴  Damian is a blanket stealer. He’s large, a lot of area to cover, so you couldn’t be upset when you woke up shivering in the middle of the night. Though that never stopped you from slapping him awake and yanking the covers over yourself. This was an every night occurrence until you purchased separate blankets. And the first night with the separate blankets? Yours ended up on the floor and you’d cuddled under Damian’s blanket and around Damian’s body, neither of you thieving a blanket ever again.

Part II coming soon!

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