#that’s fair right?? if not let me know-

[mangled-by-disuse]

without taking away from any of the rest of this:

"Was then placed in solitary confinement for weeks. Something extremely damaging psychologically to be exposed to for even just a few days. Something usually reserved for cannibals." [bolding mine]

I understand the importance of making it clear how bad solitary confinement is (it is a torture method! it has psychological and physical impacts that can last decades! it also increases recidivism btw!), but this sits badly with me. Not because it's overplaying the situation with Mangione, but because it underplays how commonly and brutally solitary confinement is used.

According to the U.S. Department of Justice (FY 2022 report), 10% of all prisoners reported spending 30 days or more in solitary confinement during their sentence.

It is also used against migrants and prisoners showing signs of mental illness, as well as in many mental health facilities. It is, famously, a preferred method in counter-terrorism, with most subjects of that ALSO being held without charge or trial and with little to no evidence of guilt.

(and let's not pretend that the UK is better on this front. according to this report from last year, around a third of child offenders experience solitary, many reporting solitary confinement for as long as 80 days. and while we don't know the numbers for adults because the Home Office doesn't release them, they're not gonna be low.)

While it is right and fair for the treatment of Luigi Mangione to be a cause célèbre and a rallying point against the American justice system, that cannot be supported by making the norms of the American justice system seem less bad than they are.

This kind of brutal treatment of a prisoner without due process is not one unique case. This is standard practice in counter-terrorism, immigration detention, and the entire prison system. Mangione is quite likely getting the worst of it, because, you know... the politics. But bear in mind, they already HAD the torture chair and the solitary cell.

Don't let the carceral system off the hook for its regular human rights violations, just to emphasise specific ones.

So to catch you up to speed

Luigi Mangione is an innocent man who has not been confirmed to have been involved in any crime.

We have police documents confirming he was not DNA tested or fingerprinted, and confirmation no usable DNA or fingerprints were recovered at the crime scene due to incomplete prints and immense DNA contamination of New Yorks streets.

No evidence has linked him to the crime.

No facial recognition has even remotely come close to identifying the cctv suspects face as that of Luigi. His own family and friends do not see a resemblance. Most people agree the features in the cctv do not match the very well documented features of Luigi Mangione.

Luigi Mangione has no history of violence nor with firearms. He is a vegan pacifist with no history of mental illness and an aversion to killing even bugs.

He is still only a SUSPECT and all involvement in any crimes are merely ALLEGED at this time. Alleged by the most corrupt police force in the entire nation; the NYPD who do more organized crime than they've ever stopped.

Luigi Mangione's attorneys confirmed they have been shown absolutely nothing that even places Luigi at the scene of the crime.

People have repeatedly tried to recreate the entire timeline of events and found it is not physically possible to do what was alleged in the time frame police gave. Especially dubious for Luigi Mangione to have done given his recent, crippling back injury.

Luigi Mangione in his own words has said police planted evidence on him and are not being honest about his arrest or what he had on him at the time.

There is no body cam footage of Luigi's arrest.

There is no autopsy report for Brian Thompson.

Luigi has so far been:

Stripped of his hat, jacket and shoes and forced to walk in the cold in December wearing wet socks.

Forced to urinate on himself where police then took and published humiliation photos of him.

He was then stripped of his shirt pants and socks and put in a blue psychiatric gown and strapped to a chair inmates called "the torture chair" and left for prolonged periods of time. To the point the entire inmate population at the prison protested in anger.

He was slammed unto a brick wall, choked, and shoved by various police officers for no reason.

Was marched through nyc at gunpoint by officers with military firearms, forced to wear chains

Was called a murderer by the mayor of NYC on national television.

Was then placed in solitary confinement for weeks. Something extremely damaging psychologically to be exposed to for even just a few days. Something usually reserved for cannibals.

He is now being forced to sleep on the floor despite again, a crippling back injury.

Again, he has not even had trial yet. He is an innocent man by the very definition of the law. He has nothing tying him to any crime. And even the crime itself was a nobody being shot in a city where nobodies are shot everyday, seven days a week. And those shooters don't get this treatment. Cannibals don't get this treatment. Serial killers don't get this treatment. Why are they doing this? Because we entered an oligarchy and they want people who are rich to matter more than people who are not. The NO ONE, no name, insignificant person that Brian THOMPSON always was and WILL ALWAYS BE is more important because of his net worth, to the fascist oligarchy we've entered into, than the innocent man, data scientist and robotics engineer with a promising future that is Luigi Mangione.

The NYPD doesn't want him to be innocent. They are torturing him gleefully and postponing his trial because they know he's innocent. They just want to scare the public into understanding that the ultra rich, even those who's names will never be remembered as anything other than markings on a never visited tombstone, are the only persons who matter now. Not yours. Never yours. You're poor. They'll torture you without a trial too. Your life means nothing to them. Your children dying in school shootings means nothing to them. Pinning a crime on an innocent man they can beat to scare the public out of class consciousness is the only thing that matters to them now. Depose them.

[nkogneatho]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒 ✦ 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

—characters: oliver, shidou, sae.

—cw: fem!reader, fingering, pearl necklace, overstimulation, finger sucking, not proofread.

—a/n: i need lobotomy. you do too if you're reading this shit.

𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

oliver's hands are thick and has arms full of veins. he is not exactly a workout freak but he does fair amount of sets during practice resulting in his amazing physique. his fingers are girthy and he has amazing control over them.

oliver likes to spend his time with his fingers up your pussy, stretching your hole with his thick digits. he loves the feeling of your wetness dripping down his knuckles as he pumps them inside you.

"nasty little pussy. always so greedy, right, babe?" he whispers against your ears. "gimme one more and i promise i'll put my cock in then." you know he's lying. you've already came thrice and he's been repeating the same damn thing but won't stop fingering you. you can feel his erection poking your lower back, your pussy fluttering and craving more. too bad. aiku will only pull his fingers out when he wants to and not when you want to.

"oli...ngh—gunna cum," you mewl as your body tightens.

"let go, baby. 'm right here. cum on my fingers, yeah?" and you do, legs shivering as they close up, trapping his arms in place. when you calm down. aiku gives you peck on your head and you finally think he's gonna put it in. finally. "let's see if you can take four fingers." fucking hell.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

shidou's hands are very veiny even when he is not flexing his muscles. but i doubt this man is ever relaxed because he is on adrenaline 24x7. his skin is glowing with melanin so each nerve is visible. he works out a lot. well his workout is divided in two sections. gym and good old sex.

ryu's favorite thing to do with his hands are massage your tits. massage would be and understatement 'cause this man is full on groping, pinching and abusing them. your poor nipples are always sore when he is done with you. don't get me wrong. he loves to suck on them too. but something about fondling them while thrusting in you gets him off so much. even more lovely when he spits on them and smears them with his thumb.

"got such a sexy set on ya, babe. fhuuuck. gonna make me shoot a load just with this. ya won' mind if i slap them yeah?"

*slap*

you hiss at the sensation. "shit. did my pretty pussy just clenched? fucking hell. ah! my balls are tightening," he moans. you think he's gonna cum inside you but shidou pulls out faster than a lightning, his veiny hands tightening and stroking his cock as he aims for your tits. and just in a second, he is shooting thick translucent ropes all over them. he takes his palm and spread his cum all over your tits. "fuck. jus' like a glazed donut." he takes a lick. "best fucking donut ever."

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

given sae's slender yet washboard ab physique, his hands are long. not full of veins but his knuckles are very visible and it's so hot. his veins show when he is working out, pissed or...horny. sae didn't know he had attractive hands and he was dating a person who has a hand kink. what he did know was you loved to always suckle on his thumb when his palm rests on your jaw while dry humping you. so sae tries to push it further this time.

you're sitting and reading a book on the couch before sae's shadow towers over you. you shoot your head up, looking at him with confused eyes. he scans your face for a minute before speaking.

"open," he commands. you're not sure at first what he means but the way his green eyes are fixated on your mouth, your jaw instinctively follows his command like a servant. before you can grasp the situation, sae's middle and ring finger are already in your mouth. he let's you suckle on them for a few seconds and he's quick to start thrusting them. he might have just discovered that you have a hand kink is pretty convenient for him too 'cause the boner he popped might be the fastest ever.

"i am fucked," is all he says before thrusting his digits deeper, his other hand palming his cock through his gray sweats. his biceps buldge out and his veins pop when he fists his dick so you deliver the most appropriate reaction. a moan and a whimper that vibrate around his fingers sending shivers in his body. he's right. he is fucked. and so are you.

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p4

Masterpost late, tired, still emotional and physically fragile. please no editing <3

“—ir? Sir?”

Danny mumbled something incoherent that was supposed to be a response to that, or befuddlement about being called ‘sir’, or at least something better than ‘wadamehaaftz’. The bite of a tightening blood pressure cuff around his arm helped bring him a little be back to the world. He opened his eyes right into too bright light and winced back in reaction.

“Sir? Do you need us to call an ambulance?” the panicked looking barista asked. She was crouched down next to him where he lay on the floor.

Great, now he could never come back to this coffee shop. That was a damn shame, they had really good bagels.

“No,” Danny managed to make his mouth say. “Seizure. Newish thing for me. I’m fine—will be fine. Sorry.”

“Maybe you should stay laying down for a moment longer?” The barista suggested.

Danny hummed. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“Dude,” someone said off to Danny’s right. He didn’t think it was worth the effort to turn his head and look, “you just had a seizure. You were screaming. Like, I think we’re all okay if you lay there. We can step around you.”

There were murmurers of agreement.

“Okay, yeah, you know what, great,” Danny said and summoned the willpower to lift his hand and give there room a thumbs up. He let it drop listlessly back down onto his chest.

At least the floor was cool against his back. And he did feel a bit better not trying to get up immediately. When he finally pulled himself back up into his chair, the nice barista brought him a glass of ice water with a straw. Danny drank every drop of the first glass and a refill until the paper of the stupid straw started to turn to mush between his lips.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be up for doing much especially that day, Danny got a bagel sandwich to go, left a generous tip, and fled the cafe with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Penny was was at the apartment. She shoved a still warm load of banana bread at Danny as she bitched about her latest failed relationship. Apparently her girlfriend had been hooking up with the bouncer at their favorite bar. Not that Penny would have minded if they had talked through it before hand and Penny was allowed to join every now and again.

Which, fair, the bouncer did have amazing arms.

When Penny’s phone rang, blaring a dated pop song, Danny was able to make his escape with the added load of his two liter water bottle and bag of little oranges. Or not oranges—clementines? Tangelos? Whatever, little oranges.

He set everything down on the end of his bed before flinging himself onto it.

Another seizure. A worse one.

But a clearer vision of the ghost than he’d ever had before.

Groaning, Danny dragged himself to hang over the edge of his bed so he could pull out one of the storage cubes from under it. After a bit of shuffling, he got the one he wanted out from the back: a long ignored stack of art supplies. Danny rummaged around in it for a pencil and eraser before he pulled the sketchbook out from the bottom. He flipped past old game ides and idle doodles to find a blank page and started to work.

There was so much of the ghost that he still couldn’t define, but the more he worked at the sketch of the ghost’s face, the more he started to narrow it down.

Danny stared down at the page.

Overworked eyes stared back.

Feeling frustrated at how close it was, Danny grabbed a blue marker from the page and filled in the eyes carefully. Then, with almost irritated strokes, Danny roughly messed in the strikingly orange hair.

Now his ghost started back.

“Hello there…"

[cmd1095]

All of you sinful degenerate submissives so kinky and horny and sexy

This is a command

Always commit the "Sin" of empathy

Always.

And don't let any fucking Nazi politicians convince you otherwise. My words are more important.

Because I have hypnotic control over you

But also because, you know, I'm not a fucking Nazi.

Seriously the fact this art even needs to exist is absurd I can't even stay in character fucking hell. Dropping the pretenses of this being hypno content

Be empathetic and kind to others. It is one of the most fundamental human characteristics. Anyone who voluntarily casts off that capacity is willingly turning themselves into something less than human, and NOT IN A KINKY WAY.

All of the most intelligent animals in the world develop a sense of empathy and fairness. Except maybe Orcas... but I bet they feel it for each other at least.

If empathy is a sin, it is original sin, the sin that made humans into what they are. Our ability to understand one another, build community, support and elevate each other. That's what made humanity into the dominant species of Earth.

Not our weapons, or our structures, or our persistence hunting. Not even our ability to farm. No one human could ever have risen above the wild untamed nature of the world.

It was because we supported each other, loved and cared and elevated each other not just as individuals but as a society. That is what made us into what we are, and the darkest times in our history all stem from when that principle was set aside, where we let hatred or pride or prejudice or most of all avarice supersede our love and empathy

Right now, we're seeing that happen in real time. Seeing "people" poison our society and erode the core of our humanity, to bring about dark times in which only they prosper and humanity slides into yet another dark age.

Those people have tossed aside their humanity, traded their souls for power and wealth, and they've convinced many others that doing the same will benefit them in the end. Reject this premise

Be empathetic, be kind, be loving. Shine brightly against that encroaching darkness. No matter how cold or cruel the world becomes, be the warmth and light that doesn't go out.

If we can do that, if we can keep that flame burning no matter what. Then eventually, these hard times will pass.

Well, this kinda bloated and ran away from me. I was originally just gonna do a quick little joke about hypnotically commanding you all to be empathetic but I guess I felt talkative this morning. But I'm keeping it, cause the message is important

If you've seen that one screencap, you know what it's about.

[jinnie-ret]

breathe

hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: work exhaustion

word count: 1.2k

summary: you let yourself belittle your own problems because surely they couldn't be as bad as your idol boyfriend's own ones?

requested by: @skzoologist

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤 MAIN MASTERLIST

You always found it interesting how you were held up by a strong armour of bones; how you'd practically be jelly without them, but when your boyfriend was Hwang Hyunjin, all of those existential thoughts trickled away. Sure, those things were true, they were facts, yet he was the one to hold you up when you couldn't do it on your own anymore and you'd be lying if you said that sinking into his arms after a hard day of work didn't also turn you into jelly. To tell a long story short, you lived and breathed Hyunjin and him, you.

Almost instinctively, he could tell something was wrong the minute, no, the second you hobbled in through the freshly painted, front door of your new home. The two of you had only recently moved in, so with the combination of unpacking your joint array of various possessions and also going to work everyday, you were exhausted. Hyunjin had insistently reasoned with you that you didn't have to wake up early in the tiresome mornings to work. He could cover it. That didn't sit right to you. It didn't feel fair. You wanted to start this new chapter of your lives as equals, wanting to contribute and provide too.

"Baby, you're back!" Hyunjin's soft voice cooed as he immediately encased you with his long limbs. Just like that, you were putty in his hands. He brought such comfort to you, such a warmth that he could melt the ice caps.

"Hyune," you simply said his name whilst burying your face into his neck. The small exhale of air as you sagged against him told him everything he needed to know in confirming if he was right or not. Something had to be wrong.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothing's wrong."

Liar, he thought. Before he could press you further, however, you were reluctantly leaving his arms to crouch down and unbuckle the boots you had worn that day, a wince forming on your face as you did.

"You sure? Why you scrunching up your nose like that, baby?" Hyunjin's tone remained delicate with you but you didn't mind it. It didn't feel demeaning, it was comforting considering the people you had been around today. He rubbed careful circles into your shoulders, keeping contact with you as you stood back up and looked at the floor unsurely.

"I'm fine," you sighed, huffing as you pushed some hair out of your face.

"I already know that you've had a hard day," Hyunjin let out a sigh of his own, bringing up a hand to caress your cheek. It grabbed your attention and your eyes to met his.

"Did my manager call or something? Why would they tell you? I'm honestly doing perfectly well," you groaned, the frown on your face disappearing as quickly as it came with Hyunjin smoothing out the furrow of your brows.

"Not because of your manager, but because I know you," he led you into the kitchen, making you sit down whilst he filled up a glass with some water.

"Thanks, Jinnie," you mumbled before taking a few sips. The rush of ice cold water through your body should have alerted you to letting your walls back up like you usually did, but your boyfriend had always told you to be honest with him and that you could be, so there was no stopping you now.

"I've been really tired recently and going into work should feel good for me with having the routine but I think I'm finding it... tricky?"

As you spoke your thoughts and feelings, Hyunjin listened intently from next to you, a hand resting on your arm as to not overwhelm you too much. His fingers caressed the skin that he could reach beyond your sleeve.

"You always say 'tricky', baby, but how do you really find it?" Hyunjin spoke up after a moment.

"Umm, well, I do find it tricky... Like, it's difficult. It's quite possibly wearing me down a bit," you admitted, rubbing your forehead with your thumb and index finger, trying to soothe the impending headache you've been getting every evening this week so far.

"Oh, baby... you'll be okay," Hyunjin pressed against you, hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away some stray tears you didn't even notice had made their appearance, "Let's go cuddle, yeah? That always seems to help."

He had lit a candle in the bedroom, the orange glow setting a calming hue across the bedroom walls. You had never been happier than the decision you had made in unpacking the bedroom as a priority, being able to snuggle beneath the shining, silky sheets. Face to face with you, your boyfriend stroked your hair with one hand, the other resting on your lower back.

"Talk to me, baby," Hyunjin began.

"I already have," you groaned, shutting your eyes.

"There's something else, I can tell," Hyunjin murmured.

"Isn't."

"There is."

"Ughhhhhh."

"Flopping about like a fish won't get you out of this, baby" Hyunjin giggled, arms wrapping around you tighter to cease your random movements.

"Fine. It's just, I can't just stop going to work, Jinnie," you chewed your lip as you paused, "I don't even do as much as you do as an idol and I end up tired and complaining. It's not fair to you."

"Is this why you hold back so much with these things? Because you keep making comparisons?" Hyunjin frowned, "Baby, I'm not going to make it a competition and tell you that I'm more tired or tell you that you don't work hard. I can tell that you do, I see that every day."

"You don't see me at work though-"

"That's not my point," Hyunjin whined, smacking you on the arm playfully.

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'," he giggled at your blank face.

"I just want you to rest and relax. We'll take a nap, have a nice dinner and then enjoy the weekend, how's that sound?" Hyunjin kissed you on the forehead for a couple of seconds, relishing the feeling of holding you so dearly.

"It's the weekend?" your eyes widened ever so slightly despite the sleepy haze that had taken over.

"You're so silly," Hyunjin giggled lightly, shuffling closer to you and lifting you so that you could rest your head on his chest. Once again, that light, airiness returned to you as well you could think about was him. Not about work or any other worries that entered your mind. They had floated away just as easily as you did into a peaceful sleep, not needing that strong armour to hold you up in this moment. You were safe, loved and cared for whenever you were around Hyunjin and that's all you needed.

tagged: @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @katzline @kiwihrt @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve

[htaesan]

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING　　────　ᅠ ( han taesan )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your ex, seemingly sweet anton, spreads malicious rumours about you that could potentially ruin your entire academic weapon career, so you have to take desperate measures𑁋and that includes a fake-dating contract and the bane of your existence, han taesan.

　　　ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 13k ⠀ genre college au fluff angst if you squint one sided rivals to lovers academic weapon x campus crush ⠀ contains mentions of food vulgar words skinship pet names several ocs ⠀ note i’m sorry if this fic is.. all over the place a bit coz,, yea!! but this fic is highly.. self-indulgent.. heheh! and i originally wanted to make this more angsty but i’m already sad and single so, No! anyways, enjoy reading ^_^ ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

“ALRIGHT. Let’s do it.”

As you gaze into Taesan’s determined eyes, the entire series of events flashes through your mind. 

It was back in your first year of university—early winter, the day of the first snowfall. You were walking towards the three-floor library, the cold wind stinging your eyes. You rushed inside, grateful for the gush of artificial warm air that greeted you as soon as the doors closed behind you. The library was quite packed for some reason, and you could barely spot any empty seats.

You walked towards the edge of the library, a corner with the largest window of the level. There it was—one of the only empty seats in the entire library—but that seat was next to a boy, heavily occupied with his studies. Your pace slowed down as you hesitated. The boy had a focused blank look on his face, his headphones on, and several papers and notebooks were scattered on the table around him.

You felt like you wanted to just leave and go back to your room, but remembering how cold it was outside, you decided against it. 

After taking a deep breath, you approached him. With a shaky smile, you tapped the boy’s shoulder, muttering a silent prayer. 

“Excuse me,” you said as he lowered his headphones to his neck. “May I sit here? I-I mean, if it’s cool with you..”

He simply nodded. “Sure.”

You had sat down next to the mysterious boy for the entire day, not knowing that, in the present, he would be the bane of your existence. 

In this moment, you’re brought back to the present, startled at how you’re standing in front of him. The mysterious boy that you had sat next to turned out to be Han “Taesan” Dongmin—KOZ School of Law’s campus crush. There’s almost nothing “bad” that you’re heard of him, yet, when you find yourself walking towards him with a fiery determination in your eyes—you immediately know that you’re about to get hit with something you’d never expect. 

“A-are you sure?” you say, surprised to even find yourself stuttering. You’ve held yourself to such a high reputation—being your school’s academic weapon—you’ve worked hard to keep yourself true to that name. 

Well, to be fair, you didn’t expect Taesan to even say yes to your ridiculous plan—given that all that’s he’s ever done for you is say everything that will get on your nerves.

Taesan gives you a smirk. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “Being the boyfriend of KOZ Academy’s academic weapon isn’t something you get to do everyday.”

The way he presses the emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’ makes you flinch. It reminds you of your stupid plan; who in their right mind would offer Han Taesan—your rival—a fake dating deal just to make rumours about themselves go away?

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I think we need to enforce some guidelines and boundaries regarding this… set-up.”

Taesan shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight to let himself stand more comfortably. The smirk still on his face, he replies, “alright. Hit me with all of ‘em.”

You whip your phone out, quickly showing him a document that you spent an entire night typing out—complete with every single thing he needed to do for you. 

“Here,” you say, frustrated at how Taesan’s smug smirk just never falters. 

Taesan runs a hand through his hair before leaning down to read through the document displayed on your phone. He finishes reading it quickly, taking a step closer to you after. He doesn’t say anything for a while, only to startle you by abruptly saying, “I agree.”

“What–?” you blurt out, surprised once again. You thought that Taesan would be more picky than– 

“Your terms are easy for me to do. However,” you narrow your eyes at the boy who’s towering in front of you. Of course he’s picky—he’s Taesan. “I’d like you to agree to my conditions as well. If I have to do some things for you, you’d have to do some things for me too.”

You sigh before nodding. How hard could it be? Besides, this whole ‘relationship’ you’re having with Taesan is merely a fake dating set-up. 

“Okay.”

Taesan whips out a full-blown smug smirk, making you roll your eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, holding out two fingers. 

“First, you have to also put in the effort to make things real. Like, wearing my jersey when I have basketball games, and wearing my initials ‘round your neck,” he pushes his middle finger down, the smug grin still plastered on his face, “and secondly, you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime.”

The moment the word ‘kiss’ escapes his mouth, you choke on thin air. 

Why is my plan backfiring on me? 

“What? No–”

Taesan shrugs. “Basically, physical contact is allowed to be done anytime.”

You feel your face flush, immediately recalling the third condition that you showed Taesan. No physical affection unless needed. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that—it’s clashing with my third term.”

“But your first term: ‘the other party must always do his utmost best to make the relationship seem real’ exists, am I right?” Taesan objects relaxedly. “Then, my second term doesn’t clash with that. And I also do believe that that first term of yours comes before the rest. Am I right?”

You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. How could you forget? Taesan will always work to have the last word—be that in court or in conversations. 

Plus, he’s not entirely wrong. 

Though, you’ve never been someone who lets Taesan win willingly. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, your heart twisting in detest at the way Taesan’s face lights up with a smirk again. 

“Then, we have a deal?” Taesan asks. 

You stare into his dark brown eyes once again, registering what you’re about to commit yourself to. All just to get rid of your ex and the rumour he’s pulled you into. 

You hold out your hand, Taesan gladly reciprocating. 

“Deal.”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

IT didn’t hit you that you’re officially Han Taesan’s girlfriend that night. However, the next morning, right after the two of you signed the document at the coffee shop you always study at—it hit you like a million bricks from the sky. 

You’re in a “relationship” with the person you loathed the most for the past year. The exact same man who everyone adores, who’s called the it-boy, the campus crush—is now your most “beloved”. Freshman you would rather jump off a cliff than to offer her nemesis a fake-dating pact. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess. 

“Here,” Taesan hands you a velvet box—one that obviously contains jewellery of some sort. 

Of course. Han Taesan’s always prepared. 

You let out a deep sigh, knowing what’s inside. Despite that, you ask, “what’s this?”

Taesan gives you a grin, one that you always see him don during the countable times that he beats you in quizzes. “Open it—I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You run your fingers around the edges of the velvety box, sceptical at Taesan’s sudden soft tone. “Don’t talk to me like that,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. 

Taesan, instead of immediately throwing a scoff in your face, simply leans back into his seat with a chuckle. 

Not waiting for whatever reply he’s preparing to throw to you, you open the box. Your eyes lay upon a beautiful, dainty necklace with a “H.D” pendant, nested elegantly in the box. You bite back a gasp, though you’re unable to hide your surprise. The silver necklace is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery you’ve yet to lay your eyes upon—it’s dainty and simple, yet it screams elegance in the best way possible. 

You look up at Taesan, obviously bug-eyed. “What- I’m- thank you?”

Taesan throws his head back, laughing. He perches an eyebrow up, clearly amused. “What am I supposed to answer? ‘You’re welcome’?”

Oh. It’s part of his terms. 

You glare at him. 

Not missing a beat, Taesan says with a big grin on his face, “what is your lazy ass waiting for? Put it on—or do you need me to help with that?”

You massage your temples, tempted to stick your tongue out at him, hissing the obvious at him—that you do not want to wear his initials around your neck. 

“I don’t need your help,” you say between gritted teeth, harshly yanking the necklace from the box. You swiftly clasp the necklace around your neck, secretly surprised that you’re able to do so. 

Maintaining a glare, you retort, “I’m only wearing this stupid necklace because it’s part of your terms.”

You throw your gaze elsewhere, Taesan laughing his stomach out in the background. Why is he finding your irritated state so funny? 

The pendant feels cold against your skin, sending tingles. You gulp, feeling odd. You hadn’t announced your ‘relationship’ to your friends yet—but seeing you with Taesan’s initials could certainly start rumours. 

A part of you is jumping with triumph—your plan is starting to set its course, while another part of you is afraid of it all. What if you’re finally not good at something, no matter how much you try—pretending you’re in love with your rival, the bane of your existence?

“We’ll start slow,” you hear Taesan say, pulling you back into reality. You quickly morph into your stoic expression—one that you find yourself often putting up around people. “Like everyone else does. Soft launch.”

“Ah,” you manage, nodding. “Sounds good.”

“Even though that necklace certainly is a big jump for a soft launch,” Taesan voices, chuckling. His words cause you to narrow your eyes at him, hyper aware of the cold metal against your skin—a mark that Taesan managed to place on you. 

It’s all fake, you chant to yourself. Once Anton gets the message, it’ll all be over. 

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THE past few weeks had been a blur. Nothing was out of the ordinary—you attended classes, performed mootings and sent in assignments like usual. Though, only one thing that was out of the routine.

Taesan no longer felt like a thorn to your side. 

You still hate him—you despise the way he carries himself, so proud and confident. You wish you could punch his face for the way he’s so smooth with his words, the way that his charm works on everyone so well. You absolutely hate the way a handsome idiot like him had the potential to beat you in every single subject if you slacked for even a minute. 

Yet, to the public, he’s your boyfriend. 

A cliche: rivals to lovers, they say. 

Despite being the one proposing the whole fake dating plan, you had been the one following Taesan’s itinerary so far. The two of you had finally exchanged phone numbers, and at night, Taesan would always send a list of ideas on how to make the soft launch more obvious day by day. 

The first week, you found yourself wearing tops that highlighted the H.D pendant, styling your hair to make it more noticeable—you even went as far as attending Taesan’s birthday celebration to top the chances of people noticing the pendant. And Taesan didn’t inform you of this one, but you often found him telling his friends, yours, or random coursemates to pass you drinks and snacks. You had no idea how Taesan had gotten the list of all your favourite things to munch on, but you secretly did enjoy the free flow of snacks. Anton had passed you a snack from Taesan too—five packs of your favourite Choco Pie. You couldn’t forget the bewildered face Anton had as he passed them to you, eyes filled with question and a hint of jealousy.  

“What’s up with Han?” he asked.

You shoved the Choco Pies into your shoulder bag, biting back a smile. Who wouldn’t be jolly after getting five of their favourite tidbits? 

“How would I know?” you replied bitterly. You quickly turn away from Anton, the uncomfortable feeling of being around him overpowering the bubbly feeling you had from getting snacks. 

“Well, those Choco Pies are from him,” Anton repeated for the second time. “And I don’t recall him being anything but hostile to you.”

You suppress a scoff. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart? His brain is probably tired of coming up with things to try and outsmart me,” you muttered. As if. 

“Well, if anything—if that asshole tries to do anything to you, I’ll… be here for you, Y/N,” Anton said, taking a step closer. Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched. You quickly finished packing your bag up, swinging it over your shoulders. 

You said that last time, too. 

“Don’t talk to me, Anton,” you responded as monotony as possible before running out of the lecture hall, not giving Anton even a glance. 

The following weeks, Taesan was hanging out with you even more than the previous week. He wasn’t being too obvious, but to you, him walking slightly behind you and not throwing a loud sarcastic remark was already an apparent sign that would show everyone that your dynamics had changed. 

Anton had found yet another chance to corner you after a Public International Law lecture. You stayed back in the hall to reread your theoretical essay before sending it in. Behind you, Taesan was packing up his things, busy scrolling through something in his phone. 

“Hi, Y/N,” you froze when Anton’s voice reached your ear drums. 

You look up at him with a glare. “What do you want?”

Anton flashed his usual pitiful, soft smile. “Nothing. Just a meal with you—this week has been quite stressful for you, right? I heard that last Monday’s mooting was rough.”

“You’re not even a law student, Anton,” you seethed. The KOZ School of Business student ID card hanging on Anton’s neck looked extremely out of place amongst the ocean of law students. “Please kindly get lost, go back to the Business building.”

“My course mates are boring. Besides, you’re more fun to be around,” Anton replied. “I know we… haven’t been on good terms, but give me a chance to fix it all?”

You gritted your teeth, your hands beginning to shake. 

The audacity of this boy… where is my stupid fake boyfriend when I need him–?

“I think she clearly said for you to get lost, bud.”

You fought back a grin. Finally. 

“Han?” Anton tilted his head. “Wait– who are you to tell me that?”

Taesan stood next to you, his backpack dangling from one shoulder. His height towered significantly above you, making you standing right below his shoulders—enough to match Anton. “Who do you think I am?”

Anton’s eyes darted towards the pendant on your décolletage, his eyes bulging. “What the…” you heard him mutter under his breath. 

Taesan seemed to notice this too, and he swiftly pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “So, get it now? Get lost, Lee, and give your ex some space. An ex is an ex for a reason.”

Anton then left with a fuming expression, leaving you in fits of relieved laughter after. You thanked Taesan, who simply responded with a polite smile. 

“By the end of this, don’t forget the wish, yeah?” he said, before walking out of the lecture hall. 

You stood there, blinking profusely. You had completely forgotten the last clause of your agreement with Taesan—once you were satisfied with his service, you had to grant him one wish. Anything that he wanted. 

You face palmed yourself. Why didn’t you think twice before typing that down? You mentally made a note to yourself to prepare your wallet for the outrageous request that the thorn in your side would make later on. 

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“ARE you and Taesan dating?” 

Sophia’s question makes you almost spit your lunch through your nose. 

“What?”

“Girl, don’t you dare pretend not,” Yunjin interrupts, pointing her spoon at you. “You literally have his initials as a necklace that you never take off! H.D., which means Han Dongmin, right? Isn’t that his real name?”

“It’s not like–”

“No, no. It’s so obvious! Taesan’s around you more now, and he even gave you a birthday present!”

Sophia smiles, “he looks at you so differently now!” 

Yunjin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, that too, I guess,” she then looks at you, directly in the eyes, “I guess Han Taesan and Y/N L/N have finally begun their lovers era, huh?”

You feel your cheeks warming up, and guilt fills your chest. You draw a sharp inhale before telling the girls the full story. And subconsciously, your fingers find the pendant, playing with it. 

“It’s fake,” you sigh, “I mean, not the necklace—he’s just pretending. I’m pretending, too. None of this is… real.”

Sophia gasps and Yunjin frowns. 

“Are you… sure? What for?” Sophia asks.

Yunjin nods in agreement. “I’ve always thought that dude had feelings for you, but I… I didn’t realise it’s actually wrong and my deductions were totally off.”

You scoff, though Yunjin’s words left you wondering. “Taesan doesn’t like me—have you girls seen how he treats me?”

“He treats you well,” Yunjin states plainly, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth. 

“No,” you immediately shake your head, “he hates seeing me happy! He always finds a way to stick his annoying nose into my life, mocking me. He’s like always, always there to only laugh at my face.” 

“Then why did he agree?” Sophia asks. 

“To what?”

“To fake date you,” she continues, taking a sip of her yakult. “Well, I’m sure you have a plan—a contract and all—don’t you?”

Your eyes widen. How do these two girls know you so well? 

“Yeah. I do. I’m doing all this because of Anton,” the look on your friends’ faces makes you feel a little relieved, “I need him to shut up about me.”

You recall the ridiculous rumour you’ve heard about you from Yunjin, that’s been going around like crazy—the rumour that you used to date Anton because he’s rich and that you used him as a bribe to get outstanding grades. Those close to you knew that is and would never become true—yet people are always jealous of others who have certain things better than them. 

It may seem like a small matter to some, but to you, it’s a matter of reputation. Your whole image and potentially, your graduation is at risk. What if the rumour reaches some professor and they report you? You couldn’t risk the huge amount of money and time you spent, only to be scrapped off the dean’s list due to some rumour. 

Yunjin herself had recorded proof of Anton trying to turn her against you, using that rumour. If she hadn’t shown you the recording, you wouldn’t have believed that sweet, kind Anton was the one who spread those malicious whispers about you.

Now, you’ve got to end it all. One way or another.

You continue finishing your lunch, Taesan somehow in mind. By the end of your lunch, you’re convinced that this is truly all an act—it’s nothing real, and in the end, you’re both just people who hate each other and use each other for selfish, personal reasons.

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“DO I really have to wear your ugly varsity jacket?” Dongmin hears you grunt through the call. He stifles a laugh, tossing a ball up and down. 

“Obviously, you dimwit,” he replies, “you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Dongmin lets himself smile. The word rolls off his tongue like a simple melody—it feels natural for him to say. He finds it odd, yet entertaining—your reaction is worth it all. Besides, it’s quite refreshing to take a break from hating you, sometimes. 

“Besides, your ex is going to be there,” Dongmin reminds, his voice more throaty than expected. “He’s on the team as well, remember?”

“Yeah,” he catches your quiet answer.  

“Anyway, how do you even have time for all this?” you question from the other end of the line. 

“Hmm,” Dongmin hums, “I do have time.” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you hiss. “You’re in law school, Han Taesan.”

“What? Like it’s hard?”

Dongmin lets out a hearty laugh as he hears you gasp—one of the loudest and most genuine expressions he’s gotten out of you yet. 

“I’m so done with you,” you huff. Dongmin hears you shuffle through your closet, most likely finding something to wear. 

“You say that everytime,” Dongmin whispers to himself softly. 

“Anyway,” you announce loudly, “you better have some food for me once I arrive—I’m wearing your stupid varsity jacket.”

“Alright, sweetheart, anything for you,” Dongmin jests in a sing -song voice.

He hears you yelp in disgust, chuckling. “Yuck! Fuck off, Taesan!”

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IT’S a friendly match, nothing serious, Taesan had said; yet you’re here amongst other significant others, to watch him and his team play against another school’s team. 

At the bleachers, you feel called out, and insanely out of place. Everyone looks so in love—girlfriends wearing jerseys with their boyfriends’ numbers and names on the back, painted their faces accordingly, and even cheering for them with their hearts; mothers and siblings gathering together to support their sons and brothers.

Everyone looks so genuinely in love, and you’re the only one who’s there just because you have to. You arrived only two minutes before the match started, too, because you obviously don’t love Taesan enough to be rescheduling your work shift to see him play.

You fidget with the edges of the varsity jacket you’re wearing, oddly feeling how it’s perfectly oversized on you. 

Earlier, Taesan had spotted you sitting awkwardly on the bleachers. He ran over to you, quickly handing you a quesadilla and a cup of bubble tea, before jogging back to the basketball court to warm up. He didn’t say anything, nor did you—but the gesture made you feel weirdly fuzzy. 

Taesan did actually get you some food, even though you grumpily yelled at him to do so. You thought he wouldn’t, just so that he could get on your nerves, just like he always does. 

You watch him and the team warm up, pumping up positive energy with each other. You take a bite of your quesadilla, trying to ease your heart—yet you just can’t forget the real reason why you’re here. 

Jersey number 35.

The whistle blows, indicating the start of the game, and you catch Anton’s glance at you. He gives you a wide smile, winking twice—a sign that he made up, thanking you for coming, just like the old days. You grimace, turning away.

The mission is to make it seem like I’m in love with Taesan. 

You intently watch Taesan play in the arena, his moves sharp and powerful. He slips through the opposition’s defense flawlessly, scoring goals smoothly. Every time he throws the ball, it gets into the hoop—people erupt in cheers and he’s surrounded by his teammates. 

And every time, Taesan looks up at you, flashing his signature smirk. His grin sparkles, lighting up the room—it makes you feel like you’re the only one in the huge arena. 

It makes you feel odd. 

Like there’s so much more under that grin he flashes to you every time he scores. 

You touch the pendant on your décolletage, the cold metal stinging against your skin. Your fingers trace the letters—the initials of Taesan’s birth name—reminding you this is all a set-up. You’re supposed to pretend, and Taesan is pretending too. 

He must be.

Taking a deep breath, you tug the varsity jacket closer to your body, shoving your hands into its pockets. The weight of Taesan’s name and number lay heavy on your back, yet you don a bright smile—trying your best to show your support for him. 

Right now, you’re Han Taesan’s girlfriend. Player number 11’s girlfriend.

The match ends with Anton’s final goal, and KOZ Academy’s team wins 115-113. The entire gym erupts in waves of cheer and heartfelt hugs, every attending person feeling proud of their team, losing or not. You jog down the stairs, heading towards Taesan, whose height stands out in the crowd. 

When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice Anton’s gaze on you. You glance at him, the weight of past memories dragging you down. At the end of these exact same stairs, you used to run straight to Anton, engulfing him in a hug after a match. You used to kiss his cheek, congratulating him for a successful game. You used to feel like your entire world revolved around him, and that you would be happy with him. 

But that was in the past. Now, you can look at Anton with nothing in your heart. You feel nothing but plain resentment—damning him for the things he did to you. You had thought he was the love of your life, that you’d grow old with him—but Anton had other plans, and another girl that he prioritised more than you. 

You turn your head away, directing your gaze towards Taesan. He’s talking to his friends, his hair wet from the sweat. He’s grinning proudly, talking about something that’s interesting to boys. 

You sigh. Hopefully this whole set-up works—Anton leaves you alone, the rumours die down, and you can go back to bashing Taesan’s head. 

And hopefully, you can move on, too. Once and for all.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Anton take a step towards you. Though, what you don’t see is that Taesan is faster. He waves at you, calling your name with a big grin, before running to give you a hug. 

Your eyes widen upon the impact, and it’s like everything is in slow motion. 

Taesan pulls away, ruffling your hair. His eyes crinkle with his grin. “Are you proud of me, darling?”

Darling. 

You gulp. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

You give him a laugh, trying your best to not make it sound staged. Your nose crinkles at the smell of sweaty boys. Taesan notices, of course, and he chuckles. 

“Sorry, I must smell bad. I’ll be sure to spray on some more deodorant next time.”

You gaze into Taesan’s eyes, his arms still around your waist. There’s some kind of softness behind his teasing look—something that you’ve never seen before. 

A small smile forms on your lips, one that you’re unable to hold back. “Good job, Taesan.”

“Yeah?” Taesan laughs, his eyes forming crescent moons. “Thanks, Y/N.”

He then leans in to whisper, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that from you.”

You push him away, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off, Taesan. I’ll be waiting at the bus stop.”

Taesan laughs loudly as you stomp away. “By the way,” he yells, “you look good wearing my number, sweetheart!”

You lower your head, biting your lips to fight two things—the urge to flash the middle finger to the jolly Taesan behind you, and the weird fluttering feeling that erupts in your stomach every time he calls you ‘sweetheart’.

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“Y/N,” you turn around, finding a panting Anton in front of you. 

You’re standing in line outside one of the most famous pasta restaurants in the heart of the KOZ School of Medicine square, waiting to buy this one pasta dish you’ve been craving for the entire month. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here—not even Taesan or the girls—so you’re weirded out by the fact that your ex found you here.

“...Anton,” you curtly acknowledge. 

“Is it true?” he asks. 

You force your eyes close for a second, wishing that it wasn’t wrong to beat someone up. “What?”

“That you’re dating Han Taesan. I saw him kissing your cheek last time.”

Your heart almost stops beating for a second. Almost two months have passed, and almost everyone in the entire campus of KOZ Academy knows that you and Taesan are finally getting tired of fighting each other—falling in love instead. 

Your plan has passed the soft launch phase, and now, you’re having your nemesis call you sweet, adoring nicknames out in public. 

“Yes,” you answer, managing a deadpan expression. “What about it?”

“Do you love him?” 

You narrow your eyes at Anton, feeling like if he keeps on shooting questions like this, he’d go home with a black eye. “Why does it matter if I love him or not?”

“Because,” Anton starts, his voice beginning to waver with every following word, “you used to love me.”

His words hang in the air, thick with a known, cursed history. You could hear your heart stutter for a split second, but you shake your head, quickly suppressing the feeling. You take in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of old anger rise in your chest. You force yourself to look at Anton, eyes hardening.

“That was two years ago, Anton,” you say, your voice detached. “And you made sure to end it, remember?”

Anton’s face flickers with something—guilt, regret, maybe even a hint of fear—but you’re not interested in seeing it. You’re sick of it—too familiar with the way he can spin his words to make himself seem like the victim.

“You don’t get to do this,” you continued, lips tightening into a thin line. “You don’t get to just show up and act like we can pick up where we left off, after what you did with Mina."

Anton’s face darkens the moment your old best friend’s name leaves your mouth, but you hold his gaze without flinching. Anton opens his mouth, probably to throw another lame and poorly explained excuse that you’ve heard before, but you’re faster than he is. 

“Save it,” you snap. “You don’t have any right to ask me if I love Taesan after what you did. You lost that right the moment you lied to me and slept with her.”

Anton looks taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring that up, but obviously, you don’t care. You’ve held your feelings in for so long—leaving them behind quietly to try and move on without a commotion. You’ve spent enough time letting him walk all over you in the past—you’re not about to let him do it again.

For a moment, Anton looks like he’s about to say something more, but you don’t give him a chance. You turn away, taking a small step back as you glance briefly at the line in front of you. “I’m done with this conversation, Anton. You should be, too.”

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THE next morning, after your first class of the day, you sigh as you find yourself waiting outside of a rather packed coffee shop—allegedly Taesan’s favourite one—bundled up in Taesan’s scarf. Autumn is starting to give way to winter, and as it’s doing so, the winds and temperatures are getting crazier. You bury your face further into the softness of Taesan’s scarf, letting the mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, and sugar vanilla attack your senses. It’s disturbing, once the fact that the scarf that’s warming you up belongs to Taesan registers in your head; however, you had no choice. Freezing your nose off was the only other option. 

“Hey,” you hear Taesan’s voice, turning instantly towards him. 

“Apple pie latte?” he says, handing you a warm cup of said coffee. Grabbing it from him, you perk your eyebrows up. 

“How did you know?” you say, pushing the scarf down. Taesan shrugs, sipping his own drink. You glance at the sticker on his cup: cinnamon maple latte.

“Instincts.”

You snicker at his reply, rolling your eyes. “Cut me some slack.”

The two of you then walk back towards the law school complex, where both of your classes will be held next. The winds begin to blow, and you find yourself hiding half your face behind Taesan’s scarf. You squint your eyes, blinking harshly as the stray strands of hair sting them. 

“I love autumn, but not this kind,” you mumble. 

Taesan glances at you, and in one swift motion, he grabs your free hand and shoves it into the pocket of his coat. He interlaces his hand with yours, letting his body warmth transfer to you. 

Your eyes widen, your brain slow at processing the situation. You whip your head towards the tall man walking with you, his expression relaxed as ever. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull away. 

Taesan gives you a look that yells ‘really, Y/N?’. “Keeping you warm?”

“I don’t need your help,” you retort, yanking your hand away. 

Taesan grabs it back, shoving it into his pocket. This time, his grip on your hand is firmer than before. “I don’t need my girlfriend to freeze to death—it’s going to ruin my reputation.”

Realisation hits you, again, like a ton of bricks right at the face. 

Oh. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, letting him do his thing. You look away, deciding to admire the surrounding golden trees. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of how this whole ‘thing’ with Taesan is temporary—and having a personal heat packet isn’t too bad. 

Once the two of you reach the lecture hall together, people begin to clearly spectate. You pull your hand away from him, rushing to your usual seat. Taesan, his expression calm as he always is, walks over to his usual seat as well—directly behind you. 

Then, two minutes before the lecture starts, the person you truly hated comes into view, and decides to sit at the empty seat next to you. 

“Hi, Y/N,” your ex, Anton, greets you with the biggest smile on his face. You mentally sob—already dreading the three hours to come.

You turn away, scooting as far as you could. The memories rush like a flood you can’t stop—reminding you of the heart-tearing pain the boy sitting next to you caused. 

“Y/N? You alright? You look pale,” Anton says, probing further.

“It’s the weather,” you reply dully, your lips downturned. You unravel Taesan’s scarf from your neck, placing it on your lap. Your eyes fixed onto the lecture, you ignore Anton’s attempts to get you conversing with him. 

“Y/N, are you free after class?” Anton whispers, twenty minutes into the lecture. 

“No.” You give him a side glance.

“And you don’t even take IT,” you fake a smile, “so I don’t think you should even be here. With due respect, get lost, yeah?”

“I’m honoured,” Anton whispers back. The soft smile on his face makes you gag. “You still remember things about me.”

“Oh, please,” you grimace, anger beginning to bubble up inside of you. “I’d rather make out with Taesan than remember even the tiniest bit of–”

You suck in your breath sharply, your cheeks flushing at an alarming rate. You had blurted your words out too fast to even register the fact that you’re actually wearing the said person’s initials in a necklace ‘round your neck. 

“You’d rather what now, sweetheart?” 

Hearing Taesan’s voice, you can almost see his smug smirk decorating that annoyingly attractive face of his. 

Your eyes widen. 

I did not just admit that.

You turn to Taesan for a moment, flashing him a sheepish smile. You quickly spin back to face the lecture, forcing yourself to focus. 

After the lecture concluded, you find yourself stuck in a sticky situation—Anton just can’t let you go out. 

“Do you want to go and grab lunch together? It’s pretty late for lunch, and I know your stomach gets upset easily if you don’t eat,” you wince upon hearing his soft tone. 

You frown, hating the fact that Anton knows almost a lot of things about you. “No, Anton, I’m sure I said–”

“She said no, Lee, I’m sure even a stupid motherfucker can understand.”

Seeing Anton’s eyes almost pop out at the sight of Taesan next to you, you’re sure that you look the same. You turn sharply towards Taesan, who has his hand perfectly placed on your back. The look on his face is fierce and scary, like he’s about to completely destroy Anton exactly where he’s standing.  

“Han,” Anton addresses him curtly. “I didn’t know that you’re on… good terms with Y/N.”

You fidget with the charm on your décolletage, collecting every bit of energy you have to maintain a stoic expression. 

Taesan flashes a sly smirk, pride radiating from his eyes as the corners of Anton’s lips twitch. “Why? Is it important to you who I’m close to?”

“No, but given your history with Y/N—I don’t want her to get hurt,” Anton blathers, “so I’m gladly asking you to–”

“What? Fuck off?” Taesan scoffs. Your eyes bulge, somehow not expecting Taesan’s choice of words to be so vulgar. “I think that’s what you’re supposed to do, Lee.”

“Y/N,” Anton says, desperation vivid in his voice. He grabs your wrist, and you instinctively step back. “C’mon, let’s go. I know you don’t like this stupid asshole here–”

Before you could even act, Taesan steps in front of you, shoving Anton to the floor. The students who are still lingering around stop to look. You couldn’t hold in your gasp—Taesan looks extremely angry, you swear you could see fire in his eyes. 

A thought clicks into your head. 

Taesan is the it-boy, of course he’s good at acting.

You take a step back, weirded by the heavy feeling of disappointment that begins to cloud your heart as soon as you remember the arrangement. 

It’s just acting, Y/N. Get it together. 

“Don’t touch her, bastard,” you hear Taesan hiss before he turns to you. Anger still lingering around, you watch with silence as Taesan relaxes the tension in his jaw. In a mirroring silence, he gestures for you to follow him out. You nod.

As you turn on your heel, Anton calls out, visibly irritated. 

“Y/N,” he says, “what’s going on?”

You give him a mocking smile. You swing Taesan’s scarf around your neck. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Anton.”

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AS you and Taesan walk out of the lecture hall, you can’t ignore the heavy weight settling in your chest. It keeps replaying in your mind: the way Taesan stepped in, fiercely protective—it’s all an act, right? You sneak a glance at Taesan, but his face is unreadable, his jaw still slightly clenched from the encounter.

“Taesan… you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his scarf.

Taesan exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising slightly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he then adds under his breath, “fucking bastard.”

You blink, unintentionally slowing your steps. That’s… different from what you expected.

“Taesan,” you try again, but he shoves his hands into his pockets, picking up the pace.

You know you should just let it go, but the air between the two of you feels heavier than it was before. Was it just an act? Maybe it was—and that Taesan’s acting skills are as good as the rom-com actors—but something about the way he had looked at Anton; like he was seconds away from doing more than just shoving him to the ground. 

It feels too… real.

A sudden gust of wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver. Instantly, Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into a nearby convenience store.

“Sit,” he orders, disappearing for a moment. You watch him move through the aisles, confusion twisting in your chest. You take a seat exactly where he ordered you to, your head fuzzy from the mixture of confusing, unnamed emotions.

When he returns, he kneels slightly, pressing a warm drink and a heat pack into your hands, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“You’re hopeless,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “First my scarf, now this.”

You gasp dramatically, rolling your eyes as your lips twitch, your heart knocking against your ribs. “You’re the one who keeps giving me things.”

Taesan just hums in response, his gaze locking onto yours. His usual unreadable expression softens, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Your grip tightens on the cup, trying to shake off the way your body reacts to his warmth. This whole thing with Taesan was supposed to be temporary. So why did it feel like something had changed?

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DONGMIN takes several deep breaths, his eyes shut. The jazz music plays in the background, and the buzz of the cafe calms him down. 

No wonder Y/N likes this place. 

Dongmin opens his eyes, finding himself staring at you ordering drinks and some food for the two of you. You had dragged him here as soon as you finished your drink at the convenience store, repeating that you needed to treat him to some food. Your voice rings in his head, telling him that he needed to follow you to the coffee shop, to cool off his steam. 

“Do you like apple pie?” you ask, setting a plate of two slices of said dessert, accompanied by two scoops of vanilla ice cream.

“Why do you even ask if you’ve already gotten it? Seems like my preference doesn’t matter,” Dongmin replies, putting on the usual smirk. 

Your eyes widen and he chuckles. 

“Well,” you huff, “I like apple pie—and it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t.”

“Alright,” Dongmin laughs, and it hits. His laughter dies down as the realisation sinks in—watching you devour your slice of apple pie like it’s the only food you’ll eat until the end of time. 

Dongmin, as he puts a bite of his food into his mouth, realises how messed up he is. He realises how often a hearty laugh escapes him when he’s with you—how a flustered, frustrated mess you make him. 

“Why are you being nice to me?” Dongmin asks. He pokes his fork absentmindedly into the crust of the apple pie, second guessing his question the moment it leaves him. 

You and he had always, always been rivals—a pair that’s never meant to get along. He’d always find you muttering curses and throwing glares in his direction; and he’d always find himself trying his best to reciprocate your disdain for him. 

Dongmin does hate you, too. 

He hates how you’re so confident, so diligent, so talented. He despises how hard you work, how determined you are, how you seem to always effortlessly bring him down and defeat him in academics. He feels the most intense dislike for you—whenever you walk in the room, he feels like the world is about to explode, along with his sanity. 

Dongmin hates, with a burning passion, how he can’t stop himself from falling in love with you. He absolutely loathes the way you smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, and the way you look at him—with such fiery determination that’s enough to knock him off his feet. He completely hates the way that he has to keep his tongue sharp, and his attitude insufferable, for you to give him a sliver of your attention. He perfectly hates the way it’s impossible for him to let you know that he doesn’t hate you, at all. 

Dongmin watches you open your mouth to reply, yet you don’t for a few moments. You return his gaze, uncertainty playing around in her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “We’re just eating apple pie, Taesan,” you laugh sheepishly. 

For the first time, Dongmin doesn’t have an immediate answer. He swallows the bite of apple pie in his mouth, unsure of what he should say next. His smirk fades and hesitation engulfs him.

You notice this, of course, and your frown deepens. Though, before you could do anything, Jaehyun—Dongmin’s friend, suddenly appears.

He greets Dongmin, patting his shoulder. “Yo, Taesan, long time no see! Wait–” he pauses, laying his eyes on you. “Wait, am I dreaming? You two? Sitting together? Laughing? Are pigs flying now?”

You immediately shake your head, laughing along with Jaehyun. Dongmin, on the other hand, is dazed. He stays silent, still unsure of what to say. He’s finding everything peculiar—the way he’s unable to say anything, the way that his heart is thumping loudly against his chest at the mention of you as his girlfriend. 

He watches you politely say goodbye to Jaehyun, gaining certainty with every beat of his heart. 

His little crush on you is resurfacing, after two years of pushing it down with faked hatred. 

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AFTER Jaehyun leaves, you let yourself sneak a glance at Taesan, who’s absentmindedly poking holes in his already destroyed pie crust, avoiding your gaze. You notice his oddly quiet state—the Taesan you know would never miss the chance to throw in a witty remark. 

You throw him a glare, slightly hoping it’d make him knock out of his trance. You set your fork down with an audible clink. “You’re being weird. I mean, you always are insufferably weird, but this is even weirder.”

Taesan scoffs, lifting his drink to his lips. “And you’re being annoying. Paranoid.”

You cross your arms, an annoyed grimace forming on your face. “Am I?”

Taesan holds your gaze for a moment too long, something flickering in his eyes before he looks away. “Maybe not.”

Oh.

You lean back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. I don’t get what you being weird has with me being paranoid, but yeah, I’m totally being paranoid. Definitely imagining things,” you scoff sarcastically.

Taesan hums in agreement. “You do that a lot.”

You choke on air. Glaring at Taesan, you retort, “you’re infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are, sharing dessert with me,” Taesan smirks, tilting his head. 

You pause, blinking profusely.

That… is a valid point. How did you even get here? You and Taesan are supposed to be rivals. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other?

Your stomach twists, and suddenly, you find it difficult to swallow your final bites of apple pie.

After moments of deafening silence, you say, your voice slightly wavering, “you’re unbelievably good at dodging questions, Taesan.”

You bring your drink to your lips, hoping that you sounded casual. 

Taesan looks up from his finished plate of apple pie, smirking as he leans back. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever considered that you’re too good at asking too many questions, and it’s insufferable?”

Your eyes widen slightly, flickering to the way that his eyes glare vaguely at you. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly, “but you’re dodging the real ones.”

Taesan’s smirk falters a little bit, just for a second, and there’s something unrecognisable in his eyes. Something you can’t put a name on. 

Maybe a shift in the air. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe it’s because your heart is racing just a little too fast.

You’re so focused on trying to read Taesan’s expressions that you don’t notice the way your voice softens. “So… if this whole thing is an act, why do I keep feeling like you actually care?”

You mentally hit yourself. That isn’t what you meant to say—and it’s certainly not what you would say in front of Taesan.

Though, it’s out before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain.

Taesan freezes, his eyes widening with a vulnerability for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly as it came, his guard comes back up. “Like we’ve discussed before, it’s an act. Nothing more.”

His voice is stern and plain, and his expression is stoic, but you catch the tremble in his hand as he’s fiddling with his fork. 

That, somehow, doesn’t sit right with you. 

You learn forward, the pendant swinging against your décolletage, your expression more serious now. “Then why do you care so much?”

You watch him closely, catching the tightening in his jaw and the way his hand proceeds to rest on the table, fingers anxiously tapping against the wood. Taesan doesn’t answer immediately, and instead, he looks away to drift his gaze to the window.

Your chest suddenly tightens. He’s acting like this is nothing, but you certainly feel it—the crack in the walls you’ve both constructed carefully against each other. It’s a tug at the back of your mind, a repeating whisper you’ve been trying so hard to push away.

And yet, the silence between you feels louder than ever.

Minutes pass by and the silence gets louder and louder. You’re lost in your own thoughts—realising just how much you’re affected by Taesan; just how much more you’re feeling than you want to admit. In the silence, you’re wondering, are you just imagining all this? Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the fact that you’re finding something more from this fake relationship you have with Taesan, your nemesis. 

Though, there’s something that you can’t deny: the fact that your chest tightens with fluttering butterflies every time he gets too close, every time his words shift to something softer than usual, it’s something that makes your heart trip in your chest.

“Y/N,” Taesan calls, his voice softer than anticipated, and you’re pulled out of your train of thought. You look at him slowly, uncertain and afraid of what’s to come. He pauses, as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “What if… I told you I’m not sure if I can pretend much longer?” 

His gaze finally meets yours, and for a moment, there’s no mask—just the raw sincerity in his eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You open your mouth, trying to say something—but nothing comes out. The evident truth in his words hits you like an ocean wave on a sunny day, and you can’t help but feel something is shifting between you both.

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THE next few weeks pass by like a ridiculously large time-skip in a movie. You’re doing things like you usually do—attend classes, do mootings, send in assignments, study for exams. Though, there’s one big thing in your life that you can’t ignore—Taesan, your fake-dating arrangement, and the lingering, unspoken tension between the two of you. The first week after the coffee shop episode, you couldn’t sleep even a wink—your mind kept on replaying the scenes over and over again, the way you caught Taesan’s guard almost falling down. You’re sure you felt it too, the cracks in the walls you’ve built against him—even for a short moment. 

At school, you’re hyper aware and extra distracted by Taesan. He’s doing his part of the agreement well, acting like he agreed he would. Every glance from him feels like a load of unspoken words, and the air between you two feels heavy. Every day you ponder, unsure of what to do with the new, fragile tension that’s settled between you and Taesan.

Today is the same—everything passes in a blur of lectures, assignments, and studying. You drag your heavy footsteps out of the room, your head spinning at the thought of the many assignments waiting for you. You look up, and the moment you step into the hallway, you see Taesan leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking as calm as ever. 

You walk near him, and your eyes meet—you see a flicker of something there—a tension, a question neither of you have the answer to. 

“Y/N,” Taesan greets you with a casual, unreadable smile. You pause in your steps, turning to face him.

“Hi,” you reply quite timidly. You’re trying to sound casual, but you can hear the slight hitch in your voice. There’s no pretending this isn’t different now. There’s no pretending you didn’t almost cross a line last time. 

Taesan takes a final glance at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Still pretending this is just an act?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft but laced with something familiar, almost teasing.

You pause, your breath stuck in your throat. Your heart, yet again, skips a beat, and you try to brush it off by laughing nervously. “Me? Pretending? I’m not pretending,” you say, and it’s directed more towards yourself than to him.

You’re not sure who’s trying to convince who anymore.

Taesan looks taken aback. He blinks profusely before putting his usual, calm expression back on. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You watch him walk away, heart twisting in the weirdest way. 

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DONGMIN hates the way everything is now. Why can’t he just tell you everything? Why can’t he just tell you that he isn’t pretending, that he actually cares?

He wants to stop everything–going back to shoving insults at your face might be the safest option of them all. Yet, Dongmin finds himself caring for you in the little ways—wrapping his scarf around your neck, adjusting the placement of your bangs with a simple ruffle, placing a tin of coffee and bread in front of you whenever you seem exhausted with studying, sliding post-its to you with his handwriting reminding you to take breaks when needed. He still finds his heart racing upon seeing you; the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought, the way you smile and laugh so adorably upon hearing a funny joke from your friends, the way you’re still so cute even when frustrated. 

As he walks away, Dongmin fights with his own heart. Why was he acting like this? It’s so clear that you’re expecting something more, but why is he pushing you away? 

Dongmin takes a deep breath. Yeah, he’s scared. He’s afraid that maybe it’s all in his head, maybe you’re the one acting so well and it’s just gotten to him. 

Dongmin swears to get himself together, but it looks like he’s going to need more than just mental affirmations. 

The next day, he misses his alarm, for the first time in forever, and is running late to his 9 AM lecture. He’s speed walking through students, dodging them with a bag hanging on one shoulder and his hair still partially wet. Just as he’s about to near the entrance of the Law building, he hears raised voices nearby. He puts his hood up, his first instinct is to ignore it all—he’s got no time to eavesdrop on people’s business. However, he recognises one of the two quarrelling voices—yours. 

Dongmin’s steps come to a halt, and he turns to face you. His eyes slightly widen and his shoulders begin to tense as he sees you and Anton standing a few feet away, locked in an argument. He’s a bit too far away to hear the full conversation, yet he catches some bits of it.

You’re standing at your full height, stiffly in front of Anton, arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. Anton, on the opposite side of you, no longer has that sickening, innocent smile—instead, he’s flashing you a mocking smirk. 

The argument is already reaching its peak, yet Dongmin is quick to analyse the situation just by picking up a few bits. 

“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Anton taunts.

You scoff. Dongmin could tell you’re offended, yet the mask you put on really makes a difference. “At least I don’t have to put other people down to feel important.”

Anton scoffs back, “please. You act like you’re above all this, but you’re just as desperate for attention as everyone else.”

Dongmin clenches his jaw, watching the argument unfold as his fingers begin to twitch. 

You give Anton a mocking laugh, stepping forward. “I don’t care what you think, Anton Lee. I don’t care if you think I don’t love Taesan, because what matters is my own feelings, not yours. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”

Before you could turn away and enter the building, Anton grabs your wrist. 

It’s not aggressive, but it’s enough. Enough to make Dongmin see red.

Everything’s a blur—one second later, he’s towering in front of Anton, his eyes glaring daggers. 

“Let her go,” his voice is low and threatening, as sharp as a blade. 

Anton looks up, initially startled, but as soon as he sees Dongmin, he rolls his eyes. His hand still around your wrist, he says with a sneer, “look who’s here, Y/N’s knight in shining armour! Oh, so great, always the hero.”

Dongmin is too busy counting down the ways he could destroy Anton’s life to be noticing how immediate the warmth creeps up your cheeks. Dongmin, in one fluid motion, steps closer, standing between you and Anton. 

“Did you hear me?” his voice drops deadly lower than before, his posture relaxed yet his eyes are dangerous. “Let. Go.”

Anton huffs, roughly letting go of your hand. He shakes his head. “You two are seriously something else,” he mutters before storming away. 

You and Dongmin stand next to each other, cautiously eyeing Anton until he disappears from sight. For that moment, none of you say anything.

“What was that for?” you say suddenly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t need you to step in.”

Dongmin shoves his hood down to his neck, raising his eyebrow. Feeling slightly irritated, he scorns. “Yeah? Looked like you were having a great time.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but something pinches Dongmin’s heart as he notices there’s no real bite behind it. “I’m fine—I had it all handled.”

Silence. 

Dongmin exhales sharply, words shooting out of his mouth without second thought. “I know. It’s just–” 

He stops, his eyes landing on your wrist. Closes his mouth. 

You wait for a few moments, before warily asking. “What? Just what?”

Dongmin hesitates. Suddenly, it’s all he can push out of his throat. He’s already there, halfway crossing the line he’s put between you and him for the past two years. 

And then, it just… slips out. 

“I just can’t stand it, okay?”

Your frown deepens, confused. “Stand… what?”

Dongmin lets out a frustrated breath, turning sharply to completely face you. “I can’t stand seeing you with people like that fucking bastard. I can’t stand watching you get into these stupid situations. And I really, really can’t stand how much I—”

His eyes widen, and his words stumble upon a stop. Dongmin stammers, realising what he was just about to say. 

“Taesan,” you call, gently, hope suddenly shimmering in your eyes. “How much you what?”

Dongmin freezes. He’s silent, tongue frozen, unable to utter another word.

He can’t say it. 

Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. 

“You know what?” 

“Taesan–”

“Next time,” he says quickly, in a softer voice, “don’t… waste your time on a guy like him.”

Your eye contact is still intact, you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Your eyes widen for a split second—as if you’re catching on to the feelings displayed, unknowingly, on Dongmin’s face. 

His concern is real.

“W-we should go,” you stammer instead, gesturing to the Law building. 

Dongmin nods. He grabs your backpack from you, signalling for you to walk in first. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

You force yourself to walk as swiftly as possible to the lecture hall, heart pounding, mind racing. Behind you, Dongmin’s entire body is tense. He’s finally realising he can’t keep his feelings for you hidden forever.

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THE next day, you can’t stop thinking about Taesan—and whatever he was about to say to you. Your mind races with a million different thoughts throughout the day. What if he actually feels the same? What if you’re not the only one looking for something more in this fake arrangement?

However, given that exams are looming closer, you’re only given a short amount of time to dwell on your thoughts. After your last class of the day, you find yourself cooped up in the library, studying the rest of the day away. Several of your friends join you, too. 

The study group grows, joined by both your friends and Taesan’s—though, you didn’t even realise that Taesan is sitting across you the entire day, until everyone starts leaving one by one. 

By midnight, it’s only you and him. You don’t look up, but you can feel your heart thumping faster than usual. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings—how close he is, how his scent feels comforting yet intimidating, and how his presence is reminding you of something that you’re too afraid to admit. 

“Y/N,” you open your eyes to someone gently shaking your shoulder, the reality of things crashing onto you all at once. You lift your head up, realising that you fell asleep in the middle of reviewing a past paper. Your eyes meet with Taesan’s concerned gaze. 

His voice is low and soft, as if it’s only for you. “Let’s take a break. You’ve been snoozing off way too many times.”

Your heart is beating a little faster than usual, but you agree. Taesan’s request seems too casual, and he looks like he needs a break too. 

You follow his lead, walking a little bit behind him to the convenience store that’s still open in campus grounds. He’s silent, observing you and letting you pick anything you want before paying for both your things and his. 

“Go sit,” he says, holding your instant tteokbokki package in hand, along with his instant noodles. “I’ll heat these up.”

Taesan quickly moves to the microwave before you can say anything in retaliation, a sign that you take seriously. He’s not in the mood for any fights. 

You take a seat, and soon after, Taesan joins you. He puts your instant meal in front of you, breaking your chopsticks for you. 

“Here,” he says, his voice quiet. “Careful, the tteok is still hot.”

He then slips his coat around you before turning back to his own beverages. 

You find yourself staring at him, long after he’s handed you your things. You watch him, peacefully releasing his tension—running a hand through his hair, chugging down a cup of coffee. 

Everything around you looks like it has a blurred filter on, yet one thing is crystal clear: Taesan, and his evident care for you. The longer you stare at him, the more you realise.

He’s always been the one. He’s always been there. 

It hits you harder than any bad grade has ever done. 

Taesan has always been like this—quietly looking out for you, quietly caring for you. 

All this while, all the banter, the little arguments, moments, and glances—it’s not just rivalry. It’s not just the fact that he always finds a way to make you all grumbly and irritated. It’s not just the fact that, even back when you were with Anton, he’d always find a way to show his care for you. 

It’s not just the fact that you enjoy his company, even if he makes you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall. 

You like him. 

You like Han Taesan. 

You quickly turn your head away, blood rushing to your head as soon as the realisation hits you. You stuff a few bites of instant tteokbokki into your mouth, wanting to quickly get rid of whatever this warm, refreshing feeling is. 

“Can you stop looking at me like that, L/N?” 

You cough, shocked at how his sudden comment breaks through the almost comforting silence. All the past moments you’ve had with him—the banter, the insults, the arguments—run through your head as soon as your last name, what Taesan had always called you, reaches your ears.

“Like what?” emboldened by the awakening of your feelings, you retort, your tone more challenging than you intended. 

Taesan snaps, pushing his chair back, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“Like I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

“What?” you’re confused, not expecting that out of his mouth. “What are you–”

“Like you’re waiting for me to say something that I know I can’t take back.”

“Say it, then.”

You say, challenging him. It feels sentimental—like the old days, where all you did when you met Taesan was throw taunting words at him. But at the same time, the words come out of your mouth without realising—daring the two of you to finally cross the line. 

“I like you, okay? I probably love you at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know when it started, but I do. And I—” He exhales sharply, his voice softer. “I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t.”

The world stops spinning and you stare at him, blank. 

Your tongue feels numb, your heart racing at a million miles per hour. 

You feel the same, you’re sure, but you don’t know how to respond. Do you smile and say it back? Do you tease him, calling him an idiot like you always do? 

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you catch Taesan muttering. 

You smile. “Me too,” you say softly. 

Taesan lifts his head immediately, sharply turning to you with widened eyes. “... pardon?”

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THE next few days feel like a refreshing spring breeze in the peak of winter, yet the air is filled with a cute awkwardness. After the confession, neither of you explicitly announce to one another that the two of you are a real couple now—yet your interactions feel new and unscripted, but no one exactly is making the first move. 

Of course, your friends notice before the two of you do. 

You’re sitting at the food hall together with Yunjin and Sophia, eating breakfast. You’re halfway through your pancakes, and Taesan—or Dongmin, as you call him now—suddenly takes a seat next to you. 

“Mind if I join, girls?” he asks, a charming grin on his face. He’s asking the table, yet his gaze is directed to you. You bite your lip shyly, nodding.  

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Yunjin says, her words laced with teasing. She watches with eagle eyes as Dongmin puts all of the sliced bananas from his serving of pancakes onto yours, knowing that you especially enjoy them with your breakfast pancakes. She snorts at the obvious look of love in Dongmin’s eyes, more evident now that he isn’t shoving insults at your face. “So, you two are really dating now?”

You choke on your bite of pancake, immediately blurting out,

“No!”

“Yes.”

You sharply turn to Dongmin, who has a smug look on his face. It’s the one look on his face that you’re used to, yet there’s a tint of pink on his cheeks. The edge of his smirk twitches, threatening to form into a cute, lovesick smile. 

“...I see,” Sophia interrupts your awkward eye contact, sighing dramatically. 

“We’re dating?” you ask Dongmin acutely, your brows connecting in an embarrassed frown. 

“I don’t know,” Dongmin shrugs casually, the look in his eyes teasing. “Are we?”

The blush that instantly creeps up your cheeks tells you the answer. You look away, suddenly focused on the way you’re cutting your pancakes. Dongmin’s laugh echoes to your left, and your friends’ send you teasing looks. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

A few months later, on the first week back after winter break, you go on a walk around campus with your boyfriend, Han Dongmin. It feels weird, calling him yours now. Just almost half a year ago, you were fighting your ego to have your nemesis fake-date you in order to intimidate your ex into leaving you and your life alone. Now, that same thorn in your side has become the light of your life, the apple of your eye. Now, the two of you are in something that’s not written on a flimsy contract.

Dongmin had also helped clear out the rumours surrounding you—in the most annoying, Han Taesan way—announcing the truth about Anton by spreading it like a rumour to everyone. You still get second-hand embarrassment remembering that day, bombarded by questions and apologies from acquaintances and people you’ve only seen around. 

“You know,” you say dreamily, distracted by your train of thought, “you’re so annoying—but I love you.”

Dongmin freezes, his steps coming to an immediate halt. You, too, freeze in your steps as you realise you’re a few steps ahead of him now. You turn around, eyebrows perked up. “What’s wrong, Dongmin?”

Dongmin. 

The sound of your voice calling his birth name repeats in his mind, like a favourite song on loop. He stares, unable to say anything. His eyes fall on the pendant dangling from your neck, one that you started wearing due to the fake-dating arrangement. He remembered insisting that you take it off, so that he can buy you a new one later, but you said that it’s special so you won’t take it off. 

I love you. 

Dongmin feels a smile slowly bloom on his face. 

She said it. She didn’t even hesitate. It’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

His face softens, jogging up to you. He gives you a cheeky smile. 

“Say that again.”

You frown. “What again?”

“The first part.”

“What–” you pause, eyes widening as you get what he’s talking about. Heat rushes up your cheeks, warming your face despite Dongmin’s scarf wrapped around it. “I–”

“Yeah,” Dongmin says, smirking as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Me too.”

You bury yourself into the familiar scent of Dongmin’s scarf as he kisses your cheek. 

“Fuck you, Han Dongmin,” you grumble, ignoring the obvious butterflies in your stomach. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THAT weekend, you and Dongmin are eating lunch together at your favourite coffee shop. Dongmin had said that the vibes there makes him sleepy, and tried to bring you to eat at one of the more famous restaurants near the KOZ School of Engineering, yet the plan backfires on him when the line is certainly too long. 

Now, the two of you are back at your favourite coffee shop, sipping warm cinnamon lattes. 

“See?” you tease, smiling cheekily. “I told you this place is the best.”

Dongmin rolls his eyes, taking a big spoonful of the chocolate cinnamon roll on your plate. “I want to eat some real food, like kimchi jjigae, not these sweet chocolate desserts,” he complains, though he can’t hide the fact that he secretly loves it. 

“Yet you’re the one finishing my cinnamon roll,” you retort, letting him subconsciously finish your dessert. You’re familiar with his love for chocolate.

Dongmin flashes you an innocent smile, shrugging. “Not my fault.”

Comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s presence. Suddenly, Dongmin leans closer, adjusting the place of the H.D pendant on your décolletage. Frozen, you watch him lean back into his seat, smiling as he admires you. 

“You look good today,” he murmurs, “actually, you look good everyday.”

An undeniable tint of pink colours your face. “I’m literally wearing a black turtleneck sweater, Dongmin.”

His gaze softens. “Like the first time you sat next to me, three years ago, during our foundation year.”

Your eyes widen, your mind replaying the memory, fresh like it happened yesterday. “You… remember?” 

“Of course,” Dongmin replies, his smile delicate. 

“I even remember the day you walked up to me, confident and all. I thought you were going to brag to my face that you won first place for the quiz we had the day before, but then you told me to fake date you.”

You almost spit out the coffee from your mouth. “Han Dongmin!” you hiss. “Don’t remind me… it was so stupid.”

“Stupid?” Dongmin asks, tilting his head. The signature cocky smirk is back on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, “I mean, I could’ve resolved the matter by myself, you know–”

“But you know that I’m the best option,” Dongmin cuts you off, smug. You roll your eyes.

“I don’t think it’s stupid, though,” he continues, his expression softer. More… raw. “To be honest, I think I was ecstatic that you walked up to me that day.”

“Why?” you ask croakily. 

“‘Cause I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I always have. I just don’t understand where things went wrong—maybe it’s the way I thought teasing you would gain me your attention at first. It did. But then, you became used to my teasing and thought of me as a threat—maybe ‘cause I’m smart as hell, too—but yeah. I don’t know how to say it but, all of that hatred was… pretend.”

You blink at him, too shocked to process his words. You try to reply, but mere stuttering comes out, and your face turns bright red. 

Dongmin notices this, of course, and he turns on his shameless, impudent grin. “Besides, you said you’re going to grant me any wish that I have, right?”

Oh. 

You inhale sharply. How could you forget? You immediately bring out your phone, checking the balance in your bank account. It’s quite a luxury, due to you working a few part time jobs during your break and whenever you can—but you certainly don’t think it’s fit for whatever grand wish Dongmin is about to demand from you. 

“Fine,” you huff, “only because it’s part of our… old contract.”

“Old contract, huh?” Dongmin wheezes, already laughing hard. You frown, fighting back a smile. 

“Why are you always laughing whenever I speak, dumbass?”

“Hey,” Dongmin pauses his laughter, flicking your forehead gently. It doesn’t even hurt, but you gasp dramatically, and he laughs it off. “It’s babe for you, sweet girl. And, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just admiring how cute and funny you are.”

Babe, huh?

You snort, hiding a smile. “Fine.”

“Anyway, speaking of the old contract,” Dongmin grins, “what’s the new one, then?”

“You haven’t even told me what sort of dumb, overpriced thing you want for your wish,” you say, lips set in a grim line. “And now you want another one?”

“My wish, huh?”

The unreadable look on his face makes you brace yourself and your wallet.

“Then, my darling, this is my wish.”

Dongmin leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. It’s subtle, short and sweet, but significant enough for you to realise it all—the reality of your feelings and his. He lingers for a while before sitting back in his chair. 

“So,” he says coolly, ignoring the plain blush streaked across his face. “Can you grant me the wish? To kiss you anytime, and anywhere I want?”

“Basically, physical affection can be done anytime?” you say, quoting what this man in front of you said months ago, when both of you first agreed on the fake-dating situation. The whole absurd set-up that brought the two of you to where you are, today. 

Dongmin laughs, clearly impressed. “Yeah,” he nods. 

You give him a warm smile, glad that you’re finally able to follow your heart’s desires, and to not put up a wall of defense around him anymore. 

“Wish granted.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

[gooobraghhh]

I’ve successfully completely broken a mutual of mine and it has been so fun

I’ve talked about @the-kennel-keeper on here a few times but I think I really need to display the whole picture.

He started out like most of my followers, a puppy boy anon in my askbox that had a massive crush on me, but I had happened to follow his account along with like 10 others that were in the trans nsft tag when I first made this blog. He sent me an anonymous ask about realizing I followed him and how it got him so exited but he spam liked me like right before he sent it which made it exceedingly obvious who he was. That little pathetic mistake that was rip for being made fun of was the first thing that got me interested and his general tendency to accidentally humiliate himself or be easily tricked has remained extremely adorable. He finally dm’d me some message about how much he loves my blog since he wanted my direct attention and he did one of those ask games where one of the questions was like “who’s your tumbr crush?” and of course I asked him that one anonymously.

Surprise surprise he says me and at that point I’d sort of gathered too much dirt on him to let it go to waste and I really didn’t even try. We flirted, he talked about how he was only submissive in an extremely defiant, bratty way and how he basically can’t be tamed which just made him all the more alluring of a target for me. He did act like that for a while, but I built up to this perfect demeaning message where I revealed both of my little secrets on him and he just had no choice but to give in. The message ended with me telling him that I own him and I managed to get a “Yes ma’am” in response. He got so worked up that night that he finally got himself off after not being able to for months. I think that’s when I truly gained control over him.

Since then I’ve been slowly training him more and more. Learning exactly what gets him flustered and makes him tick. He started being more obedient, begging on command, singing my praises. A month or two later and the progress is undeniable. Hes cum for me a total of ~10 times (probably more than that, he couldn’t remember the exact number at first but I let him round down) 5 of which have been in the last 24 hours. He volunteered to send me audios of him jerking off and praising how good he’s been trained, he responds “yes ma’am” to basically every command I give him.

I know him so well that I can make him kind of shut down and give in from just a sentence or two of dirty talk. I mean I really pushed him today and yesterday and he couldn’t help but get himself off several times while recording it for me.

This man genuinely thought he was untamable, before talking to me he hadn’t even cum in months, but I’ve taken real good care of my new mutt. Thoroughly corrupted him into my perfect toy. Sometimes I even give him dirt on me just to give him a fighting chance but he’s so pathetic it doesn’t even matter. He’s had sex dreams about me and has chatted with me while around his friends, desperately trying to keep his composure.

So I’m starting a counter in my pinned of how many times he’s cum while thinking of me. It’s only fair I get to show off my hard work I think. We can all enjoy seeing how fucking pitifully submissive my mutt is.

And you can be jealous of him while that number ticks up because I know there’s a lot of you that’d kill to be in his position.

Exited to see how fast I can get keep the number increasing.

[emsdevs]

Luke Hughes requests reader is doing the TikTok trend where she ask Luke and Jack questions about her to see who knows her better but pretends that Jack get all the answers right and Luke gets them wrong and his reaction Jack also knows what the reader is up to please

Know Me Better

a/n: i had way way wayyy too much fun with this one! nonnie you're a genius!! sorry for the wait but i hope it was worth it!! fair warning this is mostly dialogue!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Luke Hughes Masterlist

It took you days to talk both boys into doing a TikTok with you. Jack was completely against it until you told him you planned to prank Luke, and then he was game. Luke was much easier to convince after you had Jack’s help.

About a week ago, you were doing your nightly TikTok scroll when you came across a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend. She had gotten him and his best friend to answer questions she was asking about herself. However, she was pretending that whatever the best friend said was right and her boyfriend was wrong. The best friend was obviously in on it, and it took the boyfriend way too long to catch on. As soon as the video ended, you knew you needed to try the video with Luke and Jack. 

Now, the two brothers sat at their kitchen table, you standing behind them with your list of questions at the ready. You prop your phone up and press record. 

“Okay, guys, so I have this list of questions about myself, and I’m gonna make my boyfriend and his brother,” you point at Luke and Jack respectively, “and by the end, we’ll see who knows me better. You guys ready?”

“So ready, babe.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” “Okay! First question is easy. What is my favorite color?”

“Oh! Easy it’s purple!” Luke is the first to answer.

“No bro it’s green,” Jack says smoothly.

“Jack got it right! Good job!”

“Babe, no. Your favorite color is purple. It’s always been purple,” Luke is confused, his brows furrowed.

“No, hun, I changed it a few weeks ago remember? We talked about it with Jack.”

“Whatever,” he gives up, not wanting to argue while doing something you were so excited for.

“Okay, next question! What is my favorite flower?” “Oh! Marigolds!” Jack jumps in first this time.

“Um, no. It’s lilies.”

“Actually, Lukey, Jack is right! How did you even know that?” “Heard you guys talking about it last week,” Jack shrugs, knowing that’s not what he heard you say your favorite flower was.

“You mean when I got her lilies, and she was so happy because lilies are her favorites? So she told me that lilies were her favorites ten times?” Luke was beginning to get frustrated, narrowing his eyes at his brother. He knows for a fact that lilies are your favorite flowers, so he doesn’t know where Jack is pulling his information from or why you’re agreeing with everything Jack says. Then again, what if Jack is right? Is Luke a bad boyfriend?

“Anyway! Next! What color were my nails two weeks ago?”

“Light blue!” Jack speaks up again. He had no idea what color your nails were. He was guessing random stuff at this point.

“They were dark red, kinda a maroon color, and your ring fingers had a tiny white heart on them,” Luke knows there’s no way he was getting this one wrong. He had gone to your nail appointment with you, content to sit and mess around on his phone while you got your nails done. 

“Wow, Luke, that’s impressive detail, but Jack was right.”

“What?” he was borderline shouting, not really angry, just offended. He knew he was right, but what if he wasn’t? Either way, how was Jack getting every question right? “Babe, I know for a fact that’s what you got. I bought them. At the salon. I was there. I paid. Right in front of you.”

“No, baby, that was the set before the blue ones,” you force yourself to ignore the pout that now sits on your boyfriend’s face, “Okay, next up! What’s my go-to karaoke song?”

“Oh! It’s ‘Black’ by Dierks Bentley!”

“No, dude. It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ from that one Meryl Streep movie,” Jack had seen you sing that song once at karaoke, and it was after you sang “Black.”

“Oh, my god! Jack got it right, again!”

“No, babe. We sing ‘Black’ together,” Luke was giving you puppy dog eyes now, and you’re not sure how long you can keep this up.

Jack steps in to save you from answering again, “Yeah, bro, but she said her go-to karaoke song. That one is for both of you.”

“Whatever. How many more questions are there?” His pout is intensifying, and you can tell if you keep this up much longer, he’ll walk out. You decide to make the next question a little more obvious, something only Luke would know.

“Okay, Lukey, you should get this one. What did I eat on our first date?”

“Chicken alfredo,” Luke answers without even having to think about it. He remembers every detail of that night. 

“Nah, she had a plate of shrimp.” You don’t eat shrimp. Jack knows this. Luke knows this. That’s when it all sets in for Luke.

“Are you two kidding me?” he shrieks standing up, giggles coming out of his open mouth. “You’ve been messing with me this whole time?”

“Yes, Lukey,” you’re cracking up. You can’t help it, “You got every question right.”

“I knew it! You two had me freaking out thinking I was a bad boyfriend or something!”

“Sorry, man. She put me up to it,” Jack could barely talk through his laughter, but he still managed to throw you under the bus.

“Jerk!” Jack continued laughing as he walked away. You stopped the video, laughter still taking over you and Luke, “I’m sorry. I saw a video like that and thought it would be funny,” you smile at your boyfriend sheepishly.

“Yeah, real funny,” he rolls his eyes before grabbing your waist and throwing you over his shoulder.

You’re overcome with giggles yet again, “Where are you taking me?”

“To bed! We’re watching Secretariat, so you can make this up to me! And your hand better be in my hair the whole time!”

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[commandershepardvasfuckit]

Wild Gods

Part 1

M!tiger god x f!reader

After the worst humiliation of your life you fled into the surrounding woods to clear your head and get some distance from it all. The beautiful ruins you stumbled into however held more than just history, a mysterious being there seems so believe that you are his long lost mate.

(Based off the ask here!)

————

Literal blood, sweat and tears down the drain. Years of practicing and refining your spell until perfection only to be turned away. It wasn’t fair! You did everything right and still the council turned you away! All of your friends were accepted though, only adding to your own disappointment.

You muttered a quick “thank you for your time” before leaving, your face red with both anger and sorrow. Once you were far enough away from the gathering you ran, you weren’t sure to where you were running, but you couldn’t go home to face to your family quite yet.

Farther and farther into the surrounding woods you ran until trees gave way to flowers. Beautiful, fragrant flowers adorning ruins. Even crumbling away the ruins still held such majesty, and the sweet smell of the flowers was so familiar and stirred something in you.

Many times had you ventured into the woods to gather reagents, though you had never stumbled across these ruins before. The woods here were well explored, but you had never heard of anything like this in them.

You wandered farther into them, there was something weirdly soothing about walking around here, which was appreciated about now. Well, it was soothing until you heard the crunch of gravel from behind you. Quickly you turned and swore you caught a long, feline tail that disappeared into the dense foliage, too fast to be able to tell if your eyes were just playing tricks on you, though now you also swore you were being watched.

You started to run, something was here with you and you were not keen on finding out exactly what it was, though at soon as you turned to move you collided with something. Someone.

He stood tall and regal, with the head of a tiger and covered with soft, mottled fur that was warm where your face was against his chest after running into him. Light reflected off the gold bangles adorning his wrists and he quickly moved to hold you against him. He placed a hand under your chin to tilt your face up to his, his tail wrapping around one of your legs.

“There you are, my queen. I have been waiting so long for you” he nearly purred.

You tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too tight.

“Who are you?” you asked.

“The lord of this place, though you know that” he was purring and nuzzling the top of your head.

You squirmed against him more, trying to get away though he showed no intent on releasing you.

“I have waited so long for you to return to me. So long here alone. But you have returned to me at last, my mate.”

“I, I don’t-” you stammered, trying to wrap your mind around the situation, “I’m not.”

“I would know you anywhere, my mark is on your very soul. You are my mate returned to me, do not shy away.”

Your pulse was rising in your throat, fear gripping you and taking over. You felt as though you could pass out, this strange being speaking as if he knew you.

“You were taken from me too soon before, but I will not let them take you from me again” his grip on you tightened, clawed hands digging into your skin, “This time I will rebuild my kingdom with you at my side. This time you will accept my gift this time and reign at my side. Our children will grow proud and strong, our daughters more radiant than the sun and our sons stronger than the mountains.”

Slowly he had backed you against a column, pinning you between the cool, smooth stone and his own well built form. His breath was warm on your neck as he nuzzled against you and you felt him grinding his hips against you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt them tearing up. You failed at your life’s ambition, you had no idea how to go home and face your family, no idea how to carry on with your life now, and now you were trapped by this strange being.

“You are… scared?” he asked.

You cracked your eyes open to see him looking down at you, a sad expression on his face and his brow knitted together in confusion.

“You truly do not remember me at all?” he asked.

Unable to find you words you just shook your head. His grip on you loosened and his tail dropped from where it was wrapped around your leg.

“I’ve waited so long” he started again, “And you look at me like a stranger.”

“I don’t, I don’t know who you are” you stammered out, “You have the wrong person.”

“No!” an edge of almost anger slipped into his voice, but dropped almost immediately, “It is etched on your very soul, I would know you anywhere. And even after a thousand years your soul still drew you back here, back to me.”

You shifted uncomfortably, glad he was no longer pressed against you at least, but you had no idea what to do now. Returning home meant facing your family in shame, explaining that all your years of hard work were for nothing, that of all your friends you were the only one not accepted to the council. You had nowhere else to go, and now this strange being was convinced that you were his mate.

“You are finally home at least” he purred, “Come, let me help you get settled in, maybe you will remember then.”

You did not know why, but you followed him between the crumbling walls of the ruins, you supposed you really had nowhere else to go anyways.

“What are these flowers?” you asked.

“Jasmine, your favorite. You planted them here all those years ago.”

The ruins were an absolute labyrinth, every turn taking you deeper and to the point where you did not think you could trace your way back out. He lead you to a room that least still had a roof, though even then it was scarcely better off than the rest of things.

“I know it is not much now, but now that I have you at my side again I will be able to finally start rebuilding” he said, “Come, it is late, lay with me and rest.”

You followed him to what was less of a bed and more of a nest. His tone indicated that it was less of a request and more of a command and you were certain you did not want to test his temper. Pillows, soft silks, and pelts formed a surprisingly cozy place to rest as he pulled you against his chest.

You couldn’t help but sniffle. You failed the most important moment of your life, you did not know how you could ever face your family, and from the way this strange being was talking he seemed intent on not letting you leave here.

“There is no need for that. You are safe and home. Soon everything will be back as it is supposed to be” he leaned down to run his rough tongue along your cheek, catching the few tears that rolled down. “This place will be beautiful once more. You will take your place at my side to rule, you will bear our children, and this time I will make sure no one takes you from me.”

You don’t know for how long you laid there, his arm wrapped around you and preventing you from being able to get up and leave. His face was buried against the back of your neck while he laid on his side and clutched your to his chest, you could feel how purred even in his sleep.

Tomorrow you would sort this mess out. Explain to him better that you weren’t his mate, that he was mistaken. That you needed to return home and review your spell again, that surely with a little polishing up you could try again and impress the council. But for now you couldn’t do much of anything. So instead you would sleep, clear your mind, and worry about it all in the morning.

[rhiannonsknife]

could I put in a request for Lucy MacLean x Wasteland!reader? you both find shelter and you usually take first watch because you’re used to staying up late. Except Lucy has a habit of making your job harder than it has to be because she just starts yapping and won’t go to sleep right away. Take yesterday night for example, you underestimated her ability to run out of things to talk to you about and you lost about 2-3 hours of sleep because of it. Tonight, Lucy’s about 15 minutes into her yap session when you randomly ask her if she wants to have sex, she’s delighted at the idea and agrees. You wanna tire this woman out, what’s a more efficient method than giving her a few orgasms? (maybe even include this being Lucy’s first time being eaten out?)

── GUILTY PLEASURE

— summary: lucy won’t stop talking.

— warnings: kind of inexperienced!lucy. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni. this took me a month to edit but here we are.

the shelter you’d stumbled upon earlier isn’t much. it’s hardly anything at all: half a roof, crumbling walls, and a faint musty smell.

still, it seemed better than sleeping under the open sky where god knows what could catch you off guard. so, you decide to settle yourself near the door, leaning against the wall with your weapon in easy reach. first watch, as always.

and, as always, lucy is making it harder than it needs to be.

she’s sprawled on her bedroll a few feet away, her head propped on her pack like a makeshift pillow. the dim glow of the dying embers between you throws flickering shadows across her face, as she talks.

“-and, i mean, who even puts that much trust in a filtration system, you know?” she says, her tone exasperated. “it’s like, sure, the overseers say it’ll last forever, but what happens when the pipes get clogged? no backup system, no-“

you pinch the bridge of your nose, cutting her off before she can spiral any further into whatever story she’s telling you from her life in vault 33. “lucy-“

“what?”

“i thought we agreed you’d try to sleep during my watch!”

“we did,” she says, shifting to rest on her elbows now . never a good sign. “but you’re awake anyway, so it’s not like i’m interrupting anything. besides, you’re terrible at keeping yourself entertained. i’m doing you a favor!”

you give her a flat look. “i don’t need ‘to be entertained’. i need quiet!”

lucy scoffs. “quiet seems overrated. besides, what if something sneaks up on you? you’ll want me awake to watch your back.”

“that’s literally my job right now,” you deadpan, gesturing toward what once was a door.

“okay, fair,” she says with a shrug. “but what if you fall asleep? then we’re both screwed!”

you let your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud, staring at the cracked ceiling. “lucy, if i fall asleep, it’ll be because you spent all night talking about pipes and filtration systems instead of letting me do my job and i’ve bored myself to death!”

“i’m just saying, vault-tec could’ve planned better” lucy goes on after a short pause, like you’ve never asked her to stop at all. “like, one person on maintenance for an entire level? no wonder the water tasted weird that day!”

this has been your dynamic ever since you met her: lucy talking your ear off, filling the silence with anything and everything that comes to her mind.

“do you ever stop?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at her.

“not really,” lucy says, grinning. “another thing,” she leans forward slightly. “i get why you’re all about this ‘quiet’ thing, but maybe you’d actually enjoy these little watch shifts if you talked more. or, you know, let me help you stay awake!”

you scoff. “help me stay awake?”

“yeah,” she says. “like conversations, or games, or- i don’t know, literally anything but sitting there staring into the darkness like some broody protagonist in a bad holotape!”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, despite yourself.

she beams, triumphant, and leans back again, her hands clasped behind her head. “you’re welcome.”

the wasteland beyond the door feels vast and empty, the moonlight barely illuminating the cracked ground and jagged ruins. you focus on the shadows, your grip tightening slightly on your rifle. lucy’s voice continues behind you, her words blending into the ambient hum of the night.

another ten minutes of this pass, your patience wearing thinner with every syllable; your initial plan to just wait for her to get sleepy doesn’t seem to be working.

“if i had been in charge of the vault party planning committee, there’s no way they would’ve run out that fast” she’s currently recalling. “it’s simple logistics. one crate for every-“

“lucy,” you interject, your voice flat.

“what?”

“are you ever going to go to sleep?”

“eventually,” she says with a shrug. “it’s not like i’m bothering you, right?”

you sigh, defeated. “you are absolutely bothering me,”

she ignores that completely, her tone turning thoughtful. “it’s kinda nice, though, isn’t it? i talk, you listen, we bond. i mean, sure, you don’t say much, but that’s probably because you’re so fascinated by what i have to say-“

“lucy…”

“-which i get! not everyone grew up in a vault, so my perspective is pretty-“

“lucy!”

she finally pauses. “yes?”

you turn fully, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you cross your arms. “do you want to have sex?”

the words hang in the air for a beat, and for once, lucy falls completely silent. you watch as her face cycles through surprise, confusion, and delight in rapid succession.

“wait, what?” she asks, already sitting up. “do i- are you serious?”

you shrug, trying to look nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck. “you’re not gonna sleep, and you’re definitely not gonna let me do my thing. i figure if i wear you out, i might actually get some peace and quiet tonight,”

lucy blinks at you, and then, once you’re fairly sure she will turn the insane offer down, she grins.

you‘ve thought about it before. not about sex, necessarily, but tamer things: you found yourself staring at lucy in the rare moments when she wasn’t chatting away, eyes studying her features whenever she hadn’t been looking your way. you thought about kissing her, too, about her body against yours and-

well, perhaps you had thought about sex with her.

you never figured out what vault dwellers like her learned about sex down there. only that, presumably, she does seem to know what you’re on about, judging by her enthusiasm.

“this is the best thing you’ve suggested so far,” she says, already tossing aside her blanket and crossing the small room to stand beside you.

lucy lingers above you for a moment, her eyes scanning over you as if weighing her next move. she takes her time. when she finally lowers herself into your lap, it’s with purpose, every movement measured. her weight presses into your thighs, grounding you in place, while her palms rest on your shoulders. lucy’s thumbs gently trace circles on your skin through your clothes as her eyes search yours.

to your surprise, you are the first to falter under her gaze, something lucy so clearly relishes. a satisfied glint flickers in her eyes just before her hands glide up, fingers curling around your jaw as she cups your face. without warning, she tilts your head back, guiding your gaze to hers again, brushing absently over the corner of your lips.

“don’t look away now,” she murmurs, a teasing rasp, her breath ghosting over your skin.

her thumb and forefinger catch your chin, holding it firmly as she hovers there, close, her lips parting ever so slightly as if to speak.

just when you think you can’t stand it any longer, lucy finally leans in.

her lips meet yours, soft at first, almost tentative, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction. she grazes the sides of your face, memorizing the feel of you beneath her touch. the kiss deepens quickly, the tension from earlier bleeding away into something much softer, more urgent.

her confidence only falters when she first tries to grind down against your pelvis, searching for a friction you cannot provide. you’re not sure what she had expected, or if she’s moving on instinct, but this is when it seems to sink in that lucy is in no position to fully take the lead here.

“are you a virgin?” you blurt at her puzzled expression.

“no!” lucy says, shaking her head. “no, it’s not- i got married remember…?” she grimaces, recalling the events that had followed her rather short lived ‘marriage’ in vault 33.

“okay, so…” you start. “what’s going on here, then?”

“i-” her gaze flicks between you and some point over your shoulder. her cheeks flush. “i just- well, you know, it’s not that different, right?”

“lucy…” your voice softens, even as you fight back a laugh. “do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“yes!” she says immediately, too quickly. then she hesitates. “well…sort of?”

you give her a look, and her face crumples into a sheepish grimace.“okay, fine, no,” lucy admits, throwing her hands up in defeat. “but i wasn’t going to say that out loud! i thought i could just…figure it out as we went.”

you sigh, though there’s no real annoyance in it. “you’ve been with someone before. why didn’t you-”

“because it’s different!” she interrupts, her voice rising again. “i mean, for one thing, he wasn’t…” she waves her hand vaguely in your direction, her words trailing off like she’s afraid to finish the thought.

“a woman?” you supply.

“yes, exactly,” lucy nods. then, as if to clarify: “not that that’s bad! it’s just- i don’t really know what i’m supposed to- how i’m supposed to…” her voice fades again, and she presses her lips together, clearly frustrated with herself.

“lucy,” you say gently, drawing her attention back to you. “it’s not something you’re supposed to just know. especially if…” you pause, hesitant to touch on something that might sting. “especially if it wasn’t…encouraged where you grew up,”

she frowns, her brows pulling together. “yeah, well, vault 33 wasn’t exactly a…bastion of sexual enlightenment! marriage, reproduction, carrying on the bloodline…i suppose it was always about the next generation, never about- this!”

lucy sighs.

“and, look,” her words come in a rush now, like she’s determined to explain everything before you can judge her. “it’s not like i have a problem with it! i mean, clearly, i don’t, because we’re, uh, doing…whatever this is. i just…i guess i thought it’d be easier to figure out!”

you reach up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. all your previous annoyance has melted away, replaced by a need to show her that this -sex- could be about so much more than just reproduction. “you don’t have to figure it out all at once, you know. we’ve got time!”

lucy’s gaze meets yours, hesitant but hopeful. “we do?”

“yeah,” you say softly, your fingers lingering against her cheek. “you don’t have to take the lead here, either. just…trust me, okay?”

“okay,” she says quietly. “okay, i trust you,”

“good,” you lean up, brushing your lips against hers, slow and careful. her shoulders relax immediately, and when she kisses you back, it’s sweeter than before: less frantic, more curious, like she’s letting herself feel everything for the first time.

you kiss her slowly at first, moving your lips in sync with lucy’s. she’s following your lead now, letting you set the pace of your mouths. she still seems as eager though, and when she starts moving her hips again, you’re prepared:

instead of your pelvis, you maneuver her so that she’s grinding on your thigh, finally giving her access to the friction she’d been searching for.

“o-oh-“ lucy mewls softly, her head lulling back as she ruts against you for a little while. you can feel the warmth radiating from between her legs already, damp through the fabric of her suit.

taking it off will be a risk, of course: stripping naked would make a quick escape damn near impossible. but you decide that, as you feel her arousal drag over your leg, lucy maclean is worth every risky decision that might come with it.

so, as she moves against you, as high-pitched moans start spilling from her throat, you reach for the zipper of the blue suit. it parts smoothly, the soft scraping of the interlocking metal echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

you look up at lucy, only vaguely aware of the white bralette that comes into view now that you’re unzipping her clothes.

you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by blatantly staring but the skin that’s revealed to you makes it impossibly hard. so, instead, you choose another way to show off your appreciation: without tearing your eyes from hers, you lean in and press your mouth to the flesh between her collarbones, then move lower.

lucy gasps, her lips parted and her brows slightly furrowed. it’s her who peels the sleeves of her jumpsuit from her arms, who lets it pool by her hips and reaches for you all over again. who urges you closer by the back of your head with one hand, while the other grabs the hem of her underwear.

“wow,” you gasp, dumbfounded when lucy -your lucy- tugs the bra upwards enough to free her bare chest from the restrictive fabric. she smiles, shyly, and tilts her head.

her nails sink into your shoulder the second your mouth closes around her nipple; she’s responsive there, more than you ever were, more than you thought she’d be. so responsive that lucy starts moving her hips more frantic when you roll her other nipple between your index and thumb.

and still…”more,” she whines softly, greedily, dragging her soaked center across your flexed muscle. “i want you to touch me,” she breathes. “please”

you trail slow, open mouthed kisses down her torso, your hands gliding over the curve of her back. you press lower, as far as you can reach, until your neck twists at an almost painful angle and lucy's hand finds the back of your head, cradling it gently.

that’s when you shift, moving her body so she’s leaning against the wall and you’re positioned between her spread legs.

lucy watches you through curious eyes, studying your every move as you get to kiss down her body more comfortably. you hold the eye contact, despite the need to stare at her chest (her nipples still hard and wet with your spit) until you have to pull the zipper lower and peel the fabric from her legs.

you slide it off and tuck it beneath her, allowing lucy to rest on it rather than the dirty floor, leaving her in a pair of panties matching the white bralette.

lucy’s body shudders as you kiss back up the expanse of her legs, the muscles in her thighs tensing. obviously, you don’t stop there: you crawl up further and further until you’re almost at the apex, reaching for the waistline of the underwear and-

her legs clamp together suddenly, forcing you back.

“what-“ lucy stammers, unsure. “what are you doing?”

“i was gonna-“ you lick your lips, dropping your hands to her hips. of course lucy has no idea what you were going to do. “can i-“ you consider your words, unsure how to explain it so she’ll understand. “-put my mouth there?”

lucy’s eyes widen. “you want to-”

“please,” you whisper. “please, can i eat you out?”

lucy -her own want betraying her- whines, her hips jerking towards your mouth. from here, between her legs, you can see the wet patch of arousal that has soaked through her underwear.

“okay,” she pants, nodding frantically. “okay, yes. please!”

immediately, you reach out, hook your fingers underneath them and pull the panties down her thighs. you take your time making sure to securely place them in one of the suit’s pockets so they won’t get dirty, before finally turning your gaze back to lucy, who’s waiting in anticipation.

she lets you take in the sight with a nervous look on her face, biting the side of her index.

your fingertips absentmindedly trace the skin, watching the way lucy’s body parts for you. she is beautiful, endlessly beautiful, glistening with arousal, and framed by coarse hair.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve-“ she begins, but you immediately hush her.

“you’re beautiful,”

lucy inhales breathlessly, her fingers forming a v-shape and spreading herself open for you to see.

“fuck-“ you mutter under your breath. lucy’s clit is throbbing.

slowly, you make your way up her thigh. in response, lucy buries her fingers in your hair, sighs softly as she invites you in, and spreads her legs wider.

you nudge her skin with your nose, nipping on the tender flesh.

the first time you put your mouth on lucy, her legs close around your head. her jaw goes slack and her brows furrow in concentration, adjusting to the new sensation.

you start with featherlight kisses to her swollen clit, each making her buck her hips against your face.

“o-oh!” lucy stammers from above, looking almost confused, surprised by how good your lips feel as they brush over her. “that feels so good,” she breathes finally, her body rolling down against your tongue.

“yeah?” you murmur, soothingly wrapping your arms around her thighs to hold her open as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.

“mhm,” lucy nods, but it comes out more like a whine at a particular good press of your lips. just as lucy buries her fingers in your hair, seemingly wanting to push you closer, you push her apart and lick a broad stroke right through her, getting your first actual taste.

instinctively, your eyes roll back, the lewd moan that rips from your throat drowned out by her skin.

“g-god-“ she stutters. “that’s- ah- good.”

unbeknownst to lucy, the sweet praise goes straight to your center. if you had a pillow, or anything useful around, you’d shove it between your legs and grind on it while you eat her out.

but, regardless of your own lack of relief, her words encourage you to lick deeper, to move faster inside of her and show her all that she’s been missing out on. you alternate between fucking your tongue into her, and wrapping your lips around her clit to suck on it, all while lucy pulls your closer, guiding your tongue to where she needs it the most.

you gladly let her, ignoring the occasional sting of your scalp at sharper tugs.

for a while, you eat lucy out like that, getting lost in each of her desperate attempts to stifle her sighs and her taste in your mouth. her words have morphed into muffled babbles above you, incoherent sounds of pleasure.

it doesn’t take long at all until she is getting closer: her head has lulled back against her bag, her moans come out more ragged and breathless, and the leg she has thrown over your shoulder trembles with tension as she pushes her heel down on your spine to urge you closer.

instead of teasing lucy, you go right for it.

your lips close around her clit again, just as two of your fingers sink into her. squirming above you, lucy mindlessly grinds her hips to your face, aching for that release. she chants little ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounds, her cunt tightening around your fingers so much it’s hard for you to thrust them in and out of her.

both your nose and your chin are covered in lucy’s wetness, glistening in the dimly lit space as her hands curl to fists in your hair.

“i feel…” she begins, trailing off. you’re not sure she knows what she’s feeling. or maybe she’s in disbelief because you only have your hands and mouth to use on her and still it’s enough.

either way, you encourage her, putting your thumb in place of your lips, rubbing her clit with the wet pad of your finger to keep her on the edge. “that’s it,” you mumble.

lucy chokes on her noise of approval and just nods her head instead. “yes,” she whispers, over and over, like a prayer. “yes, yes, yes! i’m gonna-“

that’s all of a warning you get before her whole body tenses. her lips are parted in a silent scream, her hips jerk forward once more before it all comes crashing down on lucy. the sound she makes is somewhat between a cry and a moan of your name and she arches her back from the ground when she cums.

you manage to tear your gaze away from her convulsing cunt to catch a glimpse of her, so lost in the haze of her pleasure: lucy’s eyes are shut tightly, her head thrown back so much that the entire expanse of her neck is on display for you.

her walls tighten around your fingers, trying to suck you in deeper, to keep you in place while she trembles with the force of the orgasm she’s riding out on you.

only when her body has stopped shaking, you lean back, not wanting to push her too far. she’s already given you more than enough.

“phew,” lucy says once she’s caught her breath. it’s so ridiculously lucy you have to bite back a laugh. “is it- is it always like this?” she asks by the time you’ve crawled back up her body and slumped down by her side.

you reach for her, not even thinking about it properly until you’re already cradling her face, your thumb grazing over her jaw soothingly. lucy doesn’t seem to mind.

“no,” you manage quietly, taking in her features in the dark. “no, it’s never been like this.”

luct turns her head to look at you, her expression open. she’s still flushed, her hair mussed, her lips kiss-swollen, and she’s smiling.

“i liked it,” she says, voice hushed. then, as if realizing how simple that sounds, she rushes to clarify: “not just because of- well, you know…but because it was you!”

you swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “yeah?”

lucy nods, shifting so she’s curled against your side, her fingers idly tracing patterns against your arm. “yeah.” a beat passes, then: “i think i wanna do that again. like…a lot.”

you laugh outright at that, tilting your head to press a kiss to her temple. “you really are something else, maclean.”

she hums, pleased, before shifting closer, tucking herself against you like she belongs there. you don’t realize how quiet it’s gotten until lucy is fast asleep in your arms.

[writingonleaves]

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think. 

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it. 

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary. 

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night. 

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date 

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response. 

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere 

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!! 

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week 

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different. 

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away 

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.  

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all 

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously 

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times. 

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently. 

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that. 

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking. 

She doesn’t need to be shaking today. 

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom. 

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender. 

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous. 

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy. 

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area. 

She checks the time. On time. 

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction. 

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan. 

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense. 

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember. 

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced. 

She’s having a really good time. 

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief. 

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her. 

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”) 

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out. 

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that. 

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know. 

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful. 

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her. 

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that. 

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums. 

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly. 

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps. 

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations. 

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to. 

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories. 

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely. 

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better. 

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink. 

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”) 

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him. 

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed. 

And he did. 

Huh.

*****  

The next night, she’s nervous. 

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans. 

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair. 

“Hey.” She says softly. 

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in. 

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road. 

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.” 

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next. 

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name. 

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view. 

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is. 

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out. 

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” 

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?” 

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.” 

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.” 

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.” 

“What makes you think I want casual?” 

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.” 

“You think I’m hot?” 

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.” 

“You can’t? Why not?” 

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“All in?” 

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it. 

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.  

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?” 

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now. 

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted. 

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: You teach Astarion a spell that allows him to speak to animals ... and unleash chaos. From building a bat army, to coaching spiders on how to have sex, there's certainly never a dull moment when it comes to your beloved.

[Astarion x Tav/Reader]

Genres: Romance, humour, fluff, crack.

Warnings: Sexual humour.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

"I've got to hand it to you, darling. You make conversing with common beasts look ever so engaging."

You glanced over at Astarion and smiled. He had volunteered to accompany you on today's hunt, probably to stretch his legs and enjoy the thrill of the chase.

As nonchalant and uncaring as he always seemed, you'd noticed that he'd donned a rakish hunting cap over his curls and exchanged his regular clothing for a leather armour ensemble. Let it never be said that Astarion didn't get into the spirit of things.

Dusting off your knees, you rose to your feet.

"It's ... not always as simple as casting a spell. Each species has its own unique behaviour, traits and dialects. You've got to have a fair understanding of what makes them tick. Offend a squirrel and it may lead you to an owlbear cave instead of buried treasure."

He groaned and clicked his tongue.

"Sounds like a lot of work, if you ask me. I've only ever learned the spells and cantrips that get me out of tough spots."

Considering those words, you watched the small starling you'd recruited flit away through the treetops, ready to begin scouting your path ahead after the promise of some delectable insects.

You turned back to Astarion.

"Now that I think about it, I have heard tales of vampires being able to command beasts."

His expression soured and he waved a hand dismissively.

"Oh, that's plain old domination. All the beasts of the soil and air, at your command. Ravening wolves, infected with bloodlust, ready to tear out your enemies' throats."

Pausing, he shot you a quick look before turning away.

"It's nothing like what you do. You actually ... speak to them. Understand them. You don't try to control them, or treat them with ... cruelty."

Without waiting for your reply, he strode forward through the trees, in the wake of the starling. Staring after him, you felt a telltale surge of tenderness rise in your chest, the kind that you'd been feeling increasingly often in his presence.

Brow furrowing slightly, you hurried after him.

When you did manage to catch up, his equanimity seemed to be restored. Astarion's moods, once you knew him well enough, were positively mercurial.

He slowed down and walked at your side, touch occasionally grazing your wrist. You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it again.

After a few more minutes, you felt his little finger curl briefly around yours, giving a small tug.

"What's got you in such a brown study?"

You turned to him, expression serious.

"Well, I was thinking ... would you like me to teach you the spell for speaking to animals?"

He stopped dead, blinking in surprise.

"Well ... I certainly wouldn't mind. But what's this in aid of? You and Halsin have far more mastery over the skill than I do."

"It doesn't have to be for a specific purpose. Just for you to see what it feels like. You can practice on your own after I teach you the rudiments. And maybe ... then we can speak to animals together?"

You watched him, taking in his reaction.

Astarion was an exceptionally handsome man, there was no denying it. Every facial expression and gesture was an extension of his deadly charm and effortless magnetism.

It was when he looked at you like this, however, gaze trusting and guileless, hesitant, a fleeting radiance in his smile, that your heart raced and you knew, with certainty, that you'd made the right call.

"Hm. I suppose ... I'd like that. Yes. Who knows what I could achieve with a skill like that?"

His tone was flippant, cheerful, but you saw the way his eyes slid away from you, the way the tips of his ears twitched. He looked almost ... bashful.

You placed a handle gently on his arm before resuming your tracking of the starling.

"Good. I think you'd be quite talented at it."

Considering Astarion's usual attitude to such matters, you're surprised by how seriously he takes the matter of learning the simple spell.

He appears one evening at your tent, when most of your other companions have turned in for the night. It had been a fairly relaxed day, one focused on receiving deliveries of goods at camp and making sure that stores of valuable items and potions were replenished.

Astarion seats himself before you, hands placed on his knees, scarlet eyes alert and trained on you.

"Well, darling, here I am, at your disposal. It's time to don the robe of spellmaster and educate little old me."

You grinned back at him.

"Please don't let Gale hear you call me spellmaster."

"Why? It might do him a world of good."

"Right before he comes at me with a certified board exam to prove my credentials. Now, raise your hands. Like this. Perfect. I'll teach you the basic incantation first, then we'll focus on channeling the Weave."

He is a remarkably quick study. His eyes never leave your hands, your lips, your eyes, your gestures as you take him through the process. It's hard not to feel somewhat flustered by such rapt attention. You don't fancy yourself the best teacher, but you do try, for his sake.

When you feel that he's mastered the basics, you clap your hands together and rise.

"Right! It's time to put your skills to the test."

He arches an eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Cast the spell on yourself."

He complies, eyes closing briefly, the thrum of magical power matching yours as you also speak the words and feel the slow shift in your mind. Astarion flexes his fingers, nodding slowly.

"I think I've managed it. So, where do we take the lesson from here?"

Instead of replying, you whistle loudly. Astarion sits bolt upright as the eager patter of paws approaches your tent. Scratch noses his way in, tail wagging furiously as he spots both you and Astrion waiting for him.

"Friend! And Fang Friend! Both here! What are you doing? Do you have something for Scratch? Are you doing magic like wizards?"

You watch in silent fondness as Astarion's eyes grow wider and he leans toward Scratch as if he cannot believe what he hears. His voice is low, hesitant.

"Scratch? I can ... hear you speak now. This feels ... rather odd."

The white-furred head whips in Astarion's direction and Scratch's tail stills for a minute.

"Fang Friend? You can hear me?"

Clearing his throat, Astarion seems to regain some of his composure. He offers Scratch a charming, if superior smile.

"Of course. I've just learned the appropriate spell, thanks to my sweet dove here. So, this is your voice. It does seem ... nice, I suppose."

"Oh, Fang Friend!"

Without further ado, Scratch launches himself at Astarion who lets out a decidedly undignified squawk at his actions.

"Wait! Stop at once! What do you think you're ... why are you slobbering all over ... excuse me!"

"Fang Friend learned to speak, just for me! For Scratch! Oh, great day! Happy day! Fang Friend is the best!"

"I certainly did not learn the spell just for you, you mangy little - "

Astarion pauses, one hand braced on Scratch's probing snout, as your laughter fills the tent. The dog instantly switches his attention to you, pouncing on you in delight.

"Thank you for teaching Fang Friend!"

"It's always a pleasure, Scratch."

Cradling his soft flank against you, you scrub at his belly, causing him to roll over in blissful abandon. Glancing up, you see Astarion watching you with that rare warmth, the kind that kindles his eyes to the soft hue of a sunrise over the sleeping forest.

Of course, it isn't long before Astarion's new knowledge starts to be employed in ... unique and innovative ways. You'd expected it, naturally, but he still manages to surprise, vex and amuse you at every turn.

One one such morning, you turn your tent and its contents upside down searching for your missing boot. Brow creasing in consternation (because you just knew it had been beside your bedroll the night before) you step outside, scanning the ground.

And spot Scratch, standing a few paces away, your boot clasped in his teeth. You frown, puzzled. He's never done that before.

"Scratch? May I have my boot back?"

Instead of complying with his usual obedience, he trots off, pausing at the edge of the clearing to ensure that you follow him. When he is certain that you're on his trail, he darts off into the trees.

Muttering under your breath, you push your feet into the spare pair of sandals you own, wondering what on earth had gotten into the canine.

You catch glimpses of him up ahead on the forest path, and he runs off each time you get close, leading you to something.

Eventually, you hear the rush of water up ahead. It must be the small waterfall where you sometimes go to bathe for a touch more privacy. Stepping out of the foliage, you stop dead in your tracks at the sight which awaits you.

Scratch has paused before the edge of the water, tail wagging happily now that he'd completed his task of luring you out here. Under Astarion's direction of course. That much is obvious.

Lying shirtless and seductively posed on his elbows, the vampire in question regards you with a coy smile from his vantage point on a rock. His pale skin glistens with water, the rivulets running tantalizingly over sculpted pectorals and the ridges of his taut abdomen.

"Oh, look who it is, Scratch. Our darling who'd been far too busy yesterday evening to spend time with us. Isn't it lovely that they're here?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Really, Astarion?"

He sits up, the razor-tipped smile exhibiting no remorse whatsoever.

"Well, you're here now, aren't you? Climb up here. The view is quite splendid."

"We have important things to accomplish today, you know."

"And Shadowheart won't be awake for another half hour. We both know that. Now hush and get up here."

Reluctantly, you clamber up beside him, Scratch following you, your boot still clutched safely between his jaws. Astarion insistently pats the rock surface where he wants you to sit, and you do, your side pressed against his rather damp one.

In spite of his provocative pose, you know that he simply wants companionship, the sweet affection only you can grant him. That much had been established during your conversation in camp, that night after encountering the drow merchant.

He turns to you, nose inches from your cheek, taking you in. You laugh and flush slightly under his intense scrutiny.

"Stop staring."

"I can't."

His voice is low, rough-edged with sincere affection. You turn your head and your lips slot perfectly against his. He draws you in, one arm curled around your waist, kissing you tenderly, softly.

The moment is broken when a furry head butts in between your forms and Scratch drops your boot into your lap.

"Fang Friend said you'd be happy, and you are!"

You lean across and pinch Astarion's side.

"Fang Friend had better watch himself. Abusing the power I've given him already is a risky business."

Surprisingly, Astarion didn't seem to mind Scratch's intrusion. His fingers drift down behind the dog's ears absently, his gaze taking in the waterfall, the sun over the treetops, you.

You decided that the little distraction was worth it, when he looked like this, like an ordinary man enjoying the morning air, the wind tousling his unruly curls, the corners of his eyes and mouth upturned in relaxed amusement.

Speaking with animals certainly had its merits.

The next time he makes use of his newfound power, it's obvious that he's been practicing without your knowledge in order to surprise you.

A convoy of Absolute cultists is making its way towards the main encampment, caravans laden with valuable supplies throwing up a cloud of dust from the road, heavily guarded on all sides.

Squinting out from your vantage point on a rise nearby, you bite your lip. You are heavily outnumbered, and the guards look like no slouches. Attacking head on would be out of the question.

Lae'zel shifts restlessly beside you, but she can clearly tell when strategy takes precedence over brawn. Astarion taps his fingers against the boulder you are crouched behind before a sly smile tugs at his lips.

He glances over at you and signals that he'd like to handle the distraction. You pause, uncertain, but he seems sure of himself, and Astarion never takes unnecessary risks in such perilous situations. Nodding, you watch as he slips into the shadows.

The caravan trundles along, undisturbed, until you begin to hear exclamations at the rear and front. Raising your head over the boulder for a quick look, you can make out many small, dark, darting shapes, pouring in a steady stream from the nearby trees.

They wheel, flap, buffet their wings against the faces of the guards who swing their weapons in wild arcs and hit nothing. Shadowheart turns to you, eyebrows raised.

"Those are bats."

Bats?

But wasn't that-

You had no further time to process that thought, because you'd spotted Astarion. The increasingly dense flock of generally nocturnal creatures had surrounded the entire caravan, preventing his passage from reaching the guards' attention. He cut the lines holding the wagons together, darting back out of sight as the heavy vehicles teetered and pitched backward, rolling down the hill towards the water below.

Shouts and desperate cries from the guards and merchants now reached your ears. They scrambled and tripped, swiping at the bats, trying to stop the passage of the errant wagons.

It was all in vain.

Astarion slipped away, into the shade of the trees once more, while Shadowheart readied the appropriate incantation. She focused, drawing on the weave, freezing the water just below the surface of the river so that the caravans would be submerged, but not so far down as to be unrecoverable.

As the team on the road below stamped, swore and made arrangements to call in assistance from the encampment to help them salavge the goods, bats streamed into the area behind the boulder where your party still remained hidden.

Dark wings took on a more corporeal form, and suddenly, Astarion was with you again. He smirked at your collective expressions.

Keeping your voice low, you hissed incredulously at him.

"How did you manage that? I thought ... that only - "

He completed your sentence, smug.

"That only full vampires could conjure animals like this? You'd be right, sweetheart. I haven't conjured any of these fine fellows."

Lae'zel was now looking supremely confused.

"But they're clearly following your lead, elf."

"Well, that's only because I've been getting to know them quite thoroughly over the past few weeks."

Now you were truly stumped.

"Getting ... to know them?"

"Why, yes! They inhabit a cave nearby. Granted, I've had to wade through my fair share of bat droppings, but it was certainly worth it."

He pointed to the bats that had perched on his shoulders and on the nearby branches.

"This is Balthazar, that's Bella and here's Brissinger. They were the first to approach me. And over here is Hilda, their second cousin, once removed. Here's Gerald, Jarvis and Phillip. They're triplets, would you believe. And this one is Laila. She's awfully shy, but she's partial to berries."

A silence followed this introduction. You coughed slightly.

"Astarion ... did you ... get to know each and every one of these bats? You befriended them?"

"But of course! Isn't that a lot better than commanding them to do what I want? We're all happy acquaintances and they'll help when we're in a pinch."

Shadowheart was staring at him a little less politely.

"And you keep telling me that I'm touched in the head."

Lae'zel snorted.

"Seems like you've found a work-around for vampire powers. Useful, if somewhat laborious."

She peered down towards the road, where the remaining Cultists were slowly trekking further away towards the encampment to obtain the help they'd been speaking about. The smaller guard that remained would be easily dealt with. She patted her sword and grinned.

"We can take them. Let's move."

As she descended the slope, Shadowheart following closely, you turned abruptly to Astarion, gripped him by the collar and pulled him into a swift kiss. One of the bats gave what was, unmistakably, a hoot.

Parting with him, you spied his pleased, if confused expression.

"What was that for, my sweet?"

"For being marvelous."

"Ha! Just wait until you see my bat cave."

After most battles, Astarion could generally be found at his tent, having cleaned up and tended his wounds. It was during these more relaxed evening hours that he would bring out his special spark lantern, burning brightly with a near-blue flame, to illuminate the repairs he effected to his clothes and armour.

Even though you'd assured him that you could afford to replace damaged items, he insisted on darning the torn edges of cloth, mending the split segments of leather, fixing metal plates into position. The activity seemed to provide him some means of relaxation.

When you sought him out, you certainly weren't expecting him to have company. And yet, there it was.

The sound of voices, engaged in what seemed to be a most riveting conversation.

"Well, how very rude of them!"

That was Astarion's voice. The reedy-sounding answer caused you some confusion. You didn't recognise the speaker. 

"Rude! Rude! Rude humans!"

"But you must have done something about it, surely?"

"Pecked holes in all her pumpkins, I did."

"You didn't! How wicked!"

A raucous laugh sounded from within his tent. You sidled closer, now infinitely curious. Astarion was speaking again, tone low and confidential.

"You know, I heard from Titchwittle that she doesn't even maintain the thatching on her roof. All kinds of vermin nesting in there."

"Ooh, he's right! He's right! We won't go near it! It's crawling with nasty things."

"I suspected so. I saw her haggling the life out of the vendors at the market, so one would think her husband's managed to save up enough by now to mend things, but there we go."

"Have you been on any roofs? Ingis said he saw you! Saw you! Sneaking at night!"

"Well, how very perceptive of him. As a matter of fact, we did raid an arms dealer last week. He must have seen me then."

"He did! Ingis did! Said your hair looked like a wet cat's fur in the rain, he did."

Astarion gasped, scandalized.

"He said what?"

"Wet cat! Wet cat!"

"Oh, I'll give Ingis a piece of my mind when I see him next. Who is he to judge? His feathers look as healthy as a zombie's scalp."

Unable to resist the burning curiosity, you pushed the flap of Astarion's tent aside.

There he was, surrounded by the paraphernalia of his sewing kit, the fluorescent light from the lamp illuminating his pale features and the ... companion he was clearly enjoying a fruitful gossip session with.

A raven.

It was perched on a nearby wooden stand, eyes bright and watchful. Astarion looked up at you as you entered, expression mildly outraged.

"Darling, did you hear that? Can you believe someone would call me anything other than beautiful?"

Perhaps, the most memorable occasion during which Astarion had put his animal speaking ability to use had been the time he'd attempted to tutor the spiders.

On the subject of how to have sex.

You'd returned from the city one evening, having purchased some supplies, expecting a hearty meal to sate your ravenous appetite.

What you found instead was a cooling cook pot and Gale hunched over in despair, begging Astarion to stop, please stop, for the love of all things good in the world and didn't he even care about Gale's appetite?

Hands on hips, aspect stern, Astarion was firmly ignoring the wizard's pleas. He rapped the stick he held against one palm.

"Gale, stop your whinging. Just look at them. Such poor form! No finesse, no stamina, a series of anaemic in-and-outs and they're done! How atrocious! This isn't acceptable."

"They're spiders, for the love of - "

"You there! That isn't how you hold your mate! Wrap your legs around her further. Yes, that's it. Now reach. Yesssss. You can do it. Put your back into it, fellow."

"Oh Gods, please, someone make it stop - "

"And you! Do you think I can't see exactly what you're doing? Keep your fangs away from him until he's done. Hells, control yourself. Bite off his head and his pedipalps won't reach your opening, I can tell you that."

Gale's haunted gaze met yours and he hurried over. You tried your best to control your features as he grabbed you by the elbows to steady himself.

"Can you ... do something about this? He's got these... spiders lined up over here doing mating drills."

Patting Gale's arm reassuringly, you made your way over to where Astarion was watching his eight-legged disciples with a critical eye.

He spotted you and beamed, walking over to plant a sweet, searing kiss on your lips. One the spiders couples, having witnessed this, promptly went into overdrive. Astarion tutted fondly at them before wrapping his arm around your waist and gesturing to the spiders arranged before you in ... various stages of copulation.

"I saw a few of them going at it in the woods and darling, I was appalled. No wonder their population is dwindling. Their courtship rituals and mating strategies are deplorable."

"I'm certainly not complaining," muttered Gale, who was busying himself with the stew again to blot out the sight of the writhing arachnids.

You nodded earnestly.

"Oh, I understand. Without balance, an ecosystem cannot function."

Behind you, Gale whipped around, ladle pointing at you accusingly.

"Gods, you're no better than he is."

Astarion took you by the hand and led you closer.

"And now, my sweet, it's time to lavish these ignorant souls with your own knowledge. Go on, tell this one here how it's done."

You knelt and observed the attempts of the much smaller male, scrambling to find purchase on his chosen mate's back. Shaking your head, you raised a hand.

"Now, listen here. Sometimes roles must be reversed during mating. Sometimes one partner must be dominant, and other times, they should switch. Try a new position, maybe with you behind and under, instead of on top. That way, your pedipalps can reach her better."

Astarion clapped his hands, expression positively ecstatic.

"Oh, did you hear that, students? That's my darling for you! Always so perceptive. They knows exactly how to undulate their sweet waist when they're being dominant too - "

Gale had well and truly had enough. He strode over to the two of you, energy crackling along one finger as he pointed it at you like a weapon.

"I'm going to count to three. And this class had better be dismissed by the time I'm done."

Astarion hurriedly scattered his ardent pupils, calling after them.

"Same time next week. But we'll meet in the forest. Wouldn't want any of you getting singed by a certain someone while you're in the throes -"

"Astarion."

"There. They're gone. Not a single trace of them, Gale."

Gallantly offering you his elbow, Astarion escorted you to your tent with an air of wounded dignity. As soon as Gale was out sight, you both collapsed, wheezing with laughter.

"Did you see his - "

"Oh hells, his face."

"And the way he looked when those two spiders really started going at it - "

"Shhhh, he's making stew. And I'm starving. Don't distract him any more!"

Astarion straightened and swayed a little from side to side, expression playfully miffed.

"My treasure, all that teaching has worked up an appetite in me too."

"Come here."

You wrapped your arms around him, cradling him against you. It had been a long day, and you hadn't been with him for most of it. You did miss him, even though you'd only been away for such a relatively short time.

Burying your nose into his shoulder, you spoke, voice slightly muffled.

"First bats, then ravens, and now spiders?"

"I'm a vampire, darling. I must cultivate a certain ... aesthetic."

He bit down gently on the side of your neck, fangs scraping across the surface of the skin.

"But before I drink my fill, you need to eat. As hungry as I am, I can hear your stomach rumbling loud and clear."

You leaned back and regarded him mischievously. 

"Not as hungry as some of your pupils, it seems."

"Oh, they're hungry enough to eat each other, my love. And not in the nice way, either."

The corner of his mouth curved as you laughed, that devastating smile now filled with a warmth that had been glaringly absent when you'd first known him.

How far you both had come, how much faith you'd placed in this blossoming love that somehow continued to raise its delicate head through the crushing weight of peril and conflict.

As with all his endeavours, Astarion had taken your gift and made it his own. Be it gregarious ravens, or lustful spiders, you knew that nature would answer Astarion's call.

How could it not?

It had watched him struggle, despair, overcome and flourish, and if your years in the wild had taught you anything, it was that nature rewarded its most glorious survivors.

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 18

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

I have a question for you guys. How do you guys read Innie? Because I saw someone on TikTok read it as I.N-ie where I've always read it as in-ie, like Jeonginnie. I'm just curious as to how people read it.

Chapter 18

“Are you sure you guys don’t need any help?” Y/n asks as she watches Minho and Felix move around the kitchen making dinner. 

“We’ve got it, baby.” Felix smiles at her before booping her nose causing her to scrunch it up. “Go relax a little.” 

The omega sighs before turning to see where everyone else is. She knows Jisung and Jeongin are out walking in the neighborhood. She then spots Changbin standing outside the back door and walks out to join him. 

“Hey pretty girl.” He smiles looking up from his phone.

“Is that your omega?” A female voice asks from his call.

“Oh, sorry Binnie.” Y/n frowns a little for interrupting his phone call. “I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.” 

“It’s okay baby, it’s just my sister.” He holds his hand out for her to join him. “She’s been wanting to meet you anyways.” 

She takes his hand and he brings her close to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist as she looks at the phone seeing his sister on a video call.

“Hi Y/n, it’s so good to finally meet you.” The older girl beams on the phone. “I’m Jaehee.”

“Hi.” Y/n waves shyly. “I didn’t know Changbin had an older sister.”

“That's just like him, not to mention me.” Jaehee rolls her eyes. “He’s told us a lot about you though. You’re even cuter than he described. Not sure how you ended up with someone like my brother though.” 

“Yah!!” Changbin yells, causing the girl to lean away from him a little at his loud voice. 

“Don’t make the poor girl deaf, Changbinnie.” Jaehee scolds. “God you’re so loud.”

“If I had known you were just going to make fun of me the whole time I wouldn’t have answered your call.” He grumbles causing his sister to laugh.

“I’ll be nice.” Jaehee smiles then looks at the omega through the camera. “So Y/n, how are you liking Jeju Island? Changbin said it’s your first time being there. Do you like our beach house?”

“It’s very beautiful here. And the house is amazing.” Y/n smiles. “I can understand why Jisung and Felix wanted to come here so badly.”

“What have you guys been up to so far?”

“All together we’ve only done a beach day. Though I think we’re all going to the drive-in theatre tonight since Felix and Minho are making an early dinner.” She looks at her mate for confirmation who nods yes. “And they’ve each paired up and have been taking me on dates as proper courting.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” The older female gushes. “What did my brother do for his date?”

“We haven't gone yet. He and Ji are my last date tomorrow.”

“Changbin, you better treat this girl right on your guys date tomorrow.” She scolds. “I expect princess treatment, you hear me?”

“Trust me, all she knows at this point is princess treatment.” The alpha defends making the girl next to him blush as he pulls her closer to him and nuzzles her cheek.

“Y/n, if he ever does anything to upset you, call me okay?”

“Will do, Jaehee.”

“So what did the others do for your dates?” Jaehee places her chin in her hand. 

“Chan and Seungmin took me to some shops to get a swimsuit and we got desserts.” Y/n smiles as she thinks about her dates. “Felix and Jeongin took me to a gaming cafe and Minho and Hyunjin took me to the farmers market and craft fair.”

“Ooh Changbinnie, you’ve got some competition.” 

“It isn’t about which pair takes her on a better date Jaehee.” Changbin looks annoyed with his sister now. “This trip is about all of us bonding and getting to know our girl better.”

“Alright, alright.” She puts her hands up in surrender. “I’ll stop being a pest and let you guys go. Have fun on the rest of your vacation. And Y/n, we’ll have to figure out sometime when you and Changbin can come over to our parents so we can meet in person.”

“Sounds good.” The omega smiles. “I know we’ll have to figure that out for everyone's families.”

“Tell everyone else I said hi. And we’ll talk again soon.”

“Bye.” Y/n and Changbin say at the same time before hanging up the video call. 

“Sorry about her, pretty girl.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I like her.” Y/n smiles up at him. “I can’t wait to meet her and your parents in person.”

“We’ll definitely have to figure out with everyone when we can finally introduce you to all of our families.” 

“Do you think all of your guy’s family will like me?” The omega scent starts to sour as she starts to get into her head.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” He places a finger under her chin to lift her head up so they are making eye contact. “Our families will love you. They’ll have no reasons not to.”

“You sure?” 

“I’m positive.”

“Dinners ready.” Jeongin pokes his head out from the sliding glass door but then frowns when he sees the alpha and omega. “Jagiya, you okay?”

“She’s good, pup.” Changbin grabs her hand and leads her into the house and ruffles his hair as they walk past. “Let's eat so we can get ready to head out.”

Minho and Felix place the last of the food on the table as they all start taking seats. Jeongin quickly takes one of the seats next to Y/n. He’s been worried about her since she had asked him to help her slip into subspace, hovering around her a little more. 

“So there are two movies playing tonight.” Chan says as everyone starts eating. “One screen will be playing Jurassic World. And the other screen will be playing Five Feet Apart.”

“We have to see Five Feet Apart.” Felix sits up straight, eyes wide with excitement. 

“Isn’t it a sad sappy movie?” Seungmin scrunches his nose. “At least Jurassic World has action.”

“Like always, we’ll put it to a vote.” Changbin eyes the two in warning not to start arguing. “If you want to see Jurassic World, raise your hand.” Changbin raises his hand along with Seungmin, Jeongin and Chan. “And Five Feet Apart.” Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Minho raise theirs.

“Y/n, you didn’t vote.” Chan looks at her with a frown. 

“Why do I have to be the one to decide?” She looks at all of them, scared that depending on which one she picks, the four who picked the other movie will be upset and grouchy the whole time. 

“You get to have a choice in this too, babygirl.”

“And now that we have nine people we actually have a better voting system unlike before.” Jeongin places his hand on her thigh. “We would have so many ties with there being an even number of us that we would have to flip a coin to decide most of the time.”

“What if we see both?” She mumbles not looking at any of them. “We’re already planning to take two of the three cars right? So everyone that wants to see Jurassic world goes in one and everyone who wants to see Five Feet Apart goes in the other and everyone is happy.”

“No we’re not.” Minho shakes his head. “We’re supposed to be doing this as a pack, so we all see one movie, not split up to see different ones, it’s not how it works.”

“But I don’t want anyone who was wanting to see the other movie than the one I pick be upset and unhappy the whole time.”

“That won’t happen, pup, I promise.” Seungmin gives her a reassuring smile. “As long as we’re all together we’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, the plan is to put all the pillows and blankets in the bed of the trunk and we all get in it to watch the movie and cuddle.” Jisung smiles brightly, already excited for what's to come. 

“So which do you pick, princess?” Hyunjin folds his hands together and rests his chin on them while waiting for her answer.

“Ummm…” She looks at all of them for a moment before taking a deep breath reminding herself that she actually has a say in things now and that no one will be upset with her for what she chooses. “I wanna see Five Feet Apart if that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay.” Changbins eyes soften at her. “Five votes for it makes it the winner.”

“Yes.” Felix and Jisung high five each other. 

“Kitten, why don’t you go change into something comfier and grab whatever extra pillows and blankets are in the closest that we can set up in the bed of the truck.” Minho stands up to start cleaning. “We’ll get everything cleaned up so we can head on out as quickly as possible.”

“Okay.” The omega stands and quickly goes to her room to change as she hears the sounds of plates and dishes being handled. 

“Why’d you send her off like that?” Jisung frowns as Minho takes his and Felix’s plates. “I thought what she was wearing was just fine.”

“Because I wanted your guys' opinions on something I had bought at the craft fair.” Minho places the plates in the sink before pulling the collar with the amethyst compass rose pendant out of his pocket showing it to all of them.

“Is that?” Chan moves closer to look at it while everyone sits there gapping at it. 

“The booth was run by a nice alpha and omega couple, everything is handmade.” Minho gives Chan the collar so he can look at it and they can all pass it around. “I just felt that the compass rose was a good symbol for us and the omega said that amethysts is a symbol of faithful loves and a popular choice for those seeking a soulmate. Or something like that.” 

“I think you put more thought into this than you did for my collar.” Felix says as he looks at the pendant. 

“Lixie, you were determined to pick out your own collar, you didn’t give us a choice.” Chan nudges the omega.

“Because I’m picky with what I wear.” Felix pouts, handing the collar to Jisung before placing his hand on his own collar around his neck. “But I do love mine and I think Y/n will love this one.”

“So is this the one we’re gonna collar her with?” Hyunjin admires the pendant. 

“Does everyone agree?” Chan asks and they all nod in excitement.

“I think it’s perfect.” Changbin hands the collar back to Minho.

“Chan, as pack alpha it’s only right that you give it to her.” He hands it back to the oldest male.

“But you were the one who found it.”

“And Felix found his own collar but you were still the one to collar him.” Jeongin speaks up.

“We all agree as pack alpha you should do it, Channie.” Seungmin forces him to fold his fingers around the collar before moving his hand to his pocket. 

“I’ll do it tonight while we’re all in the bed of the truck. That way everyone is there.” Chan nods as he places it safely in his pocket. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Felix, Y/n and Jisung move around the bed of the truck situating the pillows and blankets almost making a form of nest for everyone. Chan and Jeongin watch over the three of them as Minho, Changbin, Seungmin and Hyunjin went to the snack bar to get drinks and snacks. The second car is parked right next to the truck, the trunk open, back seats down and also set up with some blankets and pillows in case anyone gets too cold and wants to move inside the vehicle. 

“You guys are just so cute.” Jeongin gawks at them which results in him getting hit in the head with a pillow by Jisung gaining a laugh from the omegas.

Jeongin grunts and his eyes show that he’s about to put the beta in his place but Chan stops the young alpha. “Not in public, Innie.”

“But hyung, he started it.” 

“Don’t give me that tone, pup.” Chan asserts his dominance causing Jeongin to pout a little, making Jisung laugh. “Ji, you have no room to laugh, you did start it, don’t push it.”

“Alright, we���re done.” Felix announces hoping to defuse the situation between the three of them.

“And just in time.” Changbin calls out as he rounds the truck holding popcorn and a drink carrier, Minho, Hyunjin and Seungmin following behind with more drink carriers and popcorn or candy. “We’ve got the food.”

Jeongin gets in the truck and takes the food from them to place around. Felix and Jisung claim a corner of the truck and start cuddling as Minho gets into the bed of the truck and grabs their snacks and drinks, handing it to them. Changbin and Chan help Seungmin and Hyunjin get up into the truck before climbing up themselves.

Chan moves over near the two already cuddling and pulls Y/n along so she can lay against him. Hyunjin follows wanting cuddles from his alpha too. Changbin sits down before manhandling Seungmin into his lap and the beta allows it. And Minho moves over to pull Jeongin to him from where he’s kneeled, still watching the female omega like he’s been doing since their date. 

“She’s okay, pup, relax.” Minho whispers into the youngest alphas hair as he’s pulled to his chest. “I’m proud of you for being observant of her but you’re hovering too much. Has she seemed to be actining any differently or on edge, more than normal?”

“No.” Jeongin shakes his head.

“Exactly. I know we were all worried because of her asking you to scent her into subspace but I genuinely think she was just wanting to experience it after she and Felix talked about it.” Minho reassures him. “You should be proud that she trusts you to do that for her. Be happy, okay.”

“Hey, babygirl, we’ve got something for you.” Chan says pushing on Y/n and Hyunjin a little so he can sit up.

The omega looks at him confused before looking at everyone else who are watching with excitement before turning back to Chan as he pulls something out of his pocket. Her eyes widen as she gasps when she sees the pendant necklace.

“Is that?” She covers her mouth in disbelief.

“We want to collar you if you’ll let us.” Chan smiles at her, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “Even though we all haven’t claimed you yet, we wanted something to show to you that we’ll be yours forever.”

“We know that not all omegas enjoy being collared, and it’s okay if you don’t want to be.” Hyunjin speaks up when she still hasn’t said anything. 

“But we still wanted to give you one just like we did with Felix when he came out to us.” Changbin explains and Y/n looks over at the other omega and he shows off his collar he’s wearing. 

She takes it from Chan to get a closer look. “It’s beautiful.”

“Minho hyung picked it out.” Jisung nudges her leg with his foot and the girl looks over at the second oldest alpha whose ears are burning red. 

“I felt that the compass rose was a good representation of how we came to be.” The alpha watches her lovingly. “We were lost without you, you were lost on your own, and we managed to find each other, as if you were meant to run out of gas at that park because your true north was there or something.”

“Hyung, you’re getting sappy on us.” Seungmins groans, gaining a pinch to the side from Changbin who's still holding the beta in his lap. 

Y/n starts to tear up and she quickly wipes her cheeks. “I love you guys.” She finally admits to all of them, her lip still trembling a little with overwhelming emotions, and her tears just keep coming.

She gets a chorus of “we love you too” as they all sit up to give her a group hug and they tell her not to cry. 

“It’s happy tears.” She tries to laugh a little as they all hold her. When they all eventually pull away, she turns to Chan and gives him the collar. “Can you help me put it on?”

“Of course baby girl.” He kneels behind her and puts it around her neck as she holds her hair out of the way. 

Once it's clasped in place she puts her hand over it and smiles before showing it off, everyone admiring her. They all still can’t believe that the beautiful omega in front of them is theirs.

______________________________________________________________

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[thenickgirl]

TOO HOT

nick x oc!jalen

requested? yes

type: one shot ❀ genre: smut ❀ pov: third ❀ wc: 1.4K

pairing: top!nick x bottom!jalen (don’t say shit, it was a request)

summary: in which things get interesting during game night

warnings: established relationship, swearing, oral and anal sex

a/n: so basically i saw this on pinterest and thought it would be fun. jay, i hope you enjoy this, sorry it took so long. happy reading! ❀

“YOU CHEATED!! YOU TOOK A SHORTCUT!” Nick screamed, setting the controller down on the table in front of him.

“WHAT?? NO I DIDN'T!” Jalen says in defense, mimicking Nick’s actions, before leaning back on the couch.

Nick scoffs, rolling his eyes in annoyance, “I DIDN'T SEE YOU THE ENTIRE TIME, J, AND SUDDENLY YOU'RE AT THE FINISH LINE?? CHEATERRRR!” he yells, a smile threatening to form.

The sound of thunder crashed in the background of the couple’s light hearted bickering. It was storming, and the rain was coming down heavily, so instead of going out for their date like they had originally planned, they stayed inside. Jalen suggested that they should have a little game night, and Nick loves a competition.

They were competing to see who could win the most games throughout the night. Currently, the score was 2-2, Jalen securing his second win with this round of Mario Kart.

“You’re cracked,” Jalen laughs, shaking his head as he looks over at his boyfriend who was now laughing along with him.

“Whatever,” Nick huffs, grabbing his phone off of the table. “I’ll find something else to play that will guarantee me a win,” he says as he scrolls through his phone, going from app to app.

“You’re such a sore loser, peach” Jalen laughs as he watches Nick concentrate on finding something, before quickly being shushed by him.

A devious grin spread across Nick’s face as he saw it. Something that would turn the tables on this impromptu game night.

“Look it!” He commands as he leans over to show his phone to Jalen, who glances at it before grinning himself.

“I thought you were finding games you could win,” Jalen chuckles while shaking his head.

Nick frowned at Jalen’s reaction, “And I did,” he replied confidently.

“You seriously think you could hold out longer than me?” Jalen questions, his brow raised in disbelief.

“A hundred percent,” Nick says with certainty, followed by a shrug.

Jalen shakes his head, scooting closer to Nick, his face inches away from him, “I don’t think you could,” he challenges, his eyes glancing at Nick’s lips before meeting his blue eyes again.

“Try me,” Nick responds, his lips brushing against his boyfriend’s as he spoke, and before he knew it, Jalen closed the space between them, kissing him.

Nick kisses back, deepening it, his fist clenching onto the soft material of the couch so as to not touch Jalen, despite how desperately he wanted to. Jalen’s tongue brushes along Nick’s lip, begging for access, and he gains it when Nick moans into his mouth.

The pair make out for what seems like hours, their lips smack together as they whimper and groan. Both growing more and more eager to touch one another, but neither willing to lose.

Nick was close to caving, so he knew he had to do something to get Jalen to cave first. Without warning, Nick hooked his teeth into Jalen’s bottom lip, knowing how much he loved it, and his boyfriend fell right into his trap. Jalen moaned, grabbing Nick's face in hands, drawing him in.

Nick immediately towers over Jalen, grabbing his hands and pinning him down on the couch as he breaks the kiss, a devilish grin plastered on his face when he leaned in and whispered, “You lose.”

Jalen let out a small gasp from the switch, “That’s not fair! You bit my lip!!” He exclaimed in defense of his actions.

“All’s fair in love and war, baby,” Nick says before swiftly pulling Jalen up and over his shoulder, carrying him to their shared bedroom, and tossing him onto the bed, yet careful not to hurt him.

The pitter patter of the rain hitting the roof, and the thudding sound of Jalen’s heart in his chest was the only thing heard as Nick stared down at him, biting his lip. “If I recall correctly…” he pauses, licking his lips. “I get to do what I want,” he states, grabbing Jalen’s chin making him look at him, his thumb running across his bottom lip.

“I guess so,” Jalen says, looking up at the brunette, the dominance evident in his piercing blue eyes.

Nick grins again, “Get up on the bed,” he commands, and Jalen complies, going up towards the middle of the bed. Nick follows suit, his body floating over him as he kisses him hungrily. Nick’s hands roam Jalen’s body as he moans into his mouth, and he swallows them down. He breaks the kiss, chuckling as Jalen chases his lips.

He then strips them both of their clothes, leaving them only in boxers as he hovers over the dread head. Nick’s lips trail from Jalen’s chest down his abdomen, and his breathing labored. He goes further down, running his tongue along the waistband of Jalen’s boxers before pulling them off, and his length springs free. He licks around the tip, then takes him into his mouth, and Jalen’s head falls back.

“Fuck…” Jalen whispered, sitting up on his elbows as he looked down at Nick.

Nick works Jalen’s cock with his mouth, his head bobbing up and down, as Jalen moans uncontrollably, his hand guiding Nick’s movements. After several minutes, Nick pulls off of him with a ‘pop’. He reaches over to the night stand, grabbing lubricant and squeezing it on his fingertips. With his long slick fingers, he intrudes Jalen hole, spreading and curling them. He takes his time working him open, the squelching sound and his boyfriend’s moans making his own cock twitch as a growl escapes his throat.

“Think you can take me, baby?” Nick asks, his fingers still pumping in and out of him slowly, and Jalen just nods in response.

He hums as he removes his hand from Jalen’s body, then gets up to take off his boxers, before hovering over Jalen again as he kisses along his jaw.

“On your tummy,” he whispers in Jalen’s ear and a shiver runs down his spine. Jalen turns over, laying flat on his stomach, and Nick uses his knees to spread his legs open wider. He presses his length against Jalen’s sopping hole before sliding all the way in.

Jalen moans softly when Nick bottoms out, “So fucking tight,” Nick groans as he sets a steady rhythm.

His hips snap against Jalen’s ass hard as he fucks him into the mattress. The sound of their moans and the bed creaking creates a perfect harmony around them.

“Yes! Mm, you like fuckin’ this tight little hole, don’t you? Such a slut for it, so eager to fill me up,” Jalen moaned while looking back at Nick, his eyes threatening to roll back as Nick picked up his pace.

With one hand he grabs a fist full of Jalen’s hair, pulling so hard it lifts him slightly off the bed, while the other slaps his ass cheek repeatedly.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Nick threatened, deepening his thrusts as Jalen whimpered.

With each stroke Nick’s length brushed against that sensitive spot inside of him, and his body shook. “Shit, Nick…” Jalen moaned, his fingers tangling in the sheets as Nick fucked him relentlessly.

“That mouth of yours isn’t so smart now, is it? Hm?” Nick grunts, as he lets go of Jalen’s hair and he falls against the mattress.

“I-Nnngh, fuck, don’t stop,” Jalen whimpered, his face buried in sheets as he moaned over and over.

The couple's sweat covered bodies continued to mold together as the storm passed. That familiar feeling begin to rise inside of Jalen, and he cried out, “Oh fuck, I’m so close” he warns.

Nick flips Jalen onto his back, wanting to see his face as he comes for him. Jalen’s back arched off of the bed, as he reaches his peak, his body shuddering as he teeters towards the edge.

“I-…Fuckkk,” Jalen moans as he comes over himself, his mouth opened slightly and his eyes rolled back, the sight causing Nick’s release to hit him as well, his hips beginning to stutter.

“Shit shit shit,” Nick groans as he comes inside of him, before collapsing atop of him. They both pant, catching their breaths as they come down from their high.

“Damn, I should let you top more often,” Jalen chuckles as he kisses the top of Nick’s head.

Nick giggles as he rolls off of him, pulling Jalen to his side, as Jalen rests his head on his chest. “Why ruin a good system?” Nick says while shrugging, and they both laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” Jalen says, stealing one of Nick’s most infamous lines, his fingers tracing the stars on Nick’s shoulder.

The soft touch sends a shiver down Nick's spine as he pulls Jalen impossibly closer. He leans his head down before whispering…

“I’m a winner.”

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ❀

a/n: chat this will be the last smut for a little while, i’m just not into right now at all. also, got some really cute things planned, so stay tuned. i love youuuu 🩷

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @sturniolossss @sturniioloslut @ameerahsblog @freshloveee @asherrisrandom @dumbf2ck @maliaforstvrns @nicksbestie @emely9274 @marrykisskilled @ksturnz @colorthecosmos444 @tyummyz @idrk2292 @soursturniolo @nickssidewitch

[madthetruemad]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 19 | Not As It Seems

You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey?!

Fic Masterlist

You were as stiff as a board as you laid next to Jing Yuan in your bed. His arms were around your waist and his face was pushed up into your neck, his breath tickling your skin with every puff of air that left his mouth, “you’re so tense.”

I wonder why, you thought as your mind wandered back to the dead maid who was probably still in his room.

“I just… I guess I’m scared,” you decided to test the waters with being truthful. He’s been lenient with you so far after all.

“Scared?”

“Scared of you,” your voice was soft as your words carried through the darkness of your room.

“Why?”

“Because… I feel like you’re going to kill me too.”

You felt one of his arms leave your waist. His hand sliding up your form before it found a strand of your hair and he started to twirl it about his finger.

“I might one day,” his voice echoed, “it was tempting to do so when you first got here.”

“Then why not do it?”

He already did the other times, is me having amnesia really stopping him this time? A part of you had to know despite how dangerous it was. Would Sunday even help you this time? You haven’t exactly been on the best of terms…

“Because…the other times I did…it was like ripping my own heart out.”

Other… times? But how…?

“What do you…?”

You felt him gently kiss your neck, “sleep, don’t mind my words, I’m just… joking.”

You don’t know when you fell asleep. All you do know is that when you closed your eyes was that you were going to search for answers. Wherever those answers may be.

The next morning when you woke up, Jing Yuan was still next to you, and you found yourself turned around so now that you were facing him and truth be told your dreams were turbulent, nightmarish. You still feel so tired especially from what Jing Yuan revealed the night before.

You need to talk to Sunday, but not while he is in here with you.

Speaking of which…

He looked quite peaceful while he was sleeping.

Slowly, you brought your hand up, your fingers were gentle as they ran along his cheeks, his nose, his lips, his forehead, down his jawline. He was so beautiful, but so dangerous all the same.

How does he remember those lives? Was he saying all that to get a rise out of me? A reaction? Was he hoping my mask would slip?

“Is my face that interesting to you?”

Your eyes met his and you smiled, “mmm, you’re very beautiful.”

He chuckled softly as he sat up in your bed and swung his legs over the side. His warmth no longer surrounded you and you were tempted to pull him back in. Maybe I can ask him about what he meant last night?

“Princess.”

“Y- yes?”

“Come to the training grounds later.”

“Why?”

He grinned at you.

“A- alright…”

Before he got up, he motioned for you to come over, deciding that it would be best to listen to him, you sat up in the bed too and crawled over and just as you got close enough he had wrapped his arm around your neck and tugged you forward in order to hold you still. You were about to say something to him when you felt his lips on yours. His mouth perfectly slotting against your own as he kept you there easily before letting you go and standing up.

“See you later, Princess.”

“Bye, Yuan,” you managed to mumble out as you still felt the heat of his lips on yours when he left the room.

“You’re looking quite dazed,” Sunday said.

His immediate appearance caused your brow to furrow as you got out of bed too.

“What did Jing Yuan mean last night?”

You cut right to the chase, you were tired of Sunday’s hidden intentions and lackluster explanations. You were going to get answers, and if he wasn’t going to tell you than you planned to ask the Emperor.

“The emperor is quite troublesome it seems. He’s always one step ahead…”

“Quit stalling.”

Sunday smirked at you.

“I lied.”

“Obviously,” you scoffed.

“I wasn’t the one turning back time, Jing Yuan was.”

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[asterafroditis]

Ur writing is so nice! Could I request Leona x reader, hurt/comfort? Whatever comes to ur mind! ^_^

𐔌 . ⋮ second to none .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Leona Kingscholar x gn! reader

𓏵 849 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, no pronouns used, angst, hurt/comfort

yayyy, first request done (๑°ㅁ°๑)‼✧ feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Leona knew better than to let himself care. Caring led to expectations. Expectations led to disappointment. He’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

And yet—here you were. Again.

Sitting beside him in the dim glow of the Botanical Garden, unbothered by his sour mood, by the way he kept his back turned to you like a wounded animal trying to hide its injuries. You didn’t prod, didn’t push—you just sat there.

That made it worse.

"Kifaji again?" you finally asked, voice careful but not hesitant.

Leona scoffed, running a hand through his tangled mane. "What else is new?" His tail flicked sharply against the grass, irritation rolling off him in waves. "‘Prince Leona, you must do this. Prince Leona, your duty is to your kingdom.’ Blah, blah, blah—what a joke."

"It’s not fair that they treat you like that."

He let out a bitter chuckle. "Fair? Oh, don’t gimme that. You’re smart enough to know the world doesn’t give a damn about ‘fair.’" He finally looked at you, and for a second, the weight of his exhaustion nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. "And neither should you."

You frowned, leaning closer. "Leona—"

"No. Don't start." His voice dropped lower, rougher, like the walls he’d spent years fortifying were beginning to crack. "I know what you're gonna say. That I’m ‘more than just a second prince.’ That I ‘deserve more credit.’ That I should ‘believe in myself’ or some other feel-good nonsense." His jaw tightened. "I know all that. And it doesn’t matter."

You stared at him, your chest tightening at the sheer resentment in his voice—not towards you, but towards himself.

"Why doesn’t it matter?" you asked softly.

Leona clenched his fists, looking away. "Because nothing I do will ever be enough. I could be the strongest magic user in the kingdom, the best strategist they’ve ever seen—but at the end of the day, I’ll still just be the second-born. The ‘spare.’" His voice wavered, but he swallowed it down, forcing a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "If I can’t change that, then why the hell should I bother?"

You inhaled sharply, feeling your heart twist.

This wasn’t just bitterness. This was defeat.

He had already convinced himself that he would never be worth as much as his brother. That his best would never be good enough.

And the worst part? He wasn’t wrong—not in the eyes of his kingdom.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t wrong to you.

"Leona." Your voice was quiet but firm. He still wouldn't look at you, but he didn’t pull away when you reached for his hand, fingers gently brushing against his calloused skin.

"You’re right," you admitted. His ear twitched, but he stayed silent. "You can’t change how your kingdom sees you. You can’t change the fact that you’re the second prince. But that doesn’t mean you’re worthless."

His grip tensed, knuckles white. "Tch. That’s easy for you to say."

You held onto him tighter, rubbing your thumb over the rough skin of his palm, grounding him in the moment. "Maybe. But I mean it."

The night air was thick with the weight of his silence. His breathing was shallow, controlled—like he was forcing himself not to let your words sink in.

Like he was afraid of believing them.

Your free hand moved without thinking, fingertips ghosting over his knuckles, lingering in a way that felt too intimate to be casual. You could feel his pulse, steady yet tense beneath your touch.

"I wish you saw yourself the way I see you," you murmured.

A flicker of something passed through his sharp emerald eyes—something unreadable, something dangerous.

Leona was always good at pushing people away before they got too close, but this—this was different.

"And how do you see me?" His voice was quieter now, almost wary.

You hesitated for a moment, then tightened your grip on his hand.

"I see someone who’s brilliant. Strategic. Strong." Your voice softened. "Someone who doesn’t just follow the path set for him, but carves his own, even if no one else understands it."

Leona let out a slow exhale, shaking his head. "Doesn’t change the fact that it’s a path to nowhere."

"Then I'll walk it with you."

That made him pause.

You bit your lip, then continued, voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "You keep acting like you have to prove yourself to people who refuse to see your worth. Like you have to do everything alone." You sighed. "But I see you, Leona. And I’ll keep seeing you, whether you want me to or not."

He stared at you, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a huff, he looked away, running a hand down his face. "You’re too stubborn, y’know that?"

You smiled faintly. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

He scoffed. His tail flicked against the grass, irritation laced in the movement, but his fingers curled more securely around yours. Holding on like he wasn’t sure how else to keep himself standing.

Like maybe, just maybe, he wanted to believe you.

And for now, that was enough.