#there there have som alcohol

[itsdappleagain]

personal vent time!

i HATE this fucking post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[imadecoy666]

One more shot please! what time is it for you btw already night time?

i startted suped late an i fell aaleep at the table dor a couple hours sooo... mm ... guess now m day drinkinn hheehehe ~

m feelin so good but its.. its now mornin time which iss fine but ye..

[chosok-amo]

hi! i really love your satosugu series so muchhhh! i hope you don't mind me making a request here ☺️ would you make it where they go to the club but someone trying to hitting on you and you want to go to the beach after? pleaseeee I will love you more if you do, thank you so much 💝☺️

IDIOTS AND SEAWEED : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

your two boyfriends got too protective over you, so what's better than to give them a little bit of seaweed and salt water?

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fluff, slightly injured ( reader ), blood, overprotective.

wc. 8,1k | m.list

i'm not really happy with how this turns out but i hope you still be able to enjoy it ☺️

the club was buzzing with energy, the bass thumping through the floor as you moved with shoko, grinding at each other, the two of you lost in the rhythm of the music. laughter spilled from your lips as you took a sip from your drink, the alcohol making everything feel a little lighter, a little more carefree. shoko mirrored your grin, her hair swinging as she danced beside you, both of you having the time of your lives.

your eyes flicked over to where your boyfriends were standing with nanami and yuu haibara. they were watching you with a mix of amusement and something else that made your heart race a little faster. suguru was leaning against the bar, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving you. satoru, on the other hand, had that playful grin on his face, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses as he exchanged a look with suguru.

nanami was his usual composed self, though there was a hint of a smile as he watched the two of you having fun. yuu haibara, ever the enthusiastic one, looked like he wanted to join in on the dance floor any minute.

you winked at suguru and satoru, knowing full well the effect it would have on them. satoru rolled his eyes playfully, but the smile on his face widened, while suguru just shook his head slightly, that smirk still firmly in place. you couldn’t help but laugh, the sight of their reactions only adding to your good mood.

suguru's eyes darkened as he watched you and shoko dance together, the way you moved against each other driving him crazy. satoru, who was standing next to him, noticed the change in his expression and chuckled quietly. he knew exactly what was going through suguru's mind, but he wasn't about to let his partner have all the fun.

“enjoying the view, suguru?” satoru said, a teasing edge to his voice as he took a sip from his own drink. “shut up,” suguru muttered, his eyes still fixed on you. as the hours passed, the atmosphere in the club became even more electric. the dance floor was filled with people, all of them lost in the music and the thrill of the night. you were dancing with shoko, your body moving in sync to the beat, when you felt a pair of hands on your hips.

you froze for a split second, your heart skipping a beat as you registered the unfamiliar touch on your hips. turning around, you were met with the sight of a man you didn’t recognize, his grin far too confident for your liking. his hand lingered on your waist as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “having fun?” he asked, his voice dripping with a sultriness that made your skin crawl.

your eyes narrowed as you took a small step back, putting some distance between you. “get your hand off me,” you said, your voice filled with annoyance, cutting through the music and the man's smug expression. he blinked, clearly taken aback by your response. his grin faltered for a moment, but he didn’t move, his hand still resting on your hip as if he hadn’t heard you correctly.

“i said,” you repeated, your tone even sharper now, “get. your. hand. off.” the man's expression hardened at your words, his grip on your hip unconsciously tightening as he tried to keep his cool. “hey, don't be like that,” he protested, his tone now laced with a hint of annoyance. “i'm just trying to have some fun, no need to be so uptight.”

he took a step closer to you, his body press against yours, his breath now coming in short puffs. his free hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “come on, relax a little.”

your eyes narrowed, any hint of patience you might have had vanishing in an instant. the tightening grip on your hip and his fingers on your chin only fueled the anger simmering inside you.

“i said,” you began, your voice icy, “get your filthy hands off me.”

you slapped his hand away from your chin with a sharp motion, not caring if it stung, your glare piercing right through him. you took a deliberate step back, putting as much space as possible between you and the creep, the disgust evident on your face.

“are you dumb?” you spat, your tone dripping with disdain, "did you seriously think that grabbing me like some desperate loser would get you anywhere? you're pathetic.”

his face twisted in anger, but before he could say anything, you cut him off, your voice rising above the thumping music, “you must be so fucking thick that your brain can even understand a simple words like taking your hands off me.”

the man's eyes flared with anger as you tore into him, your words stabbing into him like a thousand tiny knives. no woman had ever spoken to him like this before, and the shock of it was almost palpable. his face contorted into a twisted snarl as he clenched his fists, his own anger now boiling over.

“how dare you speak to me like that,” he snarled, taking a step forward, his body tense like a coiled spring, “you think you're better than me, don't you? you think you can just talk to me like that?”

a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched his face contort with rage. his anger only fueled your amusement, and you couldn't resist the urge to mock him further.

“uh-oh,” you said in a mocking tone, raising an eyebrow, “i think i can, and i just did.” your words hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to do something about it. his fists clenched tighter, and for a moment, it seemed like he might actually lose control.

the man's chest was heaving, his breath coming in ragged puffs as your words dug under his skin like a hot poker. he was barely holding himself back from pouncing on you right there, his eyes darkening with a barely controlled rage, the veins on his face popping out from the tension.

“watch your mouth,” he seethed, his voice low and dangerous. “you think you're tough, but i could have you begging for mercy in an instant,” he took another step forward, his body now looming over you. a slow, mocking grin spread across your face as you saw how close he was to losing it. you brought your hands together, pretending to pout in exaggerated fear.

“oh, i’m scared,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. you even added a little tremor for effect, fanning yourself dramatically, “everyone, i’m scared.”

you turned your head slightly, as if looking for someone in the crowd who might care, your expression the picture of fake concern. then you looked back at him, batting your lashes in mock submission. “please,” you continued, your tone now laced with a taunting edge, “show me some mercy.”

your words cut through the air, sharp and humiliating, and the crowd around you began to notice the scene unfolding. a few people even chuckled, the sound only fueling the man’s frustration. his face turned a dangerous shade of red, his fists trembling as he struggled to keep control.

the man’s face flushed crimson with embarrassment and fury as the words registered in his mind. the people around them had started to stop and watch the scene unfold, a few even laughing at your mocking response.

he could feel the heat rise up his neck, spreading to his face as the humiliation set in. nobody had ever dared to treat him like this, much less a woman. he took another step forward, his body nearly trembling with his barely concealed anger. “you… you…,” he stuttered, the words failing him in the face of your unrelenting mockery.

you couldn't help but laugh, along with shoko behind you, the sound light and condescending as the man struggled to find his words. his face was a blotchy mix of red and white, his frustration palpable, and you decided to twist the knife just a little more.

“you… you… what?” you mimicked his stutter with exaggerated concern, tilting your head and widening your eyes in mock sympathy. “aw, are you having trouble finding your words? poor thing.”

you crossed your arms, tapping your fingers against your bicep as if waiting for him to come up with something worthwhile to say. the crowd around you snickered, clearly entertained by the spectacle, and the man's face only grew redder with every passing second.

“come on now,” you continued, your voice dripping with mock encouragement, “use your big-boy words. surely you can do better than that.” from the corner of your eye, you could see suguru and satoru watching from the bar, their expressions a mix of amusement and pride. they were ready to jump in if things escalated, but for now, they were enjoying the show, confident in your ability to handle the situation.

the man's fists trembled now, the tension in his body so taut it was a miracle he didn't explode right there on the spot. the people around him were now openly laughing at the display, their mockery adding fuel to the fire. he glanced at them, his face twisting in frustration, and back to you.

“don't... don't make fun of me!” he finally managed to say, his voice quivering with rage, “you... you think you're so damn funny. you think you're special.” you couldn't hold back a burst of laughter at his pitiful attempt to regain control. his trembling voice, the way he stuttered through his words—it was all too amusing.

“mememe,” you mimicked, your tone high-pitched and mocking as you made a childish face, mimicking a whiny tone. you then let out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying how much you were getting under his skin.

the crowd around you erupted into more laughter, some even mimicking your mocking tone, further humiliating the man. his face flushed an even deeper shade of red, his fists clenching tighter as his body shook with barely contained rage. “oh, i think i’m hilarious,” you said, still laughing, wiping a fake tear from your eye, “and special? absolutely. thanks for noticing.”

as the crowd's laughter grew louder, his anger seemed to reach its breaking point. but before he could do something reckless, you saw suguru and satoru moving closer from the bar, their expressions a mix of amusement and protective instinct. satoru’s voice cut through the noise, light and teasing. “oh, she’s definitely special. now, if you’re done embarrassing yourself, i suggest you walk away.”

the man's eye's flicked to suguru and satoru, his body going tense as they approached. he looked back at you, his face a picture of humiliated fury, before spitting on the floor at your feet. “like i'd walk away just because you said so,” he said, his voice trembling with anger, “she's just a woman. i'll do what i want.” suguru's expression darkened at the man's words, his hand moving to your hip as a clear warning. 

“watch your mouth,” suguru growled, his voice low and dangerous. “you don't want to make this any worse for yourself.” the man smirked, a hint of spite in his eyes. “and what are you going to do about it? hit me? go on, try it.” satoru chuckled, a dangerous edge to his voice, “oh, we don't have to hit you. there are plenty of other ways to put you in your place.”

“oh yeah? like what?” the man retorted, his voice dripping with arrogance. satoru stepped closer, a sly smile on his face. “well, for starters, we could tell everyone in this club what a pathetic little sleazebag you are.” his words hit their mark, the man's confident smirk faltering for just a split second. he glanced around as the people nearby started to pay even more attention, their eyes darting between him and the three of you. don't forget shoko, yuu and nanami watching from behind.

the man's face paled slightly as more people turned their attention to the confrontation. it was clear that whatever leverage he thought he had was quickly disappearing. he looked at you, his eyes full of frustration and anger, but you met his gaze with a cool smirk.

“go on,” you coaxed, your voice smooth and sultry. “tell everyone how you tried to touch me without my consent.” the man's eyes widened in shock, his face flushing even more as people around you whispered in shock.

suguru's hand tightened on your hip as the whispers grew louder. he was getting more and more tense, ready to act if necessary. satoru's smile turned sharper as he saw the man falter. 

“oh, and don't forget the part where you tried to intimidate her,” satoru added, his voice sickly sweet but with a clear undercurrent of mockery. “can't forget that, now can we?” the man's face was now beet red, his eyes darting around frantically as he struggled to find a way out of the hole he'd dug himself into.

the whispers around you grew into murmurs as people began to whisper about the man's behavior. he looked around, his eyes darting from one person to the next, a hint of panic starting to show on his face as he realized he was in over his head

“i... i didn't mean anything by it,” he stammered, his voice now pleading, “i was just having a bit of fun.” suguru's lips curled into a sneer, “really? fun is grabbing someone without their consent? interesting definition you have there.”

you let out a tired sigh, your amusement fading as the man’s panicked stammering became more pathetic by the second. this whole situation had lost its entertainment value, and now it was just exhausting. “just go,” you said, your tone flat and dismissive, waving a hand as if shooing away an annoying insect, “i’m bored already.”

the man's face twisted in anger once again at your dismissing tone, but before he could respond, suguru’s grip on your hip tightened. he leaned in close to the man, his eyes dark and menacing. “you heard the lady,” suguru said, his voice low and dangerous, “get lost before i do something we both regret.”

the man bristled, but knew he was outnumbered and out-classed. he shot one last, spiteful look in your direction before storming off through the crowd, his face a sullen mess.

the people around you went back to their own business, the excitement quickly dissolving as the scene played out. satoru let out a low whistle, his eyes glittering with humor. “well, that was entertaining,” he said, a smirk on his face as he looked at you, “you sure know how to handle creeps, don’t you?”

you let out a wry chuckle, leaning back into suguru's chest as you felt his grip loosen slightly. “dealing with assholes is an art form,” you quipped, “and i'm a goddamn artist.” you scrunch your nose at your own words, suddenly feeling a hint of embarrassed. suguru huffed out a laugh, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip.

“that you are,” he agreed, his voice rough with amusement, “but next time, try not to give them a show, alright?” you frowned playfully, turning slightly in suguru’s arms to look up at him. “and lose a free circus like that? not a chance,” you replied with a smirk, “if a monkey wants attention, i’m going to give them one.” suguru chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, "you do love putting on a show, don’t you?”

suguru shook his head, a mix of mock annoyance and affection on his face. “you enjoy getting into trouble far too much,” he said, his voice slightly lecturing, but his eyes were soft as he looked at you. “one of these days you're going to bite off more than you can chew.”

satoru snickered in front of you.

“that's why she has us, to clean up the mess she makes.” you snickered, your eyes glinting with mischief as you turned to suguru. “you should be more smart like satoru, baby,” you teased, reaching over to ruffle satoru’s hair like he was a puppy. satoru grinned wide, clearly enjoying the playful attention.

suguru mock-scowled at you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away from satoru's hair.

“i'm plenty smart enough,” he said, his voice slightly petulant, “and i'd thank you not to encourage this one's bad behavior.” he gestured at satoru, who simply grinned wider, clearly relishing the moment.

you let out a bored sigh, your gaze drifting across the dance floor as people swayed and drank, lost in their own worlds. the vibrant energy that had initially excited you was now starting to feel a bit stale, the same repetitive beats and drunken laughter blending into a background noise that barely held your interest.

suguru noticed your shift in mood, his hand on your hip sliding up to your waist as he leaned down towards your ear. “bored already?” he asked, his voice rumbling close to your ear, his warm breath fanning across your neck. satoru’s eyes flicked from you to suguru, his smirk transforming into a knowing smile.

you were silent for a moment, feeling the warmth of suguru’s breath against your neck and the weight of his question hanging in the air. the noise, the lights, the crowd—it all seemed so monotonous now, and the idea of staying any longer felt suffocating.

suddenly, a thought struck you, and without another word, you pulled away from suguru, a determined look in your eyes. “let’s go to the beach,” you said, your tone decisive as you began to weave your way through the crowd, not waiting for their response.

suguru and satoru exchanged glances, a mix of surprise and amusement flashing across their faces before they hurried to follow you. they knew better than to question your sudden decisions.

on your way out, you spotted your friends—shoko, nanami, and haibara—still caught up in their own fun. without breaking stride, you reached out and pinched nanami’s cheek, earning a lazy look from him as he turned to you.

“we’re heading out first,” you announced, your tone light but with an edge of finality that left no room for argument. nanami just sighed, clearly used to your unpredictable nature, while shoko and yuu waved you off with a smile. “have fun,” shoko called after you, her voice barely carrying over the music.

with a quick wave, you continued toward the exit, your boyfriends close behind. the idea of the cool night air, the sound of the waves, and the peace of the beach had already lifted your spirits, and you knew that wherever the night led, it would be far better than staying in the crowded club.

suguru and satoru followed behind you like obedient shadows, sharing amused grins as they watched you in action. your unpredictability was one of the many things they loved about you, and it never failed to keep them on their toes.

suguru’s hand found your hip again, his grip firm as they made their way out of the club, the cool night air a stark contrast to the hot, cramped atmosphere inside. “lead the way, princess,” satoru said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

as the three of you made your way to the car, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement at the sudden change of plans. suguru’s hand on your hip was a comforting presence, and satoru’s teasing words brought a small smile to your lips.

once you reached the car, suguru slid into the driver’s seat, while satoru took the front passenger seat. you, however, slipped into the back, feeling a bit giddy as you settled in. as soon as the car started moving, you rolled down the window and leaned your head out, letting the cool night breeze whip through your hair and across your face.

the wind felt refreshing, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the club, and it seemed to clear the last remnants of alcohol from your system. you closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with the open road and the spontaneity of the night.

suguru kept his eyes on the road ahead, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he cast a sly look at you in the rearview mirror. he couldn’t help but admire the way the wind tousled your hair and the way your eyes closed in contentment.

satoru, on the other hand, twisted around in his seat, his usual smirk on his lips as he watched you bask in the open air. “you’re like a stray cat,” he teased. “always wanting to do unexpected things.” you playfully roll your eyes at him with a smile on your lips, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “what can i say, i like things exciting,” you retorted, leaning further out the window, the cool air caressing your face.

suguru chuckled from the driver’s seat, his eyes flickering to the road then back to you. “exciting is an understatement, baby. you’re a goddamn tornado, leaving chaos wherever you go.”

you chuckled at satoru’s comment, opening your eyes to meet his gaze, your expression playful. “and you boys are just my loyal hounds, following me wherever i lead.” suguru huffed a small laugh, his eyes still on the road but his tone slightly chiding. “careful, princess. your ego is starting to get a little inflated."

satoru snickered at your retort, his gaze never leaving you. “loyal hounds?” he mused, his eyes glimmering with playful challenges. “more like enablers for your whirlwind tendencies.” suguru chimed in from the driver's seat, his tone half-serious and half-amused, “someone needs to keep you in line, princess. otherwise, you'd run wild and take over the world.”

you chuckle lightly, “sorry.”

satoru and suguru both chuckle at your faux apology, knowing damn well you were as unapologetic as they come. “yeah, we believe you,” satoru said, rolling his eyes jokingly. suguru grins in the driver's seat, his eyes meeting your side profile in the rearview mirror. “just try not to cause too much chaos tonight, alright?”

you ignored their teasing remarks, keeping your eyes closed and your head still out the window, letting the wind brush against your face. their laughter and playful banter were familiar, comforting even, but right now, you were content to just be in the moment, letting your more carefree, playful side take over.

satoru and suguru exchanged knowing glances, their amusement tinged with affection. they knew you well enough to understand that sometimes, you just needed to let loose and be in your own world for a bit. after all, being younger than them, you still had that playful energy that demanded to be let out every now and then.

“she’s in her own world,” suguru murmured, his tone soft as he watched you through the rearview mirror. satoru, sensing the shift in your demeanor, turned around in his seat to look at you. his eyes softened as he took in your relaxed expression, your chin tilted up to the sky as you basked in the night air. “she’s like a goddamn cat,” he said, his voice lowered to a murmur so only suguru could hear him, “one minute, she’s a wild whirlwind and the next, she’s all content and calm.”

almost an hour later, the three of you arrived at the beach. the moment the car came to a stop, you were already unbuckling your seatbelt and throwing open the door. without a second thought, you bolted out of the car, kicking off your shoes and tossing your bag aside as you made a beeline for the shore.

“wah, it's the beach!” you squealed, your voice full of excitement as you dashed across the sand, the cool night air whipping through your hair.

suguru and satoru watched you with fond smiles, taking their time as they got out of the car. they knew you well enough to expect this kind of reaction, and they couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of contentment as they watched you run toward the water, your laughter echoing in the night. satoru bent down to pick up your discarded shoes and bag, shaking his head with a grin. “be careful, baby!”

suguru shut the car door and leaned against it, folding his arms as he watched you race down the beach. his eyes were soft, filled with a mixture of amusement and affection, as he observed your carefree demeanor.

“don’t get into the water!” he called out, his voice stern but laced with a hint of humor. “you might get soaked and catch a cold!” satoru, meanwhile, continued to gather your belongings, his head shaking slightly, “as if that’ll stop her,” he muttered, a smirk on his lips.

you ignored suguru's warning and continued darting across the sand. the cool night air was invigorating, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore only amplified the rush of excitement bubbling within you.

satoru finally caught up to you, his long strides quickly closing the distance. he playfully grabbed you around the waist, pulling you to a stop. “slow down, baby,” he teased, his voice light, “you’ll run yourself ragged.”

you let out a playful whine as satoru pulled you to a stop, your attempt to continue forward halfhearted. “you’re spoiling the fun,” you complained, though there was no heat behind your words. suguru, catching up to the two of you, rolled his eyes in amusement. “yeah, because getting yourself exhausted and collapsing on the beach sounds like so much fun,” he retorted, his voice laced with dry sarcasm.

satoru chuckled, his arms still wrapped loosely around your waist, holding you in place. “yeah, and us having to drag your sleepy, exhausted butt back to the car sounds like a blast.” suguru couldn’t help but join in on the teasing, his mocking comment adding to the banter. “not to mention the sand you'll undoubtedly get all over the car.”

you let out an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes at their teasing. “both of you suck,” you muttered, your voice laced with mock irritation as you tried to wriggle out of satoru's hold, but he only tightened his grip, chuckling softly against your ear.

suguru's eyebrow raised, a wicked glint in his eyes as he caught sight of your mock irritation. “aww, is someone getting grumpy because we're trying to look out for her?” he taunted, moving closer to you. satoru, still holding you captive in his arms, snickered, his breath warm against your ear, “can't handle a bit of teasing, princess? aren't you supposed to be having fun?”

you shot suguru a pointed look, clearly annoyed by his teasing. “well, i can’t, because you two decided to be party poopers and won’t let me,” you retorted, trying to sound more exasperated than you actually were.

satoru playfully squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder. “ahh, the struggles of being loved and cared for,” he mused sarcastically, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. suguru chuckled, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “yeah, we're such buzzkills, thinking about your well-being and everything.”

you leaned back into satoru’s chest, your mock irritation giving way to a subtle sense of comfort. as annoying as their overprotectiveness could be at times, deep down, you appreciated their concern. but there was no way you'd ever admit it aloud. suguru took a step closer, a sly grin on his lips as he closed in on you. “don’t worry, princess. we’ll find a way to entertain you without letting you exhaust yourself to death.”

you huffed, your annoyance slowly melting away under their affectionate banter. you knew both of them well enough to recognize that they were only teasing and that their words came from a place of concern. “more like paranoid worrywarts,” you muttered, a hint of a pout on your lips, “can't you just let me enjoy the beach without being mother hens all the time?”

satoru chuckled, his arms still wrapped tight around your waist. “oh, sweetheart, as if we have any control over our protective instincts when it comes to you.”

suguru couldn't help but chime in as well, his tall figure now standing directly beside you. “we just want to make sure you're safe and sound. even from the dangers of... sand,” he said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

you groaned, rolling your eyes at their overprotective antics. “oh, come on, i swear i'll be careful. i’m not going to the water,” you said, trying to sound as exasperated as possible. satoru gave you a gentle squeeze, his chin resting against your shoulder. “aww, look at her, trying to convince us that she'll behave,” he teased.

suguru chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “yeah, and how many times have we heard that before only to find her doing exactly what we warned her not to do?”

you let out a frustrated hum, feeling your patience thin as their overprotectiveness continued. “i wanna go home,” you mumbled, your tone carrying a hint of annoyance. satoru's arms around your waist loosened slightly as he heard your words. he could hear the genuine irritation in your tone and knew better than to push your limits. suguru, too, seemed to pick up on your annoyance, a hint of concern flitting across his features.

“hey, hey, hey,” satoru crooned, his voice softer now, “we don't have to go back yet, alright? we can find something else to do here.” you mumbled, still feeling a bit down, “i’m not in the mood now,” as you looked down at the wet sand, absentmindedly playing with it using your feet.

suguru and satoru exchanged an almost telepathic glance, their expressions shifting from playful teasing to genuine worry. they could sense that your mood had genuinely taken a hit and they knew they had pushed you a bit too far.

suguru stepped closer, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder. “hey,” he said softly, “we didn't mean to ruin your fun. we just...” suguru's voice trailed off, unable to find the right words. you continued to look at the sand, your toes absentmindedly sifting through it. “yeah, it’s okay, whatever,” you said quietly, your tone suggesting that you were still feeling a bit off.

satoru and suguru continued to exchange glances, their expressions turning more serious by the moment. seeing you in this state, even though it was their fault, caused a pang of guilt and regret in their hearts. satoru was the first to break the silence, his voice uncharacteristically softer than usual. “baby...”

suguru, not one to shy away from expressing his feelings, spoke up next, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder, “hey, princess, we're sorry.“

their apology hung in the air, the weight of their words conveying the sincerity behind them. they genuinely felt bad for pushing your buttons and spoiling your mood.

satoru, still standing behind you, gently spun you around so that you faced him. his eyes met yours, his expression a mix of remorse and tenderness. “yeah, we didn’t mean to kill your vibe. we were just... being dumbasses,” he admitted, his tone laced with regret.

you didn't look up, still focused on the sand beneath your feet. deep down, you knew you were being a bit petty and unreasonable, but your frustration and annoyance were getting the better of you.

satoru gently pulled you back against him, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist. “look, we're sorry, alright? we didn't mean to piss you off. we just...” suguru's hand squeezed your shoulder, silently echoing satoru's words, “we just want to keep you safe, that's all.”

satoru's chin found its usual spot on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “we just... we worry about you, princess, you know that. sometimes we go a bit overboard in trying to protect you, and we forget that you're not a fragile doll that needs constant watch over.”

suguru, standing beside you, added his thoughts in a more direct manner, “yeah, we just care about you too damn much, alright? but that doesn't give us an excuse to ruin your night.” you sighed softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you said, “i don't wanna be in here anymore, i wanna go home.” the excitement you had felt earlier had completely drained away, leaving you feeling deflated and upset.

both satoru and suguru were stunned into a brief silence at your words. they could see the disappointment and upset etched on your face, and it left them feeling even more remorseful for letting the night take this turn.

“hey, okay. we'll go home. we'll go home,” suguru said quietly, his hand on your shoulder giving a gentle squeeze. satoru, still holding you from behind, tightened his embrace around your waist. his voice was low and soft as he leaned in to speak into your ear. “we'll get you home, baby. we're sorry.”

as you quietly stepped toward the car, both satoru and suguru remained somber, their minds weighed down by the evening's turn of events. but then, out of nowhere, you grabbed a clump of wet seaweed and launched it straight at satoru's face, another piece landing perfectly on suguru's head. their stunned expressions were priceless.

you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, your previous sadness momentarily forgotten. “but catch me if you can first, bitch!” you shouted playfully, already sprinting down the beach, your laughter echoing in the night air.

satoru and suguru were caught completely off guard as the wet seaweed splattered onto them, the cold, slimy texture clinging to satoru's face and suguru's head. they stood there, stunned for a split second, before the realization of what just happened sank in.

satoru blinked, wiping the seaweed off his face, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “you little— oh, you’re so dead for that!” he called out, his voice filled with mock anger as he started after you.

suguru shook his head, seaweed dangling from his hair as he let out a hearty laugh. “you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he shouted, joining satoru in the chase, both of them determined to catch up with you. you were already several paces ahead, laughing as you sprinted toward the beach, your earlier sadness completely forgotten in the thrill of the moment.

satoru and suguru moved with incredible speed, their long legs eating up the distance between them and your fleeing figure. as they ran, they could hear your laughter bouncing off the night air, the sound both annoying and endearing at the same time. suguru, his voice slightly out of breath but filled with determination, called after you. “you think you can outrun us, princess?”

satoru chimed in, a playful smirk on his lips. “you’re forgetting that we’re superhuman freaks when it comes to speed, baby. there's no escaping us!”

your heart pounded in your chest as you saw them gaining on you. you pushed yourself to run even faster, the cool night air whipping past your face.

“fuck!” you screamed, your laughter bubbling up again despite the adrenaline rush. you glanced over your shoulder, seeing their determined expressions, which only made you laugh harder. the thrill of the chase had your pulse racing, even if you knew they’d catch you eventually.

satoru and suguru were closing in, their strides determined and relentless. they were gaining ground with every second, their superhuman speed giving them an advantage you couldn't match for long.

suguru's voice carried over the sound of the crashing waves, filled with determination and amusement. “you’re not getting away, princess. we're gonna catch you sooner or later!” satoru couldn't help but add his own taunt as they drew closer. “you're fast, but we're faster. give up already, baby. you can't win this race!”

you saw the mischievous grin on satoru's face as he twirled the seaweed in his hand, his eyes gleaming with playful menace. your fake apology didn't fool him or suguru for a second—they knew you too well.

“fuck, i'm sorry!” you yelled, but the laughter in your voice betrayed you.

satoru chuckled darkly, “oh, you’re gonna be sorry when i get you!”

you pushed your legs to run faster, but their footsteps were getting closer. the thrill of the chase only fueled your laughter, knowing they wouldn’t let you get away without some playful revenge.

satoru and suguru were now hot on your heels, their breathing slightly labored but their determination unwavering. the gap between you had narrowed considerably, their long strides making up the distance with ease.

suguru's voice, filled with a mix of mock irritation and amusement, called out behind you. “don't think saying you’re sorry will save you now, princess.” satoru echoed his comment, a smirk on his face. “yeah, you're going to pay for that little seaweed stunt. better start bracing yourself for your punishment!”

you skidded to a stop, quickly scooping up a handful of wet seaweed from the sand. your heart raced with excitement as you prepared to launch it at them, a wide grin spreading across your face.

“come on, boys, you want some more?” you taunted, your arm cocked back, ready to throw.

satoru and suguru were almost upon you, their hands reaching out to grab you, but you were quick, ducking and weaving out of their grasp while still holding your ammunition. “think you can dodge us forever?” suguru called out, his tone playful yet determined. with a laugh, you threw the seaweed at them, catching satoru on the shoulder.

satoru yelped as the seaweed hit his shoulder, his expression momentarily stunned before a cheeky grin spread across his face.

suguru burst into laughter as he watched you duck and weave out of their grasp. he shook his head, a mixture of amusement and admiration lighting up his eyes. “you're relentless, you know that?”

satoru brushed the seaweed off his shoulder, his eyes narrowing in playful determination. “oh, now you've done it. you just signed up for some serious payback, baby.” just as you tried to dodge again, satoru’s long arms finally wrapped around you, pulling you back toward him. “gotcha!” he exclaimed triumphantly, holding you tight while suguru came up to help pin you down.

your laughter echoed through the night, knowing you’d be in for whatever playful revenge they had in mind next. gojo swung your body slightly as he held you against his chest, laughing.

satoru and suguru were both breathing heavily from their chase as they finally caught you, satoru holding you tightly against him while suguru stood beside you. their hands held you firmly in place, making it impossible for you to escape.

satoru's laugh filled the air as he held you against him, his body still buzzing from the adrenaline. “you little brat,“ he mused, his voice tinged with mock annoyance. “you thought you could outmaneuver us, but we got you anyway.”

you covered your face with your hands, feeling the seaweed slipping through your fingers as you tried to shield yourself from the inevitable. your laughter was muffled, but the joy and mischief were still evident as you squirmed in satoru's grasp, trying to wiggle free. “suguru, no!” you managed to gasp between laughs, peeking through your fingers to see him holding the seaweed with a wicked grin.

“oh, yes,” suguru teased, slowly approaching with the seaweed in hand, “you’ve had your fun, now it’s our turn.” you wriggled harder, your laughter turning into a mixture of giggles and mock pleas as you tried to escape, but satoru’s hold on you was firm.

satoru chuckled, his arms holding you tight against him as you squirmed and laughed in his grasp. he could feel the tension in your body as you tried to shield yourself from the inevitable seaweed attack.

suguru approached with a wicked grin, holding the seaweed in his hand. his eyes gleamed with amusement as he taunted you, “oh, you're not going anywhere, princess.”

together, satoru and suguru began to tease you with the seaweed, gently tickling you with it and laughing as you squirmed and giggled in vain attempts to escape. you let out a playful scream, “not my hair!” as you squirmed even more, desperately trying to dodge the tickling seaweed. your laughter echoed through the air, blending with satoru and suguru’s as they continued their teasing assault.

satoru chuckled, his grip on you unwavering as he teased, “oh, now you’re worried about your hair? too late, princess!”

suguru, equally amused, waved the seaweed close to your head with exaggerated slowness, drawing out your mock panic. “don't worry, we'll make sure it's styled perfectly,” he joked. your giggles turned into full-blown laughter as you struggled, your hair becoming their main target.

your struggles and laughter only made satoru and suguru more determined to tease you further. they continued to wave the seaweed playfully over your head, their grins widening with each sound that escaped your lips.

satoru's voice was filled with false seriousness as he declared, “we’re just trying to give you that beach-chic look, princess.” suguru chimed in, his own voice laced with laughter, “yeah, you know, tousled and windblown. the perfect look for a night at the beach!”

with a triumphant laugh, suguru carefully wrapped the long piece of seaweed around your neck, making it look like a ridiculous, slimy scarf. satoru, still holding you tightly against his chest, couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the sight.

“there we go,” satoru teased, his voice filled with amusement, “a perfect accessory for our little troublemaker.”

suguru stepped back to admire their handiwork, a satisfied grin on his face. “you’re rocking that look, princess. very avant-garde,” he joked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement. “you two are the worst,” you muttered, but your grin betrayed how much fun you were actually having. both satoru and suguru chuckled at your comment, clearly enjoying themselves immensely as they teased you. satoru's arms held you tightly against him, while suguru stood back admiring his handy work.

satoru smirked, his voice playful. “oh, come on, princess. you know you love it when we give you a makeover.”

suguru chimed in, his tone full of mock seriousness. “yeah, we're just your fashion consultants for the night. seaweed is the hottest accessory this season, you know.” you rolled your eyes dramatically, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at your lips as you played along. “if this is what you call a makeover, i think i need to fire my stylists,” you quipped, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as your laughter broke through.

satoru and suguru exchanged a quick, mischievous glance, their eyes lighting up with a new idea. before you could even react, satoru tightened his grip around your waist, and suguru grabbed your legs.

“wait, no—!” you barely managed to protest before they hoisted you off the ground. with a shared laugh, they swung you towards the water, ignoring your playful struggles. “time for a swim, princess!” satoru declared.

and with that, they tossed you into the shallow waves, the cold water splashing around you as you landed with a squeal.

satoru and suguru burst into laughter as they tossed you into the cool water. they stood a few feet away, their eyes gleaming with amusement as they watched you splash and flail in the shallow waves. suguru called out to you, his voice filled with a hint of mischief. “how's the water, princess? a little cold, i bet!”

satoru added, still laughing, “yeah, we figured we'd give you a nice, refreshing rinse. gotta make sure you're clean after our little seaweed fashion session!”

both satoru and suguru stood near the edge of the water, their jeans soaked from the splash. their expressions mixed between amusement and concern as they watched you stand up, shaking off the water.

you looked up at them with a playful scowl, ready to unleash your mock fury. “oh, you’re assholes,” you grumbled, but before you could make a move, a wave caught you off guard.

you stumbled and fell, the water rising up around you as you landed with a splash. your laughter mingled with the sound of the waves, the playful battle now turned into a full-on water fight as you tried to regain your footing, grinning up at them despite your soggy predicament.

satoru and suguru couldn't help but burst into laughter once again as they saw you stumble and fall back into the water. they watched as you tried to regain your footing, still spluttering and laughing despite the now sopping wet state.

suguru called out to you, his voice filled with mock taunting, “looks like you're the one who needs a rinse now, princess!”

satoru echoed his sentiment, his own laughter joining in, “yeah, might as well dive back in and make the most of it, baby!” you managed to find your footing and, with a mischievous grin, reached out to grab both satoru and suguru. you pulled them into the water with a forceful splash, their surprised yelps merging with your laughter.

as they tumbled into the shallow waves, you stood over them, pointing and laughing. “who’s the loser now?” you taunted, your laughter ringing out as they floundered in the water, their once smug expressions now replaced with wide-eyed surprise.

satoru and suguru let out surprised yelps as you yanked them into the water with you. they stumbled and tripped, ending up on their butts in the shallow waves before you.

they sat there, disoriented and soaking wet, before glancing up at you with matching looks of mock shock. satoru brushed the hair from his eyes, his voice filled with exaggerated indignance, “you little sneak!”

suguru was equally surprised but couldn't help a laugh escaping. “oh, princess, you don't fight fair!”

you snorted, your grin widening as you looked down at them. “oh honey, everything is fair in love and war,” you replied, your tone playful and unapologetic. satoru chuckled, his eyes narrowing with playful determination. “fine, if it's a war you want, princess, you got it.”

he suddenly lunged at you, trying to grab your ankle and pull you back down into the water. suguru followed right behind, his own competitive gleam in his eyes. the three of you splashed and laughed as you all grappled and wrestled in the shallow waves. it was a playful and lighthearted battle, each of you trying to get the upper hand on the others.

satoru and suguru tried to knock you off balance, their eyes sparkling with amusement. “no escaping us now, princess!” they taunted, their voices a mix of mock seriousness and laughter. you tumbled between them with a splash, falling into the shallow water where satoru and suguru were sitting. you laughed as you hit the water, the cold waves mixing with your giggles.

satoru grinned at you, his eyes alight with mischief. “gotcha!” suguru chuckled, joining in on the teasing, “yeah, you're not getting away this time, princess.”

satoru reached out and pinched your side, playfully tickling you as he and suguru both laughed at your predicament. “you really thought you could knock us both down and walk away unscathed, huh?”

you let out a squeal as satoru's tickling fingers found their mark, wriggling and laughing as you tried to fend him off. suguru’s arm around your waist, pressing your back against his hard chest, provided a comforting anchor as you sat between them, their playful banter and laughter adding to the fun.

“you two are impossible,” you managed to say between giggles, resting against suguru’s side. the warmth of their presence and the playful splashing made you forget all about the earlier frustration, enjoying the carefree moment with them.

satoru chuckled, his fingers still dancing over your skin as he continued his playful attack. “oh, you love it, princess,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. suguru, his arm still wrapped around your waist, added, “yeah, you can't deny how much fun this is.”

the three of you sat there in the shallow waves, the water slicking across your skin and the moon shining down from above. satoru's hand slowed its tickling, his touch now becoming more affectionate, “we just can't resist teasing you, baby.”

you leaned in close to satoru, catching him off guard with a sudden kiss. his eyes widened in surprise, and the tickling stopped as he melted into the kiss. suguru, watching the interaction, couldn’t help but smile warmly, his arm still around your waist.

as you pulled away, you saw satoru’s stunned but pleased expression. “there, now you’re quiet,” you said with a mischievous grin, finally feeling victorious in your playful battle. satoru blinked, his face still flushed from the unexpected kiss. he tried to form a snarky response, but his brain didn't seem to be functioning at the moment. suguru chuckled knowingly, clearly enjoying the effect you had on satoru.

satoru finally managed to speak, his voice somewhat dazed. “well, that's definitely one way to shut me up, princess.” suguru chimed in, his smile widening, “you know how to keep us on our toes, that's for sure.”

you turned your face towards suguru, a playful glint in your eyes as you teased, “you need to shut up too.” before he could react, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a kiss. his surprise melted into a smile, and he responded with equal affection. the playful atmosphere continued as you pulled away, satisfied with your ability to keep both of them on their toes.

suguru's eyes widened for a moment as you caught him off guard with a kiss, but then he smiled, returning the affection with equal intensity. satoru, his earlier surprise slowly wearing off, watched the two of you with a mix of amusement and envy.

as you pulled away, satoru couldn't help but chime in, a hint of playful annoyance in his voice. “hey, what about me? i can be quiet too, you know!”

you let out a small, playful shiver as you replied with a teasing smile, “oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss too?” you leaned in towards satoru, your lips brushing against his as you gave him a quick, teasing peck. the cold made your lips tremble slightly, but you pulled back with a satisfied grin. “there, happy now?”

satoru rolled his eyes in a mock annoyance, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “well, that was hardly a proper kiss,“ he complained, his voice filled with mock disappointment.

suguru chuckled beside you, his arm around your waist still warm and comforting. “don't be greedy, satoru,” he teased. “you already got more than enough attention tonight.” you nodded in agreement with suguru, lips and body still trembling from the cold.

suguru noticed your shivering and tightened his arm around your waist, drawing you closer in an attempt to stop the tremors. “you're cold, aren't you, princess?” he said, his voice filled with concern. satoru, noticing your body trembling as well, added, “yeah, we should probably get you out of here before you freeze, baby.”

satoru's fingers worked to gently remove the seaweed from your neck, his touch soft and tender. he chuckled at the state you had gotten yourself into, his eyes sparkling with affection. “ugh, you're such a messy girl,” he murmured, his words tinted with mock frustration. "always finding ways to end up soaked and covered in seaweed. what are we going to do with you, huh?“

suguru's arm remained around your waist, the warmth of his touch providing some comfort against the cold. he chuckled softly at satoru's comments, his body pressed against yours. “yeah, you seem to have a knack for getting into these situations, princess,” he teased, his tone affectionate, “always ending up in trouble and need of rescuing.”

as the three of you tried to get out of the water, your bare feet shuffled across the sandy ocean floor. without warning, you stepped on a sharp shell buried beneath the surface. “aw!” a sharp jolt of pain shot up through your foot, and you winced, stumbling slightly. instinctively, you lifted your foot from the sand and saw the blood oozing from the cut.

suguru's eyes immediately dropped to your injury, and his expression shifted from playful to serious in an instant. he sighed, his shoulders drooping slightly as he shook his head. the gentle amusement that had been present in his voice earlier was replaced by a more exasperated tone. “see?” he said, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and concern.

satoru, noticing the change in suguru's demeanor, quickly moved closer. his playful smirk had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine worry. he crouched down beside you, his fingers delicately touching your wounded foot. “damn, that looks painful,” he said softly, his voice now gentle and soothing, “we need to get you taken care of.”

satoru's expression shifted from playful teasing to concern as he noticed your wince and the blood on your foot. suguru, his own concern evident, let out a small sigh as he noticed the cut.

“ah, you've done it again, princess,” he teased, his voice mixed with a hint of worry. satoru quickly knelt down, gently inspecting the wound. “we can't take you anywhere, can we?” he joked, but his eyes reflected his worry for you, “are you alright, baby? does it hurt bad?”

suguru stepped closer, the playful atmosphere that had been surrounding you all just a moment ago now replaced by an air of concern. he looked down at the wound on your foot, his expression serious. “you always manage to get into trouble, don't you?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with gentle disapproval.

satoru's fingers gently touched your foot, assessing the cut. he looked up at you with a mixture of worry and affection. “how bad is it, baby? can you walk?”

you mumbled an apologetic “sorry” through your winces, trying to manage the pain. glancing at satoru, you forced a small smile and said, “i can walk with one foot,” your voice trembling slightly from the discomfort. despite the pain, you tried to put on a brave face, determined not to let it ruin the moment completely.

satoru and suguru exchanged a quick glance as they saw the pain etched on your face. suguru's eyes filled with concern as he spoke. “don't apologize, princess,” he assured you, his voice gentle, “you didn't do anything wrong.”

satoru, looking at your attempted smile, couldn't hide the concern in his eyes. “no way are you walking on this,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument, “we're not letting you further injure yourself.”

satoru helped you carefully out of the water, guiding you slowly toward the shore. suguru stayed close by, his expression a mix of concern and frustration as he watched the situation unfold.

“wait here,” satoru said to suguru, his voice steady as he glanced back. “i’ll grab the first aid kit from the car.”

with that, satoru headed off toward the vehicle, his pace quick and purposeful. suguru remained at your side, his hand gently resting on your shoulder to offer support.

suguru helped you settle down on the sand, carefully making sure you were comfortable despite the discomfort from your injury. he sat beside you, keeping an eye on the approaching satoru.

“try to stay still,” suguru said softly, his voice soothing. he gave you a gentle smile as he softly caressed your wet hair, “we’ll get you patched up in no time, okay?” as satoru jogged away, suguru stayed beside you, his hand gently running through your wet hair. he made sure you were comfortable, his touch gentle and calming.

“easy there,” he murmured as you shifted your injured foot. “don’t move it too much, okay? we need to keep it as still as possible until satoru gets back with the first-aid kit.” he sat beside you, his eyes scanning over the cut, his voice filled with concern. “how are you feeling, princess? the pain subsiding a little?”

you gave him a small, pained smile, your eyes still a bit damp from the water. “yeah, it’s not too bad,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the discomfort. “just a bit sore. thanks for staying with me, suguru.”

you leaned into his side slightly, appreciating his presence and the warmth of his hand in your hair. “i’m sorry for causing trouble tonight.” knowing that they already warned you about getting hurt and here you are..

suguru smiled slightly, his expression a mix of affection and concern. “don't apologize, princess. you didn't do anything wrong. accidents happen, and we're just glad we can help take care of you.”

he continued to run his fingers through your hair, the gesture calming and reassuring. “and don't worry about causing trouble. it's just part of your charm, after all.” suguru looked up as satoru returned from the vehicle, first-aid kit in hand. “ah, here he comes. we'll have you patched up in no time, princess.”

satoru quickly returned from the vehicle, his hands carrying the first-aid kit. he knelt down next to you, his expression a mix of concern and relief. “i got the first aid kit, princess.” he gently opened the kit, sifting through the various supplies until he found what he was looking for. he grabbed a clean cloth and a bottle of antiseptic, his movements efficient and focused. “this might sting a bit,” he warned, his voice gentle, “but we need to clean the wound to prevent any infection.”

satoru knelt down beside you, his hands already rummaging through the first aid kit. his movements were quick and purposeful as he grabbed a cloth and a bottle of antiseptic, clearly determined to take care of your injury.

“alright, this might hurt a bit but we need to keep it clean to prevent any infection,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. “hold still, princess.” he carefully applied the antiseptic to the cloth, his touch gentle yet firm as he began cleaning the cut.

you flinched slightly at the sting of the antiseptic but tried to remain still, focusing on satoru’s soothing voice. “oh fuck,” you murmured through a wince, appreciating his careful and attentive care. you glanced up at him with a faint smile, grateful for his attention and the way he was taking care of you.

satoru chuckled softly at your whispered curse, his eyes never leaving the cut as he continued to clean it. “just hang in there, princess,” he teased, his voice light. “i know it stings, but it's almost done.” as he worked, he reached out with his free hand to gently caress your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring.

you chuckled softly as you saw the intense concentration on satoru’s face, finding his focus endearing. “you’re so focused, it’s adorable,” you said, your voice light with affection. as you reached up, you gently picked the seaweed out of his hair, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “and you’ve got seaweed in your hair, too.”

satoru glanced up at you, his expression shifting from intense concentration to amusement as you picked the seaweed out of his hair. “ah, of course you would notice that,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with laughter, “can't get anything past you, princess,” he continued, his tone lighthearted. he applied a final wipe of antiseptic before letting out a small sigh, “there we go, all cleaned up.”

he looked down at the cut, his eyes assessing it closely to ensure everything was cleaned up properly. he then grabbed a small roll of gauze and a few pieces of adhesive tape from the first aid kit. “now, let's get you wrapped up,” he murmured, his voice low and caring, “hopefully this'll keep you from hurting yourself again for a little while.”

you gave a sheepish smile, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. “thanks, baby,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. you looked up at him, appreciating the care he was taking with your injury. “i promise I’ll try not to cause any more accidents tonight.”

satoru chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he began wrapping your foot, his fingers agile and precise. “yeah, you better not,” he teased, his voice light. “i don't think my heart can handle any more of your unexpected injuries tonight. try to be a little more careful, princess, for my sake, alright?”

you nodded, giving him a small, grateful smile. “okay, i’ll be more careful,” you said softly. “thanks for taking care of me, ’toru.” satoru smiled at your words, his expression gentle and affectionate. “of course, princess. we'll always take care of you,” he reassured.

suguru, who had been watching silently, chimed in with a nod. “yeah, we've got you,” he added, his voice filled with warmth, “no matter what trouble you manage to find yourself in.”

with expert precision, satoru finished wrapping your injured foot. he stood up, offering his hand to you as he spoke. “there you go, all taken care of,” he said, his voice filled with a hint of pride, “you think you can stand, princess?”

you took his hand and tried to stand, carefully putting weight on your wrapped foot. “yeah, i can,” you said, testing your balance. the wrap felt secure, and with satoru's support, you managed to stay upright and suguru's hands around your waist.

both satoru and suguru hovered around you, ready to catch you if you stumbled. suguru's hands were gentle but firm around your waist, his touch reassuring.

“easy there, princess,” suguru warned, his voice calming. “don't put too much weight on that foot just yet.” satoru nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving your face, his voice filled with concern. “take it slow, okay? we don't want you hurting yourself again.”

you nodded, appreciating their careful guidance as they helped you back to the car. “thanks, baby,” you said, your voice grateful. you moved slowly, mindful of your injured foot, feeling their supportive presence every step of the way.

satoru and suguru walked beside you, their steps slow and purposeful to match your pace. they remained close, ready to catch you if you lost balance.

suguru's arm wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, providing steady support. satoru stayed on the other side, his hand on your shoulder, offering extra stability. “just take your time, princess,” suguru murmured, his voice gentle and reassuring, “we're not in a hurry.”

you squeezed suguru's hand gently, a silent gesture of gratitude for both of them. their support made you feel safe and cared for, and you couldn’t help but smile softly despite the situation.

when you reached the car, satoru was quick to stash the first aid kit in the trunk and pull out suguru's hoodie. without a word, he draped it over your shoulders, his touch warm and considerate. “here, princess,” he said softly, helping you into the hoodie. “we can't have you catching a cold on top of everything else.”

you slipped your arms into the sleeves, feeling the warmth of suguru's hoodie enveloping you. the soft fabric was a comfort against the cool night air, and you felt a deep sense of affection for them both. “thanks,” you murmured, your voice filled with appreciation as you leaned into the warmth.

as you slid into suguru's hoodie, the warmth of the fabric settled over you, a comfortable and familiar presence. satoru smiled, clearly pleased to see you cozy and comfortable.

“no problem, princess,” he replied, his voice warm. “we can't have you getting cold on top of everything else.” suguru stepped up beside him, his eyes flickering over your form as you adjusted the hoodie. his expression was soft, a mixture of affection and concern. “you look cute in that,” he observed, his voice low and fond.

you blushed slightly at his words, a small smile playing on your lips. before you could respond, suguru leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. the tender gesture filled you with warmth, easing the discomfort from your injury.

suguru then opened the backseat door for you, his hand resting on your back as he helped you inside. “let's get you home,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. you nodded, feeling secure and cared for as the three of you prepared to head home.

satoru and suguru settled you comfortably in the back seat, their attention to detail ensuring you were as comfortable as possible. suguru slipped into the driver's seat, while satoru took the passenger side next to him.

the drive home started in a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the car engine filling the air. suguru glanced at you in the rearview mirror, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. “how are you feeling back there, princess?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. “the hoodie keeping you warm?”

you snuggled deeper into suguru’s hoodie, the warmth and familiar scent calming your nerves. you nodded, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it clearly from the front seat. “i’m okay,” you replied softly, your voice a little tired but content. “the hoodie’s perfect, thank you.”

satoru turned slightly in his seat to look at you, his eyes filled with concern. “good,” he murmured, his tone lighter now that he knew you were comfortable. “we’ll be home soon, just relax.”

you nodded again, your eyes beginning to droop as the gentle motion of the car and the warmth of the hoodie started to lull you into a peaceful state. “thanks, both of you,“ you whispered, your gratitude evident even as you fought to keep your eyes open. their presence made you feel safe, and you let yourself drift off, knowing you were in good hands.

as you whispered your thanks, satoru and suguru exchanged a quick glance in the front seats. their expressions softened slightly, seeing you drift off. suguru focused on the road, his hands firmly on the wheel. “she's falling asleep,” he noted quietly, his voice filled with a mix of concern and affection.

satoru let out a small sigh, turning back to look at you again. the sight of you bundled up in suguru's hoodie, drifting off peacefully, filled him with a pang of protectiveness. “yeah,” he agreed, his voice soft.

satoru glanced at suguru, his expression serious despite the softness in his eyes. “drive slow, suguru,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “doesn’t matter how long it takes to get home—just don’t wake her.”

satoru turned back to look at you again, watching as you slept peacefully in the back seat. a small, protective smile tugged at his lips as he settled back into his seat, making sure you stayed undisturbed. the car moved gently down the road, each bump and turn handled with care, all for the sake of keeping you in your peaceful slumber.

suguru nodded silently in response to satoru's quiet request. he slowed down even further, driving with extra care to minimize any bumps or jerks that could disturb your sleep.

a comfortable silence filled the car as they continued on their way home. suguru's eyes flickered occasionally to the rearview mirror, checking on you in the back. satoru, meanwhile, sat quietly, his gaze occasionally shifting to you as well. their shared concern for your comfort and wellbeing was palpable in the air.

the journey continued, each mile passing by slowly and carefully as suguru continued to drive with the utmost caution.

every now and then, satoru would turn to look at you, checking to make sure you were still sleeping soundly. his expression softened each time he glanced at you, his concern and affection visible in the gentle way he watched you. the car finally pulled into the driveway, coming to a soft stop in front of the house. both suguru and satoru turned to look at you once again, their eyes filled with a mixture of relief and tenderness.

“we're home,” suguru said softly, his voice deliberately low to avoid disturbing you. satoru unbuckled his seatbelt, his eyes still on your form in the back seat. “let's get her inside,” he breathed, his voice tinged with a mix of worry and concern.

suguru nodded in agreement, also unbuckling his seatbelt. both of them got out of the car and cautiously opened the back door, their movements slow and measured to minimize any disturbance to your sleep.

suguru gently slipped his arms under you, lifting you carefully from the back seat. your head rolled onto his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck.

satoru stood by his side, a steady presence as suguru cradled you in his arms. they exchanged a look, silently sharing their concern for your comfort and wellbeing. with their steps slow and deliberate, they carried you towards the house.

as they reached the bedroom, suguru carefully laid you down on the bed, his movements gentle to avoid waking you. he watched as your head nestled into the pillow, a small, peaceful sigh escaping your lips. satoru, ever attentive, had already retrieved your pajamas.

satoru approached the bed, a pair of your pajamas held in his hands. he set the clothes down on the nearby chair, then approached the bed where you lay sleeping.

suguru stood by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. his expression was filled with a mixture of tenderness and concern, a quiet guardian watching over you. satoru leaned down, his voice barely above a whisper. “we need to get her changed and out of these clothes,” he murmured to suguru.

with a glance at suguru, they silently agreed on their next steps. satoru carefully began to help you out of the damp clothes, his hands moving with delicate precision. suguru stood by, ready to assist, his gaze never leaving your face to ensure you stayed asleep.

satoru worked slowly, his touch feather-light as he changed you into the warm, dry pajamas. he was extra careful, his heart aching at the thought of you catching a cold. once done, he adjusted the blankets around you, tucking you in with a tenderness that spoke volumes of his concern.

as satoru finished changing you into your pajamas, suguru watched silently, his eyes soft with affection at the way satoru took care of you. once you were comfortable and tucked in, satoru stepped back, his gaze lingering on your face.

suguru reached out, gently smoothing a strand of hair off your forehead. “she's okay,” he said softly, his words more a statement of reassurance for himself than anything else. suguru leaned down and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment. “sleep well, princess,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of warmth. satoru nodded in agreement, pulling the covers snug around you one last time before they both stepped back, satisfied that you were comfortable and safe.

they stood by the bed for a moment longer, both of them watching you sleep with expressions of tenderness and concern.

suguru's eyes flickering over you once more, his gaze filled with a mixture of appreciation and worry. satoru's hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “she looks so peaceful,” he murmured, a small smile on his lips.

satoru's fingers lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he let out a soft sigh. "she really does," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet admiration. then, his gaze shifted to suguru, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

wrapping his arm around suguru's waist, he pulled him a little closer, the warmth of his touch comforting. “we need to take a shower first before joining her,” satoru said softly, his tone gentle but firm, “we can't crawl into bed all sandy and wet.”

suguru nodded in agreement, his eyes still on you, but he allowed satoru to guide him towards the bathroom. as they left the room, satoru glanced back at you one last time, his heart full of affection and protectiveness.

the bathroom door closed quietly behind them, satoru gently guiding suguru towards the shower.

as satoru turned on the water, the sound of the shower echoed through the bathroom. he waited for the water to warm up before he began disrobing, his movements efficient and quick.

suguru followed suit, shedding his clothes, his eyes flickering towards the bedroom door occasionally, his thoughts clearly still on you.

[fushic0re]

❝𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒❞

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛���𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗔𝗢𝗜 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗢, 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗨 𝗞𝗢𝗡𝗚

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟎 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. alcohol consumptions. drunken antics. smut; penetrative sex, sex in a public space. slightly cracky. 

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ in true hallmark movie fashion, the holiday party ends with your crush getting so drunk that he spills professions of love. 

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

SATORU GOJO 

Whiney. Clingy. Horny. 

First of all, we know this man is a lightweight. Don’t even be surprised that he’s easily swayed by the influence of alcohol. 

At some point (for his own sanity of course) Nanami tried to curb him whenever he wanted another drink…but he gave up. 

So now you’re stuck with a very drunk Satoru Gojo 

One minute he’s being his usual irritating self, the next he’s practically slurring as he blurts out really, really stupid shit. 

You’re desperately trying to reel him in because your students are literally in the same room as you and do not need to see their teacher drunk or hear the inappropriate things he’s saying. 

But Satoru Gojo cannot be stopped. 

He also cannot for the life of him contain any of the feelings he has for you in his body. So despite the fact that he would probably benefit more from throwing up all the sake bombs he’s had, he throws up drunken confessions. 

Though it’s no secret that the both of you harbor feelings for each other, neither of you has explicitly acted on them…until now. 

“My GOD. You are so pretty. Like, I wanna take off my blindfold to appreciate you fully but your beauty just makes my eyes huuuurrrt!” “...Thank..you? It’s definitely your Six Eyes though–” “No, it’s all the pretty.” 

“Heyyyyy, dance with me!~” 

Yelling “I WANNA HAVE SEX WITH YOU PLEASE–” across the room. 

Nobara for sure gets it on video. Megumi and Maki are appalled. Yuuji and Panda standing there with no thoughts behind their eyes. Toge’s lowkey entertained but will continue to remain to look unbothered. Nanami is rubbing his eyes and sighing deeply. Shoko for SURE eggs him on. Masamichi is ready to throw them both out. 

You take it upon yourself to try and see if someone can get him home while you continue to celebrate with the kids, but Shoko is too drunk. That leaves…

“Nanami, can you–” “Absolutely not. Have a good night.” 

And that’s how you end up hauling that man back to your apartment…because he caused a scene when you tried to take him home to his. 

Literally just clings to you and cannot be detached from you for the life of him. 

You set up a bed for him on the couch, but the second you turn around–

“I wanna sleep with youuuu!” Satoru whines, hugging you tightly from behind as you wash your face for the night. “Why are you kicking me out?”

You sigh exasperatedly before shooting him a stern look. 

“Satoru. Couch. Go.” 

You go to lay in bed and after having your eyes closed for only five minutes, your door opens and he’s crawling into bed behind you whining.

“Wanna stay here with you. You have more pillows.” “I can give you extra pillows if you want som–” “Boobs. I want your boobs :D” 

At that point, you literally just give up. He’s spooning you from behind, clinging to you so tightly that you literally feel his dick hardening against you as his large hands knead your breasts. 

His mouth is pressed right to your ear, murmuring promises as he begins to finally fall asleep.

“I swear…when I’m more sober, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you. Promise.” 

You both take work off the next day. Everyone knows why. 

SUGURU GETO 

Seductive. Suave. Charming. 

When Suguru gets enough alcohol in him, he turns into such a romantic. 

Everyone thinks you guys are together and have been together for a while solely based on his body language. 

Without any inhibitions left to deter him from fully expressing his fondness for you, he allows you to be his center of gravity–when you move, he moves. 

His body naturally leans towards yours. He adjusts his body so that it’s clear his attention is only on you even when you’re not speaking. No one else exists to him. 

Very put together. If it weren’t for him being more flirty than usual, you wouldn’t even think he was under the influence. 

Whisks you away shamelessly away from other people when he feels like you’ve been giving them more attention than them. 

You’re talking to a group of coworkers when suddenly Suguru comes up from behind you and places a hand on your waist. 

“Excuse me, ladies. You wouldn’t mind if I stole this beauty away for a dance, would you?” He purrs. 

But he’s not asking. By the time he’s done speaking, you’re already being swept away by him. He doesn’t even wait for a response, nor does he care to notice the way said coworkers gawk at you jealously. 

This man literally twirls you around the dancefloor with a big smile on his face. His eyes never leave yours. 

“What’d gotten into you?” You laugh softly as he dips you. 

He simply shakes his head and chuckles. 

“Nothing. I’m just really in love with you and there is quite literally nothing in the way to get in my head or stop me from saying it anymore.” 

It’s a simple, straightforward, and intimate confession that is oh so Suguru. 

KENTO NANAMI 

Our main is a heavy drinker who can handle his liquor expertly, so…you’re the tipsy one. 

You, Satoru, Shoko, Utahime, and Kento are all at a sushi bar celebrating a successful semester and the steady growth of your kids. 

Too swept up in the good vibes, you don’t stop yourself from having a drink of choice with Shoko each time she orders a sake bomb. 

Little by little, your laughs increase until they’re filling the room. 

Kento is the first to notice, glancing down at you with a barely noticeably softened expression as all of your worries are alleviated–even if it’s just momentarily. 

The two of you worked more closely than the others knew. Yuuji had taken a close liking to you, so naturally, you and Kento convened often to discuss his progress and needs. 

Of course, these little meetings extended into ones of a more personal nature like grabbing lunch, a bakery run, or even a simple walk. 

It was safe to say that Kento Nanami, the adult of all adults, had developed a soft spot for you. 

Which is why he can feel his face heat up and his heart begin to pound against his chest as your head falls against his shoulder, giggling as you stare up at him. 

Unable to help himself, he gives you a gentle smile, placing a hand on your cheek. 

“You’re really warm.” He comments. “Would you like to get some fresh air?” 

“Yea! I wanna see all the twinkly lights the stores have put out!” You chime, tugging on his sleeve. 

The blond affectionately groans before helping you into your coat and slipping his on, stepping out of the booth. 

“I’m taking her for a walk. We’ll be back.” “Ooh! Can we–” “No.” 

With that, he helps you up and out of the restaurant, your hand clasped in the crook of his arm. 

Your friends are suddenly sobered up at the table, shooting each other shocked expressions. 

“...You guys saw that right?” 

Meanwhile, you and Kento are walking down the street leisurely as you literally babble nonstop. 

“I wanna take Yuuji here for dinner one day, we should go together! It’ll be really nice for us both to spend time with him, since we’re basically like his parents right? You know what parents do? Kiss! Why haven’t we–” 

Kento halts your runny mouth with a finger pressed to your lips, the most honeyed expression on his stupidly handsome face as he gazes at you. 

“As adorable as you are at this moment, I really want to have this conversation with you when you’re mind is clear enough to remember it.” He whispers, pulling your coat around you tighter as a gust of wind blows by. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?” 

TOJI FUSHIGURO 

Toji literally cannot get drunk, so guess who's spilling their guts? You.

You’re out with some girlfriends for a Friendsmas dinner when the sangria hits you all a little too hard. 

Your best friend is left with no choice but to take your phone and call the guy you’ve been seeing to come pick you up. 

While you loved Toji, admitting it yourself–but especially him–was a terrifying concept to you all because of a certain little sea urchin-like haired toddler…Megumi. 

God, you loved that kid. You loved him to absolute death. He practically felt like your own child. Which was even scarier because what if things didn’t work out between you and Toji? What if one day he decided that his late wife couldn’t be replaced? Would he resent you? 

All of that reservation flies out of the window when you’re carried into his apartment and are greeted with a sleepy Megumi in the doorway, having been watched by a neighbor. 

“Mama?” 

You literally sob. It’s quite embarrassing considering your inebriated state, but the emotions cannot be contained any longer. 

The toddler frowns, his father’s expression mirroring his own. He had never seen you so…fragile. 

“God, I love you guys.” You confess tearily. “I’m so sorry that this is how you have to hear it but–” 

Your interrupted by two forces against you; muscle arms around your shoulders from behind and a small body hugging your front tightly. 

“Silly, mama.” Megumi giggles. 

Toji’s deep laugh fills your ears alongside his deep, adoration-laced tone. 

“Yea…silly mama.” 

AOI TODO 

Friendsmas gets a little too lit when the great Aoi Todo is around. 

Yuuji playfully insists on trying every flavor of Soju and of course, his brother tags along.

But in true Aoi Todo fashion, he does things with a little too much gusto….he’s drunk as shit now. 

Eventually, the girls decide to break off and convene at your place for a sleepover, having had enough of the boisterousness for the night. 

You’re literally minding your business having a conversation with Mai, Maki, and Nobara while Momo and Miwa make everyone some late night noodles when suddenly a love song by Takada is being blasted from your balcony window. 

“This that…?” Miwa squeaks, clearly caught off guard. 

It definitely is. The flow of the cursed energy, Takada blasting, there’s no questioning who the hell is outside of your window. 

Nobara already has her phone out to document the moment, the Zenin sisters are snickering as they stare at you, Momo is actually floored. Miwa…beyond floored. 

“You have so much shit to tell us.” Nobara laughs. 

“Yea, what did that happen? You and Todo?” 

“NOW apparently!” You whisper frantically. “What do I do–” 

“TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IN APARTMENT B347, THIS IS FOR YOU!” 

You’re literally shoved outside to confront a drunk Aoi Todo singing along to his idol as Yuuji holds a Bluetooth speaker in the air next to him. 

“You guys…” 

“Y/N I WANNA MARRY YOU, REMEMBER THIS MOMENT WHEN IT’S TIME TO TELL OUR FUTURE KIDS HOW WE MET–” 

“Please come inside!” You hiss. 

“DO YOU SHARE THESE SAME SENTIMENTS OF LO–” 

“Yes, for the love of god, I love you too, but please come inside before I get evicted.” 

“SUCCESS, BROTHER!”

SHIU KONG 

 Horny. That’s it. 

You’re with him at some fancy restaurant dressed to the nines for a business dinner with colleagues of his. 

Every person at the table is shady at very best. Hell, yourself included. 

But there are no thoughts of right and wrong when a tipsy Shiu whose lips taste like the smoothest, finest whiskey assault your own as he thrusts into you vigorously from behind. 

“Good girl. I knew you’d get us that deal…you’re too damn pretty for anyone to say no to, sweetheart.” He purrs into your ear, words slightly slurred. 

Your hands grip the edge of the counter tightly, letting out a breathy laugh in between hushed moans. 

“How is it that you fuck better after a few drinks in you?” You tease, earning you a deep chuckle. 

“Because you’re my woman and I love you. And I wanna keep doing this with you, living this life with you. No matter how messed up it is.” He pants against your ear. 

© all rights reserved to fushic0re — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.

[mmayall]

ensemble square top businessmen have som fun timez after work hours

cw alcohol

[macfrog]

little aphrodite sex on fire chapter nine

the amount i had to write jean-marc in this chapter makes me nauseous. anywho. these two heal my soul and make me weep. please enjoy a little look back at the ceo's experience of paris.

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: we're going back to paris. this time, through joel's eyes.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalance of power dynamic, alcohol consumption, ostentatious flaunting of wealth (eat the rich i say), sugardaddy!joel, softdom!joel, oral (f and m receiving), daddy kink, praise kink, cursing, angst & pining, and...well. the ceo falls in love.

word count: 7.5k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💚

He wasn’t even sure you’d say yes when he asked. Thought you’d find it a bit much, flying halfway across the world just for one lousy meeting. He had what he’d say when you turned him down in mind, already: Sure, yeah, no problem. No, I just thought – Yeah. ‘s alright. I’ll bring you back som’ as a souvenir.

But you didn’t.

Oh, yeah? you’d said. Your face seemed to light – humored, impressed even. It made Joel feel braver. Reassured. You’ve a habit of doing that to him.

Mhm, he replied, chewing on the sub you’d ordered him after his conference call. He can’t remember what he promised Human Resources he’d have done within the hour. You walked in as he was saying it, and – well. Two days, he said, swallowing, Saturday Sunday.

And are you gonna make me take minutes while you meet with this Jean-Marc? You wiggled your fingers as you said it, letting the name drip through your lips in some kind of dreamy song. I don’t make the flight back unless they’re typed up by the time we leave? That the catch?

No catch. You don’t even gotta come to the meetin’.

I don’t have to –? Wow, Miller. You’re spoiling me, no? You kicked your leg, one knee hooked over the other. Your skirt shrinking up your thigh.

You were sat in the chair on the right, opposite his desk. You always sit in that one – and Joel’s still trying to figure out why. The working theory so far is that it’s at a good angle to watch the city below, and at the same time, see exactly who comes and goes in and out of the office during lunch.

But there has to be more to it, he thinks. He suspects. Martha’s desk is, like, five feet from yours. She spends her lunches in the conference room with Deb, shaking salads doused in balsamic vinegar and sharing cross-floor gossip. They invite you every day, and almost every day, you turn them down in favor of his shuttered office, the muted swish of cars on the street, the mock gasps and clutch of invisible pearls when you share that same fifth-floor gossip with him over the desk.

You’d been talking while he’d been thinking about the damn chair. He hadn’t heard a word of it. Huh? he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

Ain’t never listenin’, you muttered, peeling the damp paper back from your own sub.

Say it again, Joel said. Was just making a mental note to book dinner for us over there.

You scoffed, licking mayo from the corner of your lips. Why you making mental notes for anything? That’s what you pay me for.

And you were right – it is what he pays you for. Pays you to be his shadow, his right-hand man, his eyes and his ears and his entire brain, some days.

But lately – he doesn’t know. It’s different.

Truth be told, he has no idea what’s gotten into him. Looking at you the way he is. You’ve fucked around twice, now, and both times have been…nothing short of fucking amazing. Both times, Joel’s thought he might come within the first two minutes. Pushing inside your velvet walls, watching the way you roll forward, hearing the lewd moans pour across your lips.

He’s always thought you were attractive. It’s pretty fucking hard to ignore. Physically, sure – the look of your body, the way you know how to dress it. And the prettiest, softest face he’s ever seen. You can win him over in any discussion without a word, just by fluttering your eyelashes at him.

But you’re more than that. He thinks of you both as friends, maybe something more. Something deeper. It’s in the glances you steal, the silent lines tossed between one another. The way you read one another like an open book. Sometimes, he wonders if you actually can read his mind.

You’re intelligent, you’re funny, and you’re a hard fucking worker. Always on time, always seemingly juggling thirty things at once, and never letting him down. Nothing is too much, it seems; everything just is as it is. And he likes that about you. Simple. No baggage.

The morning of the flight, you send him a voice note telling him you’re downstairs. “And I ain’t lugging two cases up to the top floor only to bring ‘em back down when we’re leaving, Mr. CEO.”

He’s striding past Martha for the elevator before he’s even done listening to the message.

“Uh-uh!” she chirps, dashing over to slip between the brass doors behind him.

Joel sighs under his breath.

“I know better than to rely on you to remember all this stuff,” she says, holding up a file he’d asked her to put together for the trip.

She’s right not to – he’d probably leave that file in the car, or put it down somewhere and walk off without it. You’re the only one who can be trusted with it – with anything. You’re good at your job. And yet, he resents the fact that Martha’s about to lump you with even a fraction of responsibility for the next four days.

So when the Rolls pulls off and Martha is nothing but a pin-sized silhouette through the back window, still waving from the sidewalk, he pinches the folder in two fingers and tosses it to his left hip. Out of your grasp. You smile, eyes rolling, and pop your earbuds in. Joel breathes a laugh, eyes dipping again to skim read some contract on his phone. His hand is locked around your thigh. He likes that you just let him do it now.

Likes a lot of things about you. Likes that you put your music on shuffle, and then skip eleven tracks until you find one you actually want to listen to. Likes that your fingers twirl around the light chain of your necklace – the way they do anytime you’re nervous – and when he asks if you’re alright, you bareface lie to him and squeak, Yep.

Likes the glow the morning sun casts on you when you emerge from the car on the tarmac, pooling in the dimples on your cheeks, bright gold. The way you tug on the loose cotton of your sweatpants, bashful. Shy. And he likes that, when he follows you up the steps to the plane cabin, your awestruck expression lasts all of five seconds before that quick wit kicks straight back in.

“Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution,” you tell him, and Joel silently says his fifth thankful prayer this morning that he thought to ask you and not Martha.

He watches you settle into a seat by the window, watches you crane your neck to survey the view from the tiny circle of thick glass. He thinks about what he’d do if you were alone right now, if there weren’t crew slowly filing into the jet behind him.

He floats the idea. Tells you about the bedroom up back, tells you it’s cozy. You read between the lines just like he wants you to. And when the plane’s in the air, you follow after him.

You fall into bed together the same way you do when you arrive at the hotel. A tangle of limbs, of sweat and stuffy plane air. He sleeps the soundest he has in months – years, maybe. Pushed off by the sound of your breathing, the dip in the mattress by his side. The warmth which radiates from your body, the soft brush of your hand against his.

He puts it down to the travelling – the eight-hour flight, the plushy super king waiting on the other side. He puts it down to the way the world feels different, this side of the Atlantic. The privacy he feels come over the two of you, like sneaking into the next room: your voices muffled through the wall, your movements reduced to vague shadows beneath the door.

He watches you through sleepy eyes as you prance around the suite in the morning, twirling in and out of the bathroom while you get ready for the day. He wonders if this is what you’re like every day – if you spend your Monday mornings beaming like a little kid, toothbrush hanging lopsided from the corner of your mouth, white bubbles lining your gums. He wonders why he’s wondering. Why a part of him wants to see that version of you, too.

This version – now following his lead down Avenue Montaigne, doe-eyed and wonderstruck – is over all too soon. He’s dragged from her, from you, before he’s ready to leave.

His phone vibrates in his pocket right as he’s leading you out of some ridiculously overpriced jewelers – an irritating reminder of his meeting in an hour’s time.

“Fuck,” he whispers, holding you steady as you spin around to glimpse at the baroque building. “Hey, pretty girl,” he squeezes your hand, “I got some bad news.”

Your bottom lip pouts, eyes gleaming. It’s enough, he thinks, to convince him to stick around. If you asked him to, he’d text Jean-Marc right now and tell him to fuck off. But you tell him to go, tell him you’ll meet him back at the hotel once he’s done and you’re tired. With a teasing smirk and a tiny wave, you see him off down the cobbled street. He watches from the back window as you set off again, heading towards another iron-gated store.

Denis pulls up alongside the towering hotel, totters around the car to meet Joel as he stretches out of the Maybach. The square-jawed man stands with his hands linked, and nods enthusiastically when Joel thanks him.

“The shopping – I will take it back to the hotel,” he assures his boss, a wide smile on his lips.

He’s a good guy, Denis. He’s chauffeured Joel to five of these meetings over as many years – he knows the drill by now. Knows it’ll be a couple hours and a few whiskeys before he gets another call to pick him up.

His nodding doubles, more obedient when Joel asks him to make sure he listens for your call. “You mind stayin’ nearby that part of town?” he asks. “Just so – when she’s done, y’know…”

“Not at all,” Denis says, flapping two palms to the ground. Swatting away Joel’s concern, his worrying, his missing you.

He replies, a little absentmindedly, passing by the head of gray hair with a distant smile. “Thanks, Denis. See you later.”

Five meetings, five trips over here to be pestered by some obnoxious little man in an obnoxious little robe and obnoxious little loafers, and still, Joel never knows what to expect. He strides beneath the golden archway entrance into a domed lobby, every surface spotless and shining; marble counter in the center with a symmetrically-suited clerk sat behind.

She stands and smiles politely to Joel as he approaches, recognizing him with a flutter of her eyelashes. He feels the absence of your arm on his, an ache at his elbow.

“Monsieur,” she croons, pale fingers reaching for the telephone. She whispers something softly into the receiver and then nods, folding her painted lips together as she places the handset back into its cradle. With a floating hand aimed at the elevator behind her, she says, sultry and dreamlike, “He is ready for you.”

Joel fights an eyeroll with every fiber of his being. He wanders round the circular desk, bunches his shoulders into the tight elevator, and jams his thumb into the button marked P.

The doors shudder open when he reaches the top floor. He steps out slowly, waiting for the Frenchman to pounce on him like some kind of wild cat. Wouldn’t put it past him, Joel thinks. As he’s scanning the room, counting the six bouquets dotted around, there’s a single clap from behind the veiled curtains. A silhouette out on the terrace.

Jean-Marc swings between the sheer white, calling out to the lonely figure in his entryway. “If it isn’t my favorite American,” he sings, taking Joel by the arms and squeezing roughly. “How lovely to see you again, Joelie. Please, come.”

The sunlight blinds Joel when he steps out into it, peering over the city skyline under low brows. Jean-Marc is already sat at the top of a thin, glass table, pouring golden whiskey into a square glass and scooping two bulky ice cubes in. The nectar swirls around when the glass is held out to Joel, the ice tittering as he accepts it.

The table, a rocky terrain of pain au chocolat and brioche, pools of citrus spreads and dishes of butter. Joel keeps his hands to himself as Jean-Marc slaps jam onto a croissant, bronze flakes fluttering all over the table as he attempts to regale Joel with some investment into a casino.

“Riccardo says it is too much; I told him to go to hell. We will double the cost of the place, I know it, Joel. We have the eye for things like these, men like you and I, hm?”

Men like you and I, Joel thinks, lips tilting. He balances the glass on his thigh, watches the ice cubes turn over themselves. He thinks of you, thinks of the man you see him as. Thinks how tall he stands against the man Jean-Marc must see sat opposite him right now.

Thinks how rotten, and ugly, and how small the latter is. How easily you and your words could crumble him. All show, all sitting on perfect terraces with pretentious dickbags disguised as friends, drinking pissy whiskey with a plastered smile on his lips.

How comical it all is – the sound of yapping across the tabletop, These idiots would pay millions for manure if you painted it golden, the sprawling sheets of green-leafed plants, the headache-inducing flowers, the buckled loafers and the signet ring catching the sun.

How much he misses the weight of you on his hips, forearms flat on his chest, ear against his heart. The sound of your laughter lilting in his ear. The rosy smell of your skin and the feel of your eyelashes, featherlight on his cheek. He feels the distance between the two of you like elastic strung apart, stretching thinner and thinner, weaker and frailer, ready to snap into two halves at any moment.

“Anyways,” Jean-Marc says, lifting the wine bottle shakily. It clinks brashly against the lip of his glass, a painful scrape. Joel wonders if he’s already halfway to hammered. “Tell me how you’ve been, Joelie.”

Joel tells him he’s been fine. Business is fine. Money is fine. Company’s doing fine. Everything’s fucking fine. Easiest answer to avoid further questioning, to satiate Jean-Marc’s constant thirst for news, or intel, or just plain gossip.

He slips up, though. Makes the one colossal mistake he spent all morning hoping and praying and drilling directly into his brain that he wouldn’t.

Jean-Marc asks how his flight was, sticking the damp end of a cigarette to his bottom lip.

Joel says, “Good, yeah. We got here, maybe, ten o’clock last night.”

And Jean-Marc’s eyebrows arch. His hands freeze, match held against the striker strip. “We?” he asks, white stick flapping between his teeth.

“Uh,” Joel shifts in his seat. Your gentle wave, the corners of your lips, the toss of hair over your shoulder. It’s as though Jean-Marc can see his thoughts played on a reel before him, the haste with which Joel attempts to wipe you from his own mind. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “Jerry ‘n Lisa. Len and Pol.”

The Frenchman’s eyes narrow, a grin pulling on his pink lips. “We,” he says again, whipping the match roughly against the strip. Speaking into cupped hands, a cloud of white billowing from his leathery fingers, he murmurs, “Joel brought company with him to Paris, yes? Who is the lucky tourist? Une petite amie?”

Joel’s tongue dabs at the sickly wash of whiskey on his lips. He thinks to grab the fucker by the throat, throttle him until the idea of you rattles from his skull, spilling back into Joel’s safe hands where you belong.

He almost fucking lies. Almost says it’s just Martha, or Drew, or his fucking mother. But Jean-Marc is like a rat, scurrying along after a source of water. He’ll find it in the end. They always do.

He breathes your name, reluctant to let it go. Jean-Marc cocks his head, leans in, a swirling snake of silky smoke lifting from the cigarette between his fingers. Joel repeats it, voice louder, but flatter. Breaks it into too many syllables. Lets his host hear every bite of annoyance.

“She’s my assistant,” he says, and Jean-Marc claps again.

“Your assistant! How wonderful. And where is she today? She is not…” his fingers circle the air, disturbing the trail of smoke, “…assisting you?”

“Gave her the afternoon off.” Joel lifts his glass to his lips. The geometric shape amplifies his voice, bass like the growl of a bear. “Busy couple days. She deserves some downtime.”

He hates the sound of your name as it peels from Jean-Marc’s tongue. Like a hangnail, the residue a gorge of bloody, torn skin. Your name is Joel’s favorite sound, he realizes now, and the way this little asshole keeps butchering it boils an anger so hot and so quick under his skin that he’s not sure he can hold it at bay.

It’s not as if he owns you or your name – far from it. He has no desire to be anything more than a placeholder: somewhere for you to slot your hand, rest your head, curl your body against. Still, he feels a direct protectiveness over you right now. An impulse to stand in front of Jean-Marc’s tiny figure, arms wide, stopping him from picturing you or learning about you or meeting you.

Which is, of course, exactly what the little fucker suggests.

A wet pff sound as he rids his mouth of bitter smoke, and he offers to host breakfast in the morning.

“No, no, we, uh –” Joel’s hands are up, like pleading with the man, whiskey kissing the lip of its glass, “– you don’t have to – Look, Jean-Marc, I’m sure you’re busy enough with all –”

“Nonsense!” Jean-Marc waves a hand. Ash sprinkles down the cuff of his robe. “It would be my pleasure. Shall we say, ten?”

Joel grumbles, eye following the flight of a bird in the distance. What are you doing right now? Are you back in the suite, trying on the outfit you picked out together? Are you still wandering down the streets, drinking up the lavish city like a perfect little cocktail of bliss and wonder?

And what the fuck does he have to do to excuse himself, to come find you, to wrap his arms around you and never let you leave his side again?

He feels idiotic. Juvenile. Like a stupid little teenager, pining for his junior year girlfriend. The feelings all sharp and brittle, prodding his heart roughly anytime he thinks too hard on them.

When he looks back to Jean-Marc – the cigarette tearing closer and closer to his fingers, an expectant smile on his lips – he concedes.

“Ten is fine,” he says, and suddenly, the sky casts over.

You’re on the terrace when he finally returns to the hotel room. Head aching from the alcohol and forced conversation, he drags himself over to you.

The sight of you, hair lifting in the breeze, the sweet smell and soft touch under his hands feels like the pouring of honey on a raw throat, like cool water lapping at his waist on a scorching day. And he needs more, and he feels the saliva pool beneath his tongue, and you’re touching him and talking to him and all he can think about is replacing his saliva with you – with every drop of you that you’ll lend him.

You follow his every request – parting your legs, making room for him between them, opening yourself to him like coming home after work, like sinking deep into your shared bed, like pushing your salt-slicked fingers on his tongue and chanting taste me taste me love me need me.

Petals opening, shards of orange separating. His cock throbs in his pants when he feels the circle of your hips against his jaw, the taste of sweet, sweet nectar spilling from your center. His clothes still smell of the smoke from Jean-Marc’s weedy lips; the sweat on his skin borne from three hours sat in the sun, dehydrated by whiskey, discussing money and gold and then money again.

He doesn’t want to fuck you here, like this. As that puny, pompous prick he’s felt like since the second he wandered through the Frenchman’s hotel doors. He can’t. You deserve him clean, new. You deserve the Joel you think he is – yours. Affected by your touch alone, moved by the gleam in your eye. You deserve him, Joel decides, on your terms.

And that same night, stood in the same spot, dregs of sunlight replaced by molten moonlight, staring at the dazzling Eiffel Tower against the deep blue sky – that same night, when he turns and clocks the silhouette of your body just feet from him, he realizes that this is it.

He’s sure he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, standing in the dim light, your fingers playing with the bust of the silk robe draped over your body. The jewelry on your neck catching the light like his own private attraction, his own little spectacle. Just for him.

He forgets any other version of himself. Shakes them off like seawater flying from his body as he emerges from the ocean. Venus stood before him; hair lifting in the light, palm over her breast. And he doesn’t notice the departure of those old versions; doesn’t feel the way they tear from his skin. His eyes are glued on you, only you, everything around the two of you reducing to dark matter. There is only his awestruck gaze pointed to your radiant form, as though the scene sits alive in the eye of Botticelli or Michelangelo.

Baby, he whispers, and you move forward, dragging him with you under a wave of lust and rebirth.

He stirs the next morning to the feeling of a weight shifting across his body, two divots in the mattress either side of his waist. Something nuzzling, warm and featherlight, into the nook below his earlobe. Wet kisses trailing down his neck.

There’s no weight of you in the crook of his arm anymore. He’s scooping thin air. He lifts it, and his palm meets the baggy cotton of his own T-shirt, draped over your body, draped over him.

A laugh brushes between his lips. “Mornin’, darlin’,” he croaks, voice still low and broken.

“Hi,” you whisper back, voice like silk and sugar and tufts of lustrous clouds.

He opens his eyes and you’re hovering over him. Tip of your nose circling his, hips light as air across his own.

You look so fucking cute, he thinks. He’d take what he had last night – you, dripping in black lace and bound by satin straps – every night for the rest of his life, if he could. If you’d grant him it. But, this. This.

You – in Joel’s clothes and nothing else. You – the curl of your hair now a lazy wave, the smoky afterthought of your half-removed makeup. The smell of sex still lingering on your skin, the taste of Joel still home on your tongue. Each part of you laced with a part of him.

You – holding yourself up over him, less than an inch apart, and all Joel thinks to do is wrap his arms around your back and let you drop onto his body; his strong, solid body, which accepts the weight of you with only so much as a tiny grunt over his lips when you fall on top of him.

You giggle. He swears he feels butterflies in his stomach. He prays you don’t feel them, fluttering purposefully against your ribcage.

“You’re an idiot,” you mumble into his collarbone, words curled by the smile on your lips. You suck a mark into the hot skin, teeth and flesh and sel et sucre, and then push off from his chest, nudging his thighs wider with your knee.

Your tongue drags a wet trail down his chest, from solid sternum to suppler stomach, following the thickening of hair the lower you move. You leave wet kisses along the crests of his hipbones, the gentle slope of skin leading you to the wide base of his cock, already stiff.

Joel’s breath hitches when your tongue sweeps across it. Your eyes lift and lock with his, fingers taking a heavy hold of him. He smiles, tongue sitting patiently behind his teeth.

“Go on, angel,” he nods, “put that pretty little mouth on daddy.”

You obey instantly, as hungry for it as he is, your tongue swiping from the base of him up, curling around as you reach the head. Swollen, gleaming, slit dripping with slick precome that you lick with just the tip of your tongue and send a roll of pleasure across every nerve in Joel’s body.

He falls back, hands searching for the back of your skull as your lips sink further down down down, tightening around the smooth skin, stopping only when they meet the tuft of hair decorating his dick. His tip pushes against the back of your throat. His head begins to spin.

His back arches, hands anchored on your head, holding you steady as you bob up and down. His shoulders push heavy into the mattress, tummy sucks in until the points of his ribcage mold through his skin. And, oh – you’re so soft with it, so wet and so warm and so good with your tongue, kitten licks over his tip, wet fist wrapped tight around the width of him.

You lift your hand and meet his halfway up his stomach, fingers intertwining, Joel’s knuckles instantly whitening.

“Doin’ so good, baby,” he groans, gasping when your throat constricts around him again.

You gag, choking with a wet grunt, but you never pull away. A quick pause, a heavy breath from your nostrils, and your movements resume.

“’s alright,” Joel coos, fingers rubbing against the back of your hand, “you got it. Atta-girl, fuck.”

His hips begin to lift, slowly jerking up into your mouth. He looks down, loosens the grip you have on his hand only to run his thumb delicately across your cheek, dabbing lightly at the tears in the corner of your eye.

You suck hard around him, cheeks hollowing, tongue flattening to his underside to let him fuck your mouth – a rhythm of sopping sounds and heartbeat hums from your throat. He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

“Just like that,” he tells you, and you blink up at him. Moans muffled by the mouthful of cock, saliva and sex slipping from your swollen lips. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. You’re such a good girl – you want daddy to give it to you?”

Mhm, you mumble into the warmth of his cock, the vibration of your throat on the eager skin enough to send Joel over the fucking edge. He throws his head back, lifts his hips up to you, and fills your mouth at the same rate he fills the room with the sound of his orgasm.

You take every last drop. You’re so good for him. Once he stills, once the screaming in his ears subsides, once the room slowly desaturates back to normal, a faded, blurry normal – he sits up and hooks his hands under your arms, pulling you up into him.

You collapse against his chest for the second time this morning, giggling and licking the last of his come from your mouth. Joel guides your jaw towards his, lips meeting in the middle, and licks the salty aftertaste from your tongue.

He rolls you both over, your thighs sitting safe on his hips.

“I know,” you sigh, head rolling against the curve of his arm beneath, “I know. You don’t gotta tell me.”

“Tell you what, angel?” he asks, one eyebrow lifting.

“Best head you ever had. I know.”

He scoffs, lips finding the hinge of your jaw. You giggle into his ear, a sound softer than birds cooing at the break of dawn, sweeter than the first bite of ripe fruit – the sharp taste bursting across his tongue and coating his teeth in sugar, numbed by the holy coaxing of feathered doves.

“You’re good with it, I’ll give you that,” he murmurs, and the giggle erupts into a laugh which fuels him enough to follow your roll out of bed, tear his shirt from your shoulders, and slip into the shower behind you, kneeling before you when you turn to look.

Joel’s second encounter with Jean-Marc in as many days, goes about as well as the first.

He balls his fists as he introduces the pair of you, watches like a caged and bound animal as Jean-Marc’s eyes loop all around your face, your shoulders, the pull of your dress around your waist.

He knows he’s being quiet. The glances you keep stealing at him tell him you know it, too. He wishes there was something he could say, something his lips might be able to carve into a neat little sentence. Tongue sanding the jagged edges of what he’d really like to say into a joke, a quip to ease the tension you so obviously feel.

But he can’t. His tongue isn’t blunt, isn’t defensive. It’s sharp like the kiss of venom, protective and aggressive. He knows he’d do better to hold it tight between his teeth.

The best he finds himself able to do is keep a heavy hand on your thigh, let you wrap your fingers around his own, squeeze you in place of whispering in your ear.

You hold your own, up against Jean-Marc. He knew you would. He learned less than a week into working with you, not to underestimate you. Your quick tongue, the million and one observations hidden behind the flash of a frown. He knows you can read Jean-Marc – probably better than he can, having known the guy ten years.

It doesn’t make it feel any safer, though. Luring you into a lion’s den. He knows you’ll make it out alive, but he can’t stand the thought of the claw marks in your skin.

That feeling washes over him again – that urge scored so deep into his bones that it hits marrow, to put himself between you and anything which might come to harm you. He swallows it down with the acidic sting of orange juice – slots it somewhere safe in his chest until he can assess whatever the fuck it is. Whatever the fuck it means.

His hand tightens around your leg when Jean-Marc mutters something to his assistant. Joel decides against asking you what it means, for fear he’ll tear the Frenchman limb from limb, strips of satin robe strung across the paved patio.

The assistant – tall, thin, looming over you like impending doom on legs – offers to show you the view of the city. And as Jean-Marc settles into your empty chair, the image of that torn satin robe shunts closer towards reality.

“I wonder if you might indulge me,” Jean-Marc slithers, pinching thin air with one hand and resting the other on the back of Joel’s chair.

“I wonder,” Joel mutters, finger tapping angrily on the table.

“She is a wonderful character. Beautiful, and very smart, I can see. I would be crazy not to ask, you must understand, Joel –”

He can’t help himself. He bites before Jean-Marc lays the trap. His head shakes. “She’s – she’s –”

And suddenly there isn’t a single word in the English dictionary worthy of describing you. Not a single combination of letters, of sounds, of syllables and phonetics that would do you justice.

He settles for, “I wouldn’t be anywhere without her.” It feels fucking redundant. It is fucking redundant.

Jean-Marc nods. “And you know that I see the value in things, hm?”

Joel dead-eyes his opponent, gaze narrowing. “What are you sayin’, Jean-Marc?”

“Well,” he shrugs, gesturing to the shadow pointing out the Eiffel Tower, “Paul is fantastic. Dedicated, hardworking. But it is a lot, for one person. I am sure you can understand, being that you have two assistants yourself.”

“And you wanna take one of ‘em out from under me?”

Jean-Marc chuckles, shaking his head. Tutting. Teeth grinding. He senses the bitter tone, hears the distortion of words squeezing through gritted teeth. “Not at all, my dear Joelie, not at all.”

Placating. It pisses Joel off more.

“I simply would like to raise the question of: would she like to be…taken?”

“Taken?”

“Hired. By me.”

The smug grin which pulls over taut lips incites Joel with a desire to punch the luminous veneers from their gummy holders. His fist balls again, nails digging harshly into his palm. He swallows roughly.

“She seems…she seems happy enough where she is to me.” He glances over, catches your eye for a fleeting second before Paul’s ghostly hand perches on your shoulder and turns your attention away again. Resigned, he adds, “You would have to ask her. I ain’t speakin’ for her.”

Jean-Marc’s leer only grows. “Ask her,” he repeats, nodding. “That is an idea.” He pushes out of his chair with a squeal of wood across stone, calling to the party, “Why don’t we take a drive? There is so much of the city I would love to show you – both of you, of course.”

Before he knows it, Joel’s on his feet, too, panic hammering through every muscle in his body. He tosses some half-assed excuse to the breeze; a half-truth, a desperate attempt to pull you away from the beady eyes and sharp claws of Jean-Marc and his assistant, and back over to his side. He takes your arm and scatters, pulling you past four, five, six bursting bouquets, your heels clicking along the polished floor, your head spinning.

He can feel the blood thrashing through his veins as the elevator arrives back in the lobby. Can see the shadow of Paul the assistant still over your shoulder, the place his hand sat like charcoal on white linen. He feels red hot, anger mixed with panic mixed with a word he hasn’t let slip just yet. He covers it by answering your questions shakily, diverting the ones about the conversation on the terrace.

And then you’re back in the safety of Denis’s car. You’re back to being on your own, together. No third set of eyes watching your every move, studying you like you’re some doll to be observed, or worse. You’re touching him again, holding his arm, caressing his cheek. His breathing eases, his body relaxes into the backseat of the Maybach.

You tell him you’d like to see the Louvre. So Joel takes you to see the Louvre.

Joel Miller has never been in love.

He’s said it, sure. Said it plenty to Avery.

G’night, love you.

I’m so proud of you, sweet; I love you so much.

Thanks for makin’ dinner, babe, I love you.

It began to take the form of breath, passing over his tongue with as much ease and instinct as his lungs would push out air. She looked at him a certain way – he’d say he loved her. They’d talk about the future – he’d tell her he loved her. They fought, over his working hours or the interest rates at different banks or whose family to spend Christmas with – and he’d remind her he loved her.

He meant every single one. He did, truly, love her. He loved her auburn hair, the way it’d sweep over her shoulders like a wave of fire. He loved the way she would pause to take thirty photos of the sky at sunset. He loved how homely she was, how simple and warm she could be. Her recipe books lining the shelves in her kitchen. Her pajamas folded neatly at the foot of her bed, waiting for her at the end of the day.

He loved her enough to spend four years with her, a life split nearly down the middle. Never seeping into one another. His side of the bed, and hers. His items in the fridge, and hers. His fucking bathrobe, and hers.

But right now, standing in a jam-packed room, maneuvering awkwardly around museum guides and backpacked tourists, avoiding the knee-height glass barriers and dodging fucking selfie sticks – Joel knows: he has never been in love.

Not until the moment he turns from some headless bust to search the room – the dark marble walls and great, carved arches; the white Parisian sky illuminating everything in a pale glow. Not until he catches a glimpse of you amongst the sea of bodies – stood before the Venus de Milo, staring up in wonder at Aphrodite like she’s the first thing in the world you’ve ever truly seen. The gentle lean of her body, the low sling of marble fabric around her waist, the soft dimple of her navel.

The way your eyes scan every detail of her form – every fold draped over her thigh, ever chisel mark and chip in her torso. The round swell of her breasts and the wavelike swirl of her hair. Barely blinking, afraid to lose sight of her for even a second.

Joel’s never been in love. Not until this very moment.

He only turned to make some quip about…well, now he can’t fucking remember, can he? Something irrelevant. Something so mundane, so meaningless, so dull that he wishes he could take back every word he ever said to you and use the breath more wisely – use the time spent making stupid jokes and work orders, just to look at you. Watch you, like he is right now. Every other thought, every worry and concern drop weightlessly from his mind, with such ease that he doesn’t feel the loss.

Your fixed stare up at the statue’s set face, the slow pacing of your heels, ankles crossing over one another as you pivot around her. And the look of wonder on your face – as if Joel instantly recognizes eight-year-old you, thumbing through the pages of the first art book she was ever gifted, copying the curled hair and round shoulders of the marble goddess in a pencil sketch.

Haloed by the towering windows behind you, arms crossed over your chest. Lips melting from a content smile to agape, and then pinning back in a smile again.

And suddenly – he can’t remember the flame of hair over his ex’s shoulder. Doesn’t remember a single meal she ever cooked for him. In the blink of an eye, he realizes he doesn’t want a life neatly split anywhere.

He realizes that his life, the way he wants it, was always meant to be meshed with yours. Intertwined so tightly that there is no his and hers. Last night at dinner, you couldn’t decide between the bœuf bourguignon and the confit de canard, so Joel ordered both – as well as what he wanted – and the two of you picked at three separate meals. Holding out forkfuls to feed one another, comparing and judging them like professional chefs on a fucking cooking show.

Back at the hotel, you fell asleep in his arms. Your head nestled under his chin; your arms curved around his shoulders. In the center of the bed, laying at an angle. When he got up this morning, the robe he threw around himself smelled like your perfume. The terrycloth on your shoulders, tinged with the weak scent of whiskey.

None of it – not the relationship you had before any of this happened, not the strolling over one boundary to the next, not the blurring of lines between colleague, and friend, and lover – has been neat. None of it has made any sense. And maybe that’s why he fucking trusts it so much.

Joel spent the first two weeks after you fooled around in his office swearing he wasn’t that guy. Staring himself down in the mirror with a balled fist, a pointed finger that said, You don’t sleep with your fucking assistant, you idiot.

And now, standing opposite you in a crowded room and only seeing you – he knows. He finally gets it.

He loves you. He – no, fuck.

He doesn’t just love you.

He’s on his knees, dagger through his heart –

blood spilling all over the pristine floor –

pathetic and adolescent in its nature –

butterflies tearing through his stomach as destructive as a hurricane –

in love with you.

He thinks to say it. To wander over and kiss your shoulder, hook his chin into your collarbone like he did in the Dolce and Gabbana store, and whisper, Hey. I love you. Did you know that?

But he knows that’d be fucking insane. Knows you’d probably unstick yourself from him and back up, tripping in your step. Paris ruined.

He knows he’d probably get so far as curving around your back and then bottle it, anyway. The words would die in his throat. You’d just lean back into him, none the wiser. You’d still make his heart pound.

Pound the way it does when you reach for his wrist and drag him off into the next room, and the next, and the next. And with every piece of art your eyes fall upon, another fragment of your soul is revealed to Joel. The depth of da Vinci, the color of Bruyère. The scale of Veronese and the beauty of Canova.

And with every part revealed, a desire blooms in him to learn the next part. Understand you; know you better than he knows himself. See you, the way he’s seeing you right now.

He takes his ex’s lead, when you’re stood in front of the Mona Lisa. All those fucking sunset photos, like she was afraid to forget what it looked like. The thought becomes urgent, pushing past every other meaningless word in his head.

He taps you on the shoulder, says your name lightly. When you turn, he’s already holding the phone up, watching your delayed motions through the screen. Please don’t let me forget this. Don’t let me forget you, like this.

“Smile,” he says, and you do.

“You’re cheesy,” you tell him, wandering off from the painting.

He’s still staring at the photo. At your dimpled cheeks, your red lips. Staring at your eyes, seeing a new glint in them that wasn’t there before. Like eight-year-old you smiling back at him, trusting him, knowing him.

Joel breathes, “She’s beautiful,” taking your waist in a steady arm to guide you out of the room.

You misunderstand him. He knows it. He doesn’t correct you.

She’s beautiful – the Mona Lisa. But she only became beautiful the second you laid eyes on her. The second she handed you a piece of your soul, the transaction laid bare for Joel to witness. A bucket list item ticked, or simply your childhood self, stood before one of her own seven wonders.

Everything is only beautiful after it comes into contact with you.

There’s a change in you, the morning that you leave. Something low-lying, melancholy and blue. Joel feels it under your skin, in the grip you keep on his hand the entire car ride from the hotel to the airport.

“You good?” he asks, walking up the steps of the jet, shelled around you. Safe, with him, safe with him.

You nod, but you’re watching the Maybach roll off, rounding the corner back to the airport. The same way you watch the city disappear beneath the clouds as the plane takes off.

The same way you glance over to him, your glossy eyes twinkling, pearly tears swimming across your waterline. Joel gets it. Figures he feels much the same.

He leads you slowly back through to the dark cabin bedroom, where you peel the shirt and sweats from your body. He watches from the bed, arm outstretched and inviting you to burrow into his side, curl around his body, loop your legs through his. His own little Aphrodite, the curves and the dimples and all the beauty to go with her.

He sinks his shoulder to let you nuzzle into him, let your slow-closing eyes follow his movements like rocking you back and forth to sleep. You link your arm through his, locking your bodies tight together. Joel slows his typing down, moves gentler, so you can fall asleep without being nudged too much by his arm.

You mumble something into the sleeve of his tee. He pauses. Looks down at your already closed eyes, your parted lips.

“What’d you say, baby?”

You take a deep, slow breath. Already sleeping, he thinks. And then, in the sigh that escapes from your mouth, you whisper to him.

“Please don’t ever leave.”

[leaentries]

Red | jack hughes

backstory - next

summary: when jack meets a bombshell of a girl, his life is bound to change.

warnings: swearing, lil bit of arrogant jack

wc: 2k+

a/n: welcome to my new series! this will follow jack and red as they navigate through the ins and outs of new love. if you have any requests or thoughts regarding jack and red, please send them in!

His world was flipped the second he met her. His Red.

Live chattering filled the dimly lit bar, as a certain chill settled in the cracks of the wooden walls. Winter did not come to play this time of year. The howling wind could still be heard over the loud voices in the room. With every creak of the front door, more frigid air rushed in, gripping whoever was near. 

Bright noses and ears scattered about the patrons, who eagerly down their alcohol in an attempt to warm up the frosted bones beneath. The old dinky clock on the back wall lamely rang as the time hit the hour. It was officially the next day, yet Jack and his team still swarmed the back left corner of the room. 

Joy was very evident to whoever gazed upon the mass of hockey players, or anyone who paid any attention to the TVs in the room. The New Jersey Devils had just won their best game thus far, winning by a complete shutout against their rivals. To say they were pumped would be an understatement. 

Strong bodies and their accompanied ladies made their way to the dance floor, leaving behind the select bachelors of the bunch. Although adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he was still riding the high of winning, Jack couldn’t help but watch as his teammates celebrated with their partners. 

The lowly sound of Nico and Dawson’s conversation echoed in and out of Jack’s ears. Now, Jack knew, regardless of how shallow it seemed, that he could easily have his choice of bunny to dance with. Truth be told, he had begun to grow tired of hooking up with random girls every weekend. 

Jack craved something deeper. He craved something real. So, there he sat, in the back booth with a beer in his hand, secretly wishing he had his own girl by his side. 

❥.

Another hour or so had passed, the clock now reading 1:15 a.m., yet the team seemed to have every intention of shutting the place down. Another round of shots was brought to the table, courtesy of Erik, causing a new rise of cheers to be heard. Jack jumped slightly, as Dawson shoved a small glass of brown liquid into his hand. 

“C’mon, man! What’s up with you?” Dawson questioned as he noticed Jack staring into the glass. Jack was quick to plaster a small, but convincing smile on his face. 

“Nothing. I’m all good, just a bit tired after the game, that’s all.” Dawson looked skeptical and opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off as Jack swiftly drank the potent liquid. 

“Atta boy, JackJack!” Dawson’s attention moved away from Jack as Luke showed him something on his phone. 

A deep sigh left Jack’s throat, easing the burning sensation. His eyes traveled around the bar, this time noting that they seemed to be the last ones left. He wanted to go home, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave as he saw how happy his team looked. 

Jack excused himself from the table, opting to go recoup in the bathroom for a few peaceful moments. Making his way towards the other side of the bar proved to be more difficult when he had drunk hockey players flinging themselves as he passed. Jack continued his way through, ignoring all of the concerned looks he got as he pushed his friends off.

He picked up his pace, practically slamming the bathroom door closed once he was inside. He let his hands rest on the sink as he attempted to even out his breathing. Jack wasn’t even completely sure why he was freaking out in the first place. It’s not like he has to be single, he has lines of women at his beck and call. 

But, there is something different about the emptiness in his chest that he just can’t seem to shake tonight. Jack turned on the faucet, gently patting his face with some cool water to help dissipate the redness covering his cheeks and neck. 

He reached over to grab a paper towel when the door slammed open. Jack turned around abruptly, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion. But what caught him off guard the most was, not the interruption, but the fact that it was a girl. In the men's bathroom. 

“Excuse me?” Jack exclaimed, visibly irritated by the girl. The girl's eyes widened, before stepping back to look at the sign on the door.

“Oh shit!” She met Jack’s eyes with an awkward laugh, “Apparently this isn’t the women's bathroom.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Great observation there, genius.” 

The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at his snappy tone. She understood her mistake, but that did not give him a reason to be rude. Before saying anything, she took into account who he was. Not that it mattered, but she did not want to start beef with Jack Hughes. 

She remained silent, her lack of response egging Jack on. 

“Look, I get it. You’re a fan, but I’m trying to have some privacy. The least you could do is respect that. You didn’t have to barge into the bathroom just to see me.” 

Oh hell no. 

It occurred in that moment, that she no longer cared who he was. The arrogance melted in waves off of him and she needed to snuff that out real fast.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talking to, but it sure ain’t me.”

Jack was taken aback by her rebuttal, not failing to note the southern twang in her voice. He then realized how insanely attractive the fuming girl was. Her flaming ginger hair fell in waves down her back, which provided a stark contrast to her bright green eyes. They were big and round, yet held so much fire. Her nose was small, yet curved up slightly, creating a slope. Jack found himself wanting to trace his fingers down it. 

He was snapped back into reality as her vibrant red lips opened once more. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I know who you are, Jack Hughes,” She mimicked, “But If I wanted to see your dick that bad, I’d have no problem getting you in my bed.” 

Jack scoffed, “Oh is that so?”

She took a few steps forward.

“It’s no secret you get around Jack,” She brought her hands around his shoulders, “Your dick is more famous than you at this point.” 

Jack would be lying if he denied the jolt that his cock made at her comment.

“You know, Red, you shouldn’t talk about my dick if you don’t plan on giving it attention.” Jack wasn’t sure what changed his mood, possibly the most sexy woman he had ever seen talking about his cock. Maybe a hookup wouldn’t be the worst thing to come of the night.

A wicked grin found its way to her full lips as she brought them to his right ear. Her body pressed against his deliciously. With a low whisper, she replied, “Like hell.” 

She pulled away quickly stepping back. Jack frowned at the loss of her warm body. His eyes gleamed longingly at the door as she made her way out without a second glance at him. 

Jack was left by himself once more, this time with a painful hard-on and thoughts of his mystery girl. 

❥.

Once he calmed himself down, Jack left the bathroom and began to make his way back to his team. He was about halfway through the building when a streak of red hair caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see her sitting at a bartop, engrossed in her laptop that sat in front of her. 

Jack acted on a whim and decided he wanted, no needed, to figure this girl out. He walked up to the bartop, sliding into the seat beside her. 

She didn’t even bother to look up, “Look Bubba, go find somewhere else to sit. I am very clearly busy.” She barked. Jack chuckled at her response. 

“Wow, Red, you’re very feisty this evening.” The girl snapped her head up, meeting Jack’s icy blue ones. She let out a huff, shaking her head slightly. 

“What? You decided to grace the common folk with your godly presence, Jacky?” She gave him a pointed look before continuing, “Also, don’t call me Red. I have a name, you know.”

“You haven’t given it.”

“You haven’t asked.”

Jack smiled. The way she manages to challenge everything he says is addicting and he wants more.

“Alright then, what’s your name?” Jack questioned, quirking his head to the side. Boy, was he more than happy to play her game. 

“Y/n.” 

“Nah, I still prefer Red.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, opting to turn her focus back to her computer. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of attention she gave. 

“Am I not entertaining enough for you, Red?” 

She looked back up from her project, turning to him. “Look, Jacky, I already told you in the bathroom, I’m not looking to hook up with you. Nor do I want to,” She sucked in a breath, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to focus on my article.”

Jack did not like the idea of giving up, so he let his curiosity get the better of him. He turned her laptop towards him, provoking protest from the red-haired girl. He was taken by surprise at the title:

A backtrack on the Devil's season: Did Jack Hughes save the team?

Jack couldn’t help but smirk, his ego rising a few notches. 

“Writing articles about me, huh? I gotta be honest with ya, Red. With the way you’ve been arguing all night, I never would have guessed you were my biggest fan.”

Y/n scoffed, a bewildered look on her face. “Ha! That’s rich.” She tugged her laptop back, “I was given this assignment, I would never write about you willingly. You’re a good player Jacky, but some of your other teammates deserve the hype too. All the major networks are too busy fawning over you, that they miss what contributions are being made by the other players. Last time I checked, it’s not just Jack Hughes on the ice.” 

Even though she was complaining about him, he couldn’t help but cling to her every word. It was captivating, how passionate she got. Especially over something that Jack’s life revolved around. 

She continued, but was cut off by Jack, “I agree with you.” 

Y/n cocked her head, “You…agree with me?” Baffled would be an understatement. She assumed Jack would be flying, boasting about being the number one topic in the NHL right now. 

“Yes, I agree. My team is just as important, we wouldn’t be winning with just me. It’s a team effort and I think more people should be writing about that. Everyone on that ice is crucial to the game, so I appreciate you seeing that.”

Everything he said was true. He truly did believe that he would be nowhere without his team, they were his family. Y/n could see the tenderness in his eyes. Against her better wishes, she found it attractive how he cared for his team.

She shook away those thoughts, “Anyways, Jacky, I am super busy finishing this article, so…” She trailed off, hoping he would get the subtle hint. She would never let on that she was enjoying their conversation. 

Jack wasn’t blind to her attempts to get him to leave but refused to go without assuring him he’d see her again. 

“I could help you,” He offered. She gave him a questioning look.

“I mean, you seem to be struggling to come up with what to write about me. So, I can help you. You can ask me any questions you want…” 

She raised an eyebrow, sensing his wanting tone, “What’s the catch?” 

“Go on a date with me.” 

She almost immediately said no, but considered what this article could do for her career. Everyone in her network wanted to write about Jack Hughes, yet somehow she was the one who managed to get stuck with the assignment. Was she willing to put up with an entire date just for the chance to get new intel no one else had? 

Y/n had hoped not, but alas, she knew what she needed to do. 

“Fine,” Jack’s eyes lit up at her compliance, “Only one date, after that we split and never talk again.”

“You got it, Red.”

[ryozakidesu]

diary of the heartbreakers;

00z series

╰┈➤ Diary of the Heartbreakers; 00z series

➸ ♡ They used to be the ones breaking hearts, but when karma comes around, suddenly the don't know what to do. Navigate through college life with your favorite idiots, and read through the Diary of the Heartbreakers.

GENRES: College AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Humour

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, drug abuse, Infidelity, Toxic relationships/characters, Heavy topics discussed, player!00z, Language and Violence.

AUTHOR's NOTE: I thought long and hard about making this a series, because of my commitment issues and I don't trust myself to commit to a writing project like this TT, But since I have story ideas for these characters, (00z) I just linked all of them together. SLOW UPDATE. Also my first time doing a series, how about that?!? I hope you guys like it!

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

╰┈➤ After You

➸ ♡ Na Jaemin had it easy. Loved by everybody, the man of everyone's dream. He's a perfect mix of a charmer and a player. Girls begged to be his, and he loved every part of it. Life used to be so fucking perfect for him. Then comes you. You're like an old book, ink fading, cover tearing, but he swears you're worth the read. Before you, life was easy. After you? He wasn't so sure.

"Break my heart, and you'll find yourself inside."

GENRE: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mature themes

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Mental Illness, Drugs/Alcohol usage, toxic!reader, fuckboy!Jaemin (but still a sweetheart)

AUTHOR's NOTE: Oh, this one's heavy. Much serious than the other stories and quite one that's holds some sensitive topics. If I get some things wrong about certain topics, please do tell me and I'll quickly correct it. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 15k

STATUS: published

╰┈➤ Yours, Inevitably

➸ ♡ To say that Lee Jeno is pretty would be an understatement. The man's gorgeous. One thing he uses to his advantage, going through college getting girls he spots his eyes on. But there's one he just couldn't get. His brother's bestfriend. You can continue and avoid your feelings for each other, but eventually, it'll happen. You were someone that stayed, a constant in his life. You might not know it, but for the years you've known Lee Jeno, he slowly became yours, inevitably.

"I should've known that it was you, because no one else made sense."

GENRE: Fluff, Angst, Humour, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Alcohol usage, Mentions of Drugs, fuckboy!Jeno, brothersbsf!reader

AUTHOR's NOTE: This story was collecting dust on my drafts for so longg! Originally I was gonna post it as a stand-alone but figured it made sense to be a part of this series. One of my faves. Also lots of other members of nct mentioned. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 13k - 15k

STATUS: published

╰┈➤ The Fine Art of Rejection

➸ ♡ Huang Renjun, the sweetie of the year, is one hard star to catch. Not as easy as his other friends, he's quite difficult to have. Although he has a fair share of affairs with girls, it is considered to be a rare occurence. But you? Oh boy were you something. You were quite head over heels over him. His friends could never understand, but you were persistent to get the boy. No matter how much he refuses your advances, Its like you found art in rejection. But to what degree can you hold it out?

"I can be everything I want, but fuck, I only wanted to be yours. Even though you couldn't be mine."

GENRE: Unrequited love, Humour, Fluff, Angst, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Language, Explicit sexual content, Alcohol Usage, cheerleader!reader, Renjun is sometimes rude lol

AUTHOR's NOTE: Actually, I wanted to write something pure fluffy for Renjun, but I figured I need to put a sprinkle (more than that actually lmao) of angst. Also my favorite plot to write. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 13k

STATUS: published

╰┈➤ Illicit Affairs

➸ ♡ Infamous for being every girl's guilty pleasure, Lee Haechan strutted through his life shamelessly. But recently, the new girl caught his eye. Im Hayeon, who he believes that would finally tame his wreckless heart. He was confident he could get the girl. And when he did, he never expected her to have baggages. For example, you, Im Hayeon's best friend. Who suddenly, sparked an idea on his pretty little head. You're trouble-- and you're making Haechan commit Illicit Affairs.

"You're making me do bad things, very, bad things. But then again, I'm no stranger in being the bad guy."

GENRE: Fluff, Angst, Humour, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Language, Explicit sexual content, Alcohol Usage, Infidelity, Haechan and reader is kind of an asshole

AUTHOR's NOTE: okay, for one, i don't condone cheating. its just for the story! also i won't tackle on it too much-- literally just for the plot. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 13k

STATUS: published

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

© ryozaki21 2023

[nevernonline]

✧.* he's not into you; hvc

synopsis: curious what the problem is in your dating life where you just can’t seem to get guys to commit fully to you beyond a second date, your work associate offers his help.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring: vernon x fem! reader.

genre: co-workers2friends2lovers (? lmao)

warning/s: mentions of substances (alcohol, weed, cig, vape etc.) swearing, very bad jokes!, sexy time (y/n has female genitalia!) pls no minors!!

word count: 6.3k

content: . non-idol idolings, some other svt members. y/n and vernon work at a bar.

note: our next stop in my fav little movie inspired writings is he's just not that into you!! a true classic in my eyes. and who better to be our male lead than bernon himself, a perfect silly goofy man. i acc tried to edit and be good?? for once.. lmao. love u xo. HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Waltzing around your co-workers behind the bar like a choreographed dance, handing out drinks to some of your familiar customers, soaking cherries in alcohol, and stuffing your tips inside of your folder for the night it was a perfect distraction from the thoughts running through your mind about that awful date you had gone on the night before. 

You were convincing yourself all the guys you’ve been out with just weren’t for you, maybe to make yourself feel better, maybe just to put blame on someone else for the reasons you can’t seem to surpass a second date. 

“Y/N, could I get two vodka martinis. One dirty and one with a twist, twice shaken please.” 

“No problem, Som.” 

Somi was one of your co-workers and someone you’ve become close friends with working with her over the course of a year when the bar first opened. standing by your side on  the busiest night of the week, the other was Vernon,  he was slightly newer and unfamiliar standing next to you behind the bar, girls flirting with him left, right and center hoping to crack open his quiet yet charming exterior. 

Taking orders upon orders your body was craving a moment to yourself, being an introvert and working in a high volume environment with the type of company that spends hundreds of dollars a night just to sit at a table and feel important takes a toll on you. 

“Vernon, would you be cool if I stepped outside for a second?” 

“Yeah, no problem. I’m good.” 

“Alright, thanks I’ll be back in five.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Nothing more than his simple answers, for the most all you know about him is he’s your age, in college not sure what major he could possibly be studying, and he lives decently close to the bar, coming in on his days off with groups of his friends to have a drink of his own made at your own hands. 

Stepping outside the employee entrance into the back of the building, feeling the cool air light up your body, you decided to light up something of your own, a small perfectly rolled cigarette wrapped up in its signature strawberry flavored paper and vanilla tobacco inside. 

Three minutes into your first break of the night, the door slid open revealing the quiet boy standing in its frame. 

“Shit. I’m sorry, I actually need your help. A big group of finance dudes came in.” 

“It’s alright, I’ll save it for later.” 

Dipping the pastel candy like cigarette into the ashtray, basically kissing it and saying you’ll see it soon, you stepped back in with Vernon to your front strolling through the back room full of fresh liquor bottles. 

“This is a weird question. But what were you smoking? It smells good. Actually, normally cigarettes make me nauseous as hell.” 

“Oh. It’s a vanilla tobacco, but my rolling papers are strawberry so it’s kind of sweeter that way.” 

“No wonder. I always thought you smelt like vanilla musk, but I knew it was something different. I just assumed it was perfume. I like it.” 

“Thanks, Vern.” 

“Yeah. Want to take the table? Or wait for them to come up to us?” 

“I’ll go.” 

“Alright.” 

Cutting around the marble countertop, trying to avoid the patrons sitting at the end of the bar. You spot the group of men wearing their fancy suit jackets, and various colors of button down tops. One of them in particular was your date from a few weeks ago. The one who left you a post it note on your nightstand to wake up to basically telling you he wouldn’t call but thanks for the fuck. 

Swilling your pride, you stayed walking towards them, now with the pretty smile usually wiped across your face lost and turned into a closed lip grin. 

“Hey, what can I get for you guys?” 

“I’ll take you with a side of bourbon on the rocks please.” 

“Clever. I’m not on the menu. Anything for you.” 

Your fingers pointed towards the rest of the helm just patiently waiting for more unusual comments and weird flirting tactics. 

Your date though, kept his head buried in his menu, avoiding making eye contact with you out of his own embarrassment making you decide to fuck with him a little in front of his annoying crowd of friends. 

“And anything for you, Chris? Jack Daniels and Coke with a splash of cherry I presume? Or are you going to write your order down on a post it note?” 

His crowd erupted in laughter, clearly aware of his tactics when he leaves girls and decides to not call them back.

He muttered back it was fine as you walked off back to Vernon watching on with a smirk on his face. 

“You know him I assume?” 

“Unfortunately I do.” 

“Can I ask how?” 

You contemplated telling him a lie, just something simple like he was an old friend or an ex-boyfriend, but in order to keep him from opening up to you, you chose the real reason. 

“Actually we went out a few weeks ago. In the morning I woke up to a note taped to my pillow saying how he wasn’t interested in seeing me anymore but thanking me for being a good fuck and being so accommodating and sexy.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“I’m not kidding.” 

“Want me to spit in his drink?” 

“Yes. But I don’t want you to lose your job. It’s alright, not the first time for me unfortunately and actually maybe one of the nicer ones.” 

“Not the first time a dude you’ve fucked wrote you a note saying he’s not into you?” 

“There’s been worse believe it or not.” 

“You’ve piqued my interest.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“How do you meet dudes like that?”

“I’m a lucky girl, now do me a favor and take these drinks to them, because if I do I’ll probably say some shit I’ll regret.” 

“Alright. What’s his name?” 

“Who?” 

“Asshole over there.” 

“Chris” 

“Cool. Thanks.” 

“Vernon why?” 

“No reason, keep working.” 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“My whole vibe is stupid, be back in a second.” 

Watching the boy out of the corner of your eye, you watched as he placed everyone’s drinks for them, reaching Christopher last, pretending to trip over his chair, spilling the alcoholic concoction over his pants. 

“Dude what the fuck?” 

“Oh shit, my bad. Let me get you a new one.” 

“Why the fuck are you so clumsy, how am I going to get a girl here when I look like I pissed myself?” 

“The girls that come in here don’t want some bitch who drinks cherry whiskey and Coke, they like real men. But I’ll be back in a second.” 

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

“You heard me, man. One second alright I’ll be back with your bitch drink.” 

Chris’s friends seem to be enjoying watching his night being turned into a shit storm, assuming they maybe don’t enjoy his company much either. 

“Why did you do that?” 

“He seems like a tool, he’ll be fine.” 

“Well thank you. It was funny, I had to hold my laughter in so he doesn’t think I made you do that for me.” 

“Safe bet.” 

Your night continued on until midnight when all the happy and drunk patrons exited the restaurant and you got to cleaning up the bar space, leaving you, Vernon, and Somi alone in the dimly lit room. 

“Vernon? Want to stay and have a drink as a thank you for helping me out. Somi would but she has to get back to her ball and chain.” 

“Are we allowed to do that?” 

“Well my dad owns the place, I don’t think he cares much.” 

“You’re dad? Wait what the fuck, I never put that together.” 

“Yeah. Him and his friends.” 

“Holy shit.” 

Laughing along with Somi at his amazement, you bid her goodbye before sliding into a bar top table, holding the glass of vodka in your well manicured fingers. 

Much to your surprise your more than shy coworker decided to stay with you sliding in next to you holding his own glass of beer. 

“So wait. I’m confused. Your dad and his friends opened the bar. Why do you want to work here?” 

“Easy. I always liked the idea of being a bartender and my parents would kill me for being a kid who didn’t have a job or work ethic and just using their money.” 

“Got it. Aren’t you in school?” 

“ I haven’t decided what to go for yet so I’m taking some time. Not sure yet. You?” 

“Journalism.” 

“For real? That’s cool as hell.” 

“Yeah.” 

Your phone lit up on the table blasting the ringtone really loudly in between you and Vernon, flashing the name Matthew on the screen. 

“Hey. Yeah, this is her. Oh really? Can you hold on just ONE second. Thanks.” 

Vernon waved you along letting you go on with the conversation with the guy who's been taking you on dates for the past week, curious why he’d be calling you late. 

 “Wait since I’m out of the loop, who was that?” 

“You really want to know?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, so his name is Matt. We met at the coffee shop a few weeks ago. He was cute. He paid for my drink and we just sort of hit it off.” 

“Have you guys slept together?” 

“Yeah. The first day we met.” 

“Y/N no. You’ve got to make these guys wait. Like they’re getting exactly what they want from you before you even know if they’re fucking idiots or not.” 

“Really? Does that actually work though? I mean you heard him say he likes his ex there’s nothing I can change about that?” 

“Did you ask when his last relationship was before you guys started dating?” 

“Yeah he said he’d been single for two months.” 

“Two months? And he’s already back with her? Or was he always seeing her when you guys were together? What kind of dates did you go on? Dinner? Or?” 

“Coffee sometimes, then he’d just come hangout at my place most of the time.” 

“So you never went to his?” 

“No.” 

“So he was cheating on his girlfriend with you?” 

“What? No, he said he was single.” 

Vernon ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh before looking back at you. 

“You guys met for coffee, you’d have him over to your place during the day, you’d have sex and he’d leave? You never saw his apartment? He just confessed that he’s been seeing his so-called ex over the phone the whole time you guys were quote on quote dating. He definitely lives with her and was fucking you for fun. You weren’t dating.” 

“Speaking from experience, Vernon?” 

“No. I’ve only ever dated one person seriously.” 

“So why are you giving me advice about my dating life?” 

“Because I had a successful five year relationship and you’ve had none? And you seem to need it.” 

“Wow. I would normally be pissed, but you’re right. I can’t seem to tell what I’m  doing wrong actually. Maybe I'm destined to be single.” 

“Not true. You’re pretty, nice, and you’ve got a cool ass life. You’ll be fine, you just need some editing maybe.” 

“So what? You want to be my relationship guru? Or?” 

“Yes.” 

You outstretched your hand to his and he shook it for you, confirming your now partnership where he would help you with your dating life. 

“Wait, before we go further. Try this.” 

Lifting the straw to your lips for you, Vernon offered you a sip of the drink he made.

“Wait, that's good, what is that?” 

“That assholes drink.” 

“I hate that I actually fucking like it.” 

“Me too.” 

You and Vernon spend the rest of your night together shooting the shit and getting to know each other more, once two am rolls around you both decide to head out and walk home. 

“This is me.” 

Much to your surprise Vernon swipes his key card to enter the same building as you. 

“Wait, you live here? How come I’ve never seen you in the building?” 

“I just moved in like three weeks ago. I spend most of my time in my apartment with my cat if I'm not at school or work.” 

“What floor?” 

“Seven.” 

Pressing the number seven on the elevator button before you tapped number thirteen, you and Vernon rode silently up to your separate homes. 

Before stepping off onto his floor, he pressed the hold door button.

“Come over tomorrow around six? I know you have the night off so we can hangout or whatever.” 

“Okay. What should I wear?” 

“You’ll figure it out. You always look nice. Casual is fine.” 

Rolling your eyes to his back as he strode off to his front door, you yelled a goodnight out of the door before they clocked shit and ran you up to your own place. 

Waking up the next morning you stepped out of your bed and pulled out all the ingredients to make a perfect cup of coffee, something that was like a religious ritual for you to clear your head before starting your day. 

After the brew was finished dripping though your pour over carafe you decided to take in some sun on your balcony and prepare your mind for the rest of the day until you were set to get ready to hangout with Vernon. 

The unexpected invitation to go on a quote in quote fake date with the boy had your head confused. What should you wear? What should you do with the little information given to you about what’s going on? 

After spending a few hours outside with your coffee and disconnecting from your phone, you decided to head back inside and go through your closet in search of the perfect casual outfit. 

Placing options on your bed, you hopped into the shower and spent time under the hot steam scrubbing your body from head to toe. After you were satisfied with your cleanliness, you stepped out and sat at your vanity, drying your hair and curling the front two pieces of your perfectly done up-do, painted your nails a perfect cherry red color, and put on your typical makeup look. 

Sliding your slippers back on you stood now in front of the three tops hanging in front of you feeling them for the perfect vibe. Eventually selecting a simple white button down top to match your gray pleated short skirt, slipping up a pair of simple tights and black heeled knee high boots. 

Finally the time came for you to run down seven floors and step off to find Vernon, knocking on the door to the left of the elevator a woman who you’ve seen around the building once or twice answered. 

“I’m sorry, I think maybe I have the wrong apartment. Excuse me-“ 

“You’re y/n?” 

“Yes. Hi.” 

“Hi, I’m Vernon’s friend Chae. I like your outfit, it's super cute.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

Stepping into the similar shaped apartment to yours, you notice the colorful paintings all over the walls, the beautiful soft blue couch, and the cozy smell of fresh linen hitting your nose, as you walked in further you saw a group of various people sitting around in his living room, some pouring themselves drinks, some standing around eating snacks and talking. 

“Would you like water or a beer or anything?” 

“Oh no, I’m alright for now thank you.” 

“No problem, I’ll just go see what he’s up to. Excuse me.” 

“Sure.” 

After waiting five minutes in the threshold of Vernon’s front entry, he peeled around the corner, dressed in an oddly similar outfit to yours, minus the heels and mini skirt. 

His crisp white shirt and matching gray coat and pants, a black leather bag, carrying a pair of nice black sneakers in his hand. 

“Hey, sorry I accidentally spilled cola on my other shirt, I had to change.” 

“That’s alright. I like your outfit though, you look cool.” 

“Thank you, I like yours too. I told you about casual dress though.” 

“This is casual?” 

“If you say so. Want a cocktail or something?” 

“Uh, sure? Wait though I thought we were going out or something, I didn’t know you had company. I can leave?” 

“No. Well, we’re going out a little later to a party,  I wanted to invite you, come on.” 

You stepped into his kitchen where he had various types of alcohol scattered on the counter, next to slices of pizza and a couple bags of chips. 

You looked around the room at the new faces, some of them you recognized from Vernon bring them to the bar with him. 

“Want the asshole special again? I actually made myself one.” 

“Weirdly I do, yeah.” 

Vernon laughed as he mixed you the same concoction he spilled the night before, handing it over to you gracefully. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem. This is a weird question, but did you roll any of your cigarettes or have any of those cute papers you use? I told my friend about them and he wanted to find some to roll a joint with.” 

Digging through your bag you pulled out the small case full of tobacco and papers from inside, holding out the pack to him to give to his friend, someone who you’re sure you’ll meet at one point or another. 

“Wow. Thank you.” 

“It’s cool, I have a bunch anyway. So, what does this have to do with you being my relationship guru anyway?” 

“Nothing actually. Just wanted to hangout with you more.” 

“Oh, right.” 

Something about Vernon being so kind to you and sticking up for you last night and today was making you see him in a different light almost like you were starting to have a crush on him. But he could never be into you that way, especially seeing how he interacted with his friend Chae. 

Walking around his apartment and saying hello to his friends, you chose a seat adjacent to the couch, one that was unoccupied and slightly out of the way. 

Some of his friends knew who you were without you even having to mention it. Talking and getting to know them. You excused yourself to the bathroom, but stumbled upon a room adorned with movie posters and music equipment. 

“The bathroom is right here.” 

Vernon pointed to the unlatched door down the hall, the same position as yours. 

“I know. I live here too. I was just being nosy.” 

“Oh. That's cool, you can check it out if you want.” 

Stepping into his office space, you smiled looking around at his various media and collectables, staring at the framed record on the wall signed by an artist you like yourself. 

“This is yours?” 

“Yeah. I got it as a birthday present when I was like eighteen. I love it.” 

“Sick.” 

“Sick? You’re so weird. Do people say that shit still?” 

“Fuck off. People definitely still say that.”  

“Not cool people.” 

“You literally told me I was cool yesterday?” 

“I spoke too soon.” 

As you and Vernon were standing in his room laughing, Chae appeared behind you both without your knowledge and gripped Vernon’s side, scaring the both of you with his reaction and finding her laughing her ass off. 

“You should have seen your guys’ faces. It was too easy.” 

“You’re such an asshole, I almost hit you.” 

“I’d like to see you try, big boy.” 

You just smiled, feeling a little awkward watching Vernon flirting with his friend.

“We want to head out, are you guys ready?” 

“I’m good, I think Y/N had to use the restroom though?” 

“Yeah. It’s okay, I think I might just head back to my place. I have a headache, but you guys have fun.” 

“No way, come on, take some tylenol and let's go.” 

“Chae. Let her leave if she doesn't feel good.” 

“She obviously wants to leave because she found your weird collection of fucking disney vhs tapes, not because of her headache.” 

“Not true.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll come, just let me use the restroom fast. I’ll meet you.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

Leaving you to do your business, Chae handed you two small white pills from her bag, and a swig of her beer to wash them down with before heading behind Vernon as they got ready to leave for the next location. 

After a few minutes  of walking you and Vernon’s friends  pulled up outside a bar you’ve never been to but heard a lot of your friends enjoyed, amply titled Love Bites.  

Vernon held onto your shoulders and walked you into the front door of the bar, pushing you towards a table where he told you to sit down and wait, as he walked away and left you with his friend to order everyone a round of drinks. 

The seat next to you that you’d hoped Vernon would fill was taken by a dark haired boy you hadn’t recognized from earlier back at the apartment. 

“Y/n? Hi, I’m Joshua. 

“Oh. Hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Vernon’s friend just so you don’t think I’m some random dude.” 

“Right. I figured.” 

“Actually I was the one who asked for the papers, thank you by the way.” 

“Yeah, no problem. Do you smoke? Like weed or?” 

“Yeah, just weed. I used to smoke cigarettes and vape for a while or whatever, but I stopped for a while. I just realized it was a boring habit.” 

“How’d you know I had strawberry papers, did Vernon tell everyone?” 

“No, no. He just said you were cool. Very friendly, but you didn’t talk about yourself enough and that you have nice smelling cigarettes that you smell like sometimes. Nothing too much really.”

“Oh. No dirty details about my weird dating life he pressed me about?”  

“Nothing about that, but he knows about my awful habits too. He always tells me I need serious help.”

“Yes. Me too, I called him a relationship guru.” 

“He thinks he is, but he’s had a crush on the same girl for a while. I'm not sure who she is, he never told me anything more about it. I’m not sure he’s the guy I’d trust to set me up that's for sure.” 

“Oh really? Is it, you know?” 

You pointed with your eyes across the table to Chae who was seated next to Vernon’s side. 

“I don’t think so. She’s definitely been in love with him forever, they were friends when they were kids and rekindled a few years ago when she moved back to town. She's really obvious about it, but he never said anything.” 

“Ah, I don’t know he seems to flirt with her alot.” 

“He’s just like that with everyone, overly friendly, kind of dorky.” 

“I see that.” 

You spent the entire night talking and getting to know Joshua, surprisingly finding out a lot of things that made you more and more intrigued about him. 

When the night finally came to a close, you left with his number and a plan to go out with just the two of you a few days later. Maybe Vernon being your friend was going to pay off more than you knew and his relationship guru advice brought you right into the hands of his very good friend. 

In the next few weeks you continued working and getting to know the pervious shy boy you thought Vernon was and going on actual good dates with his friend Joshua, who much to your surprise wasn’t the type to fuck you and forget you on a first date. 

Months passed by as your casual dating with Joshua went on and on, thinking that while it was good something with him was missing. But, you kept giving him a chance anyway. Unaware what that something was. 

On a night where you were getting ready to go out for a date you found Vernon outside of your apartment door, knocking on it wildly waiting for you to come and answer. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Y/n.” 

“Want to come in?” 

“No. Yes? Is that alright?” 

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird as hell.” 

Vernon just nodded his head and sat down on your couch. 

“Are you getting ready to head out? You look really nice. I feel like I’m interrupting something.” 

“No. I just got home from a date actually. Why?” 

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” 

“It would help if you stopped saying sorry and told me what was wrong.” 

“Chae.” 

“Oh?” 

“She was over at my apartment. We were just playing video games and having some beer or whatever, but she tried to kiss me. And I let her at first, but I didn’t want to kiss her. I never have. I know she’s pretty and whatever, but like..” 

“Wait. So why did you come up here?” 

“Because I didn’t know what else to do? She’s still downstairs, she said she won't leave until we talk about what happened and she’s crying. I tried to tell her I wasn’t interested in her romantically and I liked being her friend, but she won’t take no for an answer. I just didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry I interrupted your nice night like this.” 

You walked over into the kitchen and poured Vernon a glass of water to hopefully settle him from rambling so much. 

“Can I ask you why you aren’t interested in her? I always assumed you guys had something going on.” 

“No. Never. She’s not my taste, I mean she’s really cool. But we’re really similar and I don’t want to date someone who reminds me too much of myself otherwise I’d get bored, but never break it off maybe because I’m too nice or maybe because I feel too comfortable. Does that make any sense?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Plus, I told her I liked someone else anyway and she got even more upset. She started accusing me of being a liar and leading her on.” 

“I’ll be honest and when I first met her I thought you liked her too, but the more I got to know you I realized you pretty much act that way around everyone you’re comfortable with.” 

“Right.” 

“Want me to help you get her out of your apartment?” 

“You would?” 

“Yeah. I still owe you for spilling that drink a long time ago.” 

“My god, no you don’t” 

“Shh, in my heart I do. Are you staying here or coming?” 

“I’ll come.” 

Heading down the elevator still in your nice date outfit, you grabbed his keys and unlocked his front door to find Chae still sitting on his couch, waiting for him to come home. 

Looking her up and down you found her dressed in shorts two sizes too small with Vernon’s T-Shirt draped over her body. Clinging to his pillow and looking you up and down. 

“What the fuck is she doing here, Vernon? She’s not a part of this at all.” 

“Actually, I’m here to ask you to politely get the fuck out of his apartment and stop making him feel bad for not liking you.” 

“You’re such a bitch, he does like me. The person he doesn’t like is you, so maybe you should get the fuck out of here. He just feels sorry for you.” 

“Chae, that’s not true and don’t talk to her like that.” 

“You’re actually defending her? She hasn’t been nice to me once since she met me. She just acts like an entitled brat around me all the time, making me feel stupid. She’s not a part of this conversation at all, don’t you understand how insane this is?” 

“She is a part of it actually, because she’s the girl I have a crush on and if I wasn’t so focused on making everyone else around me happy at the price of myself I would’ve been able to tell her that already instead of doing it like this.” 

“Verno-” 

“Her? You fucking like her? Seriously? She told me she never would date someone like you and that you’re dorky and a loser.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s never happened. You’re the one who parades around making me feel like an idiot and that I'm not good enough to be friends with Vernon. You know who’s being an entitled brat? You. You’re kicking this poor guy out of HIS apartment for not liking you back like a child, you’re sitting on his couch in HIS clothes, waiting for him to come back to you to try to pressure him into being with you when he told you he likes someone else. If you’re such a good ass friend to him like you constantly claim to be, then maybe be that good friend and get the hell up, give him his shirt back and get the fuck out or you can talk to him like the adult that you are and try to understand how he feels and continue being his friend. If you don’t like either option I don’t know what else to tell you. So, what will it be?” 

“If I talk to him, you need to get the fuck out of here, I don’t want you around.” 

“Fine with me, but stop being such an insufferable bitch and maybe have some compassion. Goodnight.” 

Not wanting to wait around for the elevator, you slammed Vernon’s door shut leaving them to have their conversation and walked up the seven flights of stairs back into your cozy home untainted by her bad energy. 

Hours later after you were showered and ready to destress from the absolute chaos your night has been, you poured yourself a glass of wine and sat on your to smoke a nicely rolled joint as a treat to yourself, leaving your phone inside your room and out of your eyesight. 

Suddenly mid-inhale another knock came to your door, half of you wanted to pretend you were asleep, but another part of you assumed whoever it was must have an issue with you smoking inside your home. 

Looking through the peephole of your front door, you saw for the second time in the night Vernon standing outside, now in his plaid pj pants and a hoodie pacing around waiting for you to answer. 

Taking in a deep breath you opened the door and took one look at his messy hair, realizing he must have been trying to sleep, but couldn’t. 

“Yes?” 

“Can I come in?” 

“Be my guest. Sorry I’m smoking weed inside, it smells weird.” 

“Can I have a hit actually?”

“Sure.” 

“Thanks.” 

Handing over the pink flower, Vernon took an incredibly long hit of the weed, exhaling it creating a cloud over the two of you. 

“Wine?” 

“Uh, not yet. Can I confess something to you?” 

“Is it about the girl you like?” 

“Sorry you had to find out like that. I was planning on telling you, but then you started seeing Josh and whatever else it just got away from me, it wasn’t the right time I know. I just let it slip.” 

“It’s okay, Vernon” 

“It’s not, especially when you’re not single. I feel like I ruined any relationship we had with saying it, even our platonic one.” 

“When you talked about ruining my nice night before? Didn’t you wonder why I was coming home from a date at 7:00pm? It was because I actually just broke it off with Joshua. He was really nice about it of course, but I just felt like we were friends and nothing more.” 

“Oh. So you’re not?” 

“Dating him? No.” 

“So I didn’t ruin it?” 

“My night? Not at all, it wasn't that great anyway.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah.” 

Vernon took the opportunity to steal your glass of wine and downed it right then and there whispering a small sorry to you for doing so. 

“Okay, so. I knew I liked you the moment we started working together. I wasn’t sure how to tell you ever, I wasn’t even sure how to talk to you because you made me feel so awkward, not because you were mean or anything, just because I knew I’d sound like a fucking dumb ass. But, that night we first walked home together and had a drink. I found out so much about you, I liked you even more so I asked you to come and hangout with us at my place, I figured I could get some courage to finally ask you out, which ultimately I failed at again and it just spiraled out of control. It’s just gotten more and more bad for me, like bad in the sense I just can’t stop falling for you and you didn’t know. Until I essentially fucked it up further telling you I like you infront of Chae, which was a mistake too. I keep fucking it up.” 

“You're doing pretty good if you ask me, but you should’ve just told me a long time ago then none of this crazy shit would have happened.” 

“That's charming, no?” 

“Only because it's you.” 

“Look, I don’t need an answer from you now or ever, just know I wont be fucking weird about it anymore. I’ll let you go to bed. I’ll see you in a few days at work and everything will be good.” 

Vernon got up and tried to walk towards your front door for an exit, but you caught up to him in time, grabbing him by his shoulders and spinning him around just in time to plant a perfectly placed kiss on his pink lips. 

“I like that you’re fucking weird and for your information I admire your dumb vhs tape collection.” 

Vernon took his opportunity to kiss you again, even longer this time than the first one, pushing his tongue into your mouth, making you moan as his hands snaked their way around your body. 

“You taste like vanilla too.” 

“Nice?” 

“Perfect.” 

“Would us having sex count as us fucking on the first date?” 

“This would be considered fucking before the first date.” 

“Ah, I see. Is that a no-no?” 

“I’ll let it slide.” 

Vernon lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his long torso, and carried you onto your couch, setting you down to be perfectly face to face with his enclosed penis, now beginning to grow inside of his pants. Dipping your fingers into the waistband of his pants you grazed the tips of your fingers over the head of his dick, making him shiver from the cold touch of your hands. 

Unwrapsping him like a present, his penis flew from his waistband and you quickly wrapped your lips around the soft pink skin, slightly creating a suction cup with your lips as his hands found their way to the back of your head and he fucked your face gently. 

As his speed picked up, the head of his dick was pounding its way to the back of your throat making him weak in the knees and unsure how much longer he could go on like this without relieving himself inside of your mouth. 

In order to savor this moment further, he against his better judgment pulled you off of him and got on his knees in front of you, running a finger down your neck, placing soft kisses on your lips and all the way down to your sternum, his fingers following along. 

Pushing over your panties to the side he ran those same fingers up and down your wet center, making you moan and push onto him, begging for him to put them inside of you without many words. 

When he was finally done teasing you, he placed his first two fingers at the entrance and ran his thumb over your clit making you squirm and let out a small moan, trying to grind your way further onto him. 

With the same speed as before he started pumping his fingers into your wet center, crawling his way into your body and making you overwhelmed with pleasure. 

Suddenly he was four fingers deep stretching you out as a preparation for you to be comfortable fucking his much larger dick when suddenly you squirted all over his bare chest, slinking back onto the couch in a fit of heavy breathing. 

Vernon didn’t let you off the hook though, he grabbed onto you hips, carrying you onto the floor under him. Finally fucking you through your previous orgasm, riding into the sensitive waters of your clit, softly sucking on your nipples as he slowly thrusted himself onto you, almost like it was the only way to cure the aching in your center. 

As the sweat and your bodily fluids mix their way together, the heavy breathing slowed to near silence, watching him in ecstasy fucking into you, noticing the beauty of the way his eyelashes ran across his cheeks and the small light gold flecks in his eyes. He’s never been more beautiful to you than he was tonight. 

Suddenly in your daze his lips came onto yours before he slightly lifted them off of you to whisper while they still grazed over the top. 

“Can I come inside?” 

“Please.” 

And with your verbal confirmation Vernon filled up your body with his semen and rode into his very own orgasm as well. 

Kissing you once again he got up and ran into your bathroom to grab a clean towel for you both to clean up with and laid back down next to you on the floor. 

Suddenly the two of you erupted into laughter, just thinking about how stupid you both were to see chemistry between you was about as hot as the sex you both indulged in. 

“I can’t believe you were going to leave.” 

“I can’t believe I thought you weren’t into me.” 

“Who said I wasn’t lying?” 

“The way you were moaning and fucking into me told me all I needed to know.” 

“Ok, hot shot.” 

“So about that first date?” 

“It’s on.” 

[radiant-reid]

hi cate! could you perhaps do a blurb on reader telling the girls about their sex life in a bar or something and spencer just being like 😨😨😨?

Spencer should have known the details of your relationship would start to spill out as soon as you got som alcohol in your system.

Apparently, Emily and Morgan know this also because they’ve plied you with drink after drink until you’ll basically tell them anything they ask.

You’ve already told them about how amazing he is as a boyfriend, something that makes him proud to know, and reassured it’s not just a lie you tell him privately.

“Okay, so the important question: how’s the sex?” Emily finally comes out and asks.

Spencer gulps, knowing your unfiltered opinion is about to come out. Honestly, he’s just hoping it’s a positive review.

You grin drunkly at him. “Amazing.”

He has to admit, he’s relieved. Even though he’s not thrilled about the team knowing those details, at least you’re not disappointed.

“Like the best I’ve ever had.” You continue, unknowingly inflating his ego. You reach across the table and place your hand on his shoulder. “The things this man can do with his fingers and tongue are mind blowing.”

Spencer takes your hand and kisses your palm, blushing bright red. “Alright, I think you’ve had enough to drink, my love. Maybe it’s home time?”

You shake your head adamantly. “No, but I’ve got so many stories to tell.”

He clenches his teeth. “I’m not sure we need to do that.”

“No!” Penelope squeals. “We have to know.”

“Maybe later.” Spencer offers to shut it down, getting out of his seat to help you up.

“Next week!” You promise excitedly, letting him hold you up. “Because there’s a lot to discuss.”

[tarosunshine]

라이즈 𐙚 TOO DRUNK ﹗

genre fluff 𖹭 warning cursing suggestive ﹗ pairing friend ? OT7 x fem reader | bookshelf .

— before “what happened last night?”

SYNOPSIS one of your friends, had organized a party for the end of the year, so everyone would go, as would you. what wasn't in your plans was drink so much and end up in a situation where you wouldn't end up sober.

𐙚 SHOTARO

you walked through the dark streets slightly illuminated by the lights, adjusting your dress that rode up. and from one moment to another, you felt a weight on your shoulders, a jacket. of course, you had almost forgotten that shotaro was by your side, watching your steps, worried that you would stumble.

“thanks for taking me to your home, taro” you mumbled as you held on to his arm. your eyes getting a little heavy. he instinctively grabbed your waist to prevent you from falling. shotaro wasn't sober, but he hadn't drunk much, so he could hold you without a problem. “you're welcome. and obviously i wasn't going to let you go home alone. besides, my apartment is nearby” he replied, giving you a light touch on the head, almost like a caress. you smiled when you heard it.

a few meters away, you saw his apartment, so you instantly heard the sound of the keys. shotaro held you and helped you into the elevator. “are you sleepy?” you yawned as you saw the elevator doors closing, and then you nodded as you rested your head on his shoulder. he smiled, and seconds later, the doors opened again. “come on” he spoke as he grabbed your hand to guide you, and open the door to his apartment.

it was normal that you came to shotaro's apartment. after all, you had been friends for a long time, but you had never stayed the night. so as soon as you two entered, you took off your shoes, and the boy went to pour you a glass of water. he handed it to you, and he also drank from the same glass after you finished. you watched his movements carefully. how his adam's apple went up and down with each drink, his hands, his arms, his cheeks that were pink from the alcohol, and his hair somewhat disheveled from having picked you up from the floor. and of course how fucking tall he is compared to you. and you had never looked at him closely. this boy was one of the prettiest around you, and you knew it. he was someone who attracted attention wherever he went.

“earth calling y/n” his hand moved in front of your eyes from side to side, and you snapped out of your trance. you looked at him in silence, then looked at his lips, which turned bright red from the cold water. “what happened?” he smiled, looking into your eyes. he looked at you in silence when you approached him, and didn't move when your hands grabbed his shoulders. “i have som—” he remained still when you placed your lips on his, but then he kissed you back, although seconds later you felt his hands on your shoulders and he gently pushed you away. the snap of your lips was heard in the silence of the kitchen. he looked at you with those dark eyes that caused so much tenderness in everyone, but in this moment, they were different.

“what?” you asked a little disappointed, and he looked at you with confused eyes. “why did you do that?” he asked, and his voice came out deeper than you'd ever heard, and you gulped. “just because” you leaned in to kiss him again, but this time he stopped you. “no, not when you're like this, hm?” he caressed your cheek, and his eyes softened. “let's go to sleep” he grabbed your hand and led you to his bedroom. there you sat on the mattress and watched him while he searched in his closet for a shirt for you. when he found one that wasn't so big for you, he gave it to you. you grabbed it and went to the bathroom to change and wash, and when it came out, shotaro was also changed into his pajamas, and he went into the bathroom.

you lay down in bed, covering yourself with the sheets. you sighed as you felt his perfume on his pillow, and seconds late, the bathroom door opened. shotaro walked over to the bed, and you made a place for him to lie down there. his body was warm, and you were cold, so you clung to him, wrapping your arm around his waist. you felt his body tense a little, but then he rested one of his arms around your shoulders. and so both of you fell asleep.

𐙚 EUNSEOK

eunseok's back was a place where you could spend hours and hours on because of how comfortable it was. but his sighs hinted that he was not very happy with the situation.

“i can hear you snorting like every two seconds” you mumbled as you looked at the empty street. he settled you on his back once more as he grabbed your bare legs. “yes, well, it's because you should have listened to me when i told you not to drink so much.” you giggle and hid your face in his neck. “hey, that tickles” he tried to push your face away but clearly couldn't. “i thought you weren't ticklish” you murmured over his skin, and he didn't say anything. but seconds later, you spoke again. “we're close, look.” you pointed with your shoes in hand towards your house, which was a few meters away. “thanks, god” he murmured, looking up at the sky just barely. you playfully hit his chest. “it seems like you don't like me, seok” you fake complaining as you went back to teasing him with his neck, blowing and laughing on him. eunseok lightly squeezed your thighs, giving you a warning. “don't play. you won't be able to handle it later” he spoke as he carefully set you down on the floor, in front of your door. "handle it? what i won't be able to handle it?” when he returned to his original position, you had to look up to see his face. he smirked. “go to sleep” then he scoffed as he unlocked the door with the keys you had thrown away a few blocks ago. “or what?” you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him with a frown. he looked you up and down slowly and then smiled, getting dangerously close to your lips. “stop teasing me” he murmured and moved away from your face, but you immediately grabbed the collar of his shirt and kissed him. just like that, without thinking.

out of surprise, he remained static for a few seconds but instantly pulled you to him with his hands on your hips. the kiss turned into needy and sloppy. after a few seconds, you separated and looked into each other's eyes, processing what had happened. you swallowed, and a wave of shyness invaded you, as you saw those big eyes, so you quickly walked away and set foot inside your house. he tried to speak, but you interrupted him. “thanks for bringing me, seok. see you later. and arrive home safely” you spoke quickly and closed the door, making sure not to hit him. you leaned on it and sighed with your heart beating fast.

𐙚 SUNGCHAN

you were talking with one random boy who had approached you at the party, but you couldn't focus since you felt a heavy gaze on you, and also because you didn't care much about the conversation, but you didn't know how to get away. seconds later, you turned your head when you saw sungchan approaching the two of you. his figure stood between you and the boy.

“y/n, it's late. do you want me to walk you home?” he asked, looking into your eyes. you nodded immediately. your hero. he smiled and grabbed your hand without turning to see the boy who was left there. you both left the noisy house and walked in silence to your place, which was a few blocks away. his hand never let go of yours. it was so warm that you could almost forget how cold it was outside. “are you cold?" he asked, turning to look at you, and with his thumb, he caressed your hand. you nodded with a grimace as you continued rubbing your arms. sungchan seemed to think about it for a few moments and then pulled you close to his body with one of his arms over your shoulders. “i don't have a jacket to offer you, so this is the best i can do” he murmured. you smiled at him.

“it's okay. your body is enough” you murmured, resting your head on him. his hand slid down your arm, trying to warm you. “oh, look, we're here” he said as you two approached the door, which you tried to open, missing twice, until on the third try you succeeded. he just laughed as he walked in behind you.

it was normal for both of us that he would stay at your house after the parties, especially if he didn't have his car and it was so late. “i'll go change” you said as you watched him sit on the couch. he just nodded as he sighed, leaning his head back.

when you returned, you saw him resting with his mouth barely open. he had fallen asleep. you approached him with a smile and looked at him, getting lost in his features. how could he be so damn cute?. “do you want to take a photo?” he murmured, and you found his eyes slightly open. you wanted to walk away immediately, but he grabbed your wrist and, with a smile, pulled you into his lap. you blinked, disoriented, and swallowed. he looked at you with a smile and sleepy eyes.

you rested your hand on his cheek and caressed it. it was unconscious. it was also unconscious that you leaned in to kiss his lips, kiss that he reciprocated immediately. and as the kiss increased, the pace he leaned towards you until he was leaning on you on the couch. “are you sure about this?” he asked, looking at you, waiting for your response. you nodded several times. “yes” he smiled. “then i will take good care of you” he murmured before you grabbed his neck with your hands and kissed again.

𐙚 WONBIN

the only thing you could see was the lips of the boy in front of you move, but you couldn't understand what was coming out of them. you just stared at how they moved and how bright and cute they were. who was it about? wonbin, of course.

“...all right?” his lips stopped moving. you blinked twice and looked at him confused. he started at you waiting for a response, and you just smiled at him. “what were you talking about?” he sighed and bitte his lips, looking down at the floor, shaking his head. this time, you would try to pay attention. he looked up at you again and held you by the cheeks so that you could pay attention to him, taking you by surprise. “in case you didn't realize, we are already at your house, and i was telling you to go change. all right?” you looked at his lips, then at his eyes, once again at his lips and another time at his eyes. you gulped and nodded. “good girl, now go” he gently released you and nodded to you.

without question, you walked to your room, leaving him in the kitchen. you thought about it for a few seconds. “good girl?” you touched your cheeks that were hot and looked for clothes in your closet.

once you had your pajamas on and your teeth brushed, you went back to wonbin. he was with his arms resting on the table and when he looked at you and stood up, putting his jacket back on. “now that i know you're safe, i'll go home” he cleared his throat and headed for the door. you followed him in silence. “okay, see you tomorrow” you went up to kiss his cheek, like you always did. “hey, the ke—” wonbin barely moved his head, and your lips collided with his, but you instantly pulled away in surprise. he looked at you the same way.

both of you remained silent, looking at each other, until you pounced on those lips that distracted you all night. he didn't hesitate to reciprocate, grabbing you by the back of your neck. “we… shouldn’t… do… this” he spoke between kisses. you wrapped your arms around his neck, making you closer. “tomorrow you won't remember anything” he murmured against your lips, his breaths mingling. “i will do. i will remember it. i promise” wonbin seemed to give up because he gave in to your kisses, grabbing your waist with one hand. “i hope you will” between kisses, caresses, and laughs, you two headed to your room, closing the door behind.

𐙚 SEUNGHAN

“come here and get some…” you sang between murmurs, slurring your words, while your head rested on the shoulder of the boy who laughed every time you opened your mouth. “...oh my, oh my god” you sighed and remained silent, feeling the aroma of his perfume.

“ow, you won't sing anymore?” he asked mockingly as she smiled. you denied, tightening your grip on his shoulders, adjusting yourself so you wouldn't fall. his grip on your thighs was firm, so that wasn't going to happen. “we are almost there” he says, and you nodded.

“hey, let me tell you a secret” you spoke out of nowhere, capturing his attention immediately. he nodded, and you chuckled. “there is someone i like” you didn't realize it, but his body tensed when he heard that. he cleared his throat and hesitated to ask, but he was curious. “and can i ask who the is lucky one?” you laughed as you remembered the face of that boy. “his name is... seunghan” you said, looking at the sky, distracting yourself for a few seconds. a huge smile that you couldn't see appeared on his face. “but don't tell him” you warned now, trying to look at the face of the boy who was carrying you.

“of course. i won't” he continued smiling as he followed his lead, until a few meters away he saw your house.

𐙚 SOHEE

“pff, look at your shadow, how funny” sohee laughed, pointing your shadow on the sidewalk, and you laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “but look at yours” you now said, looking at his. he also laughed loudly as if it wasn't 4 am.

you two were holding hands so as not to lose your balance, heading towards your house. laughing and joking all the way. and these were the moments you loved the most. being with sohee and forgetting for a while about the worries you had, although the next day you probably wouldn't remember a couple of things.

you crossed the street after looking at both sides and continued your way. luckily, you two were neighbors, so you were always in each other's company. sohee's hand held you tightly as you stumbled and almost fell. he looked at you, a little surprised, and pulled you closer to him. “be careful, okay?” no matter what condition he was in, he would always take care of you. so you just nodded, staying close to his body. “look, we're here!” he pointed towards your houses, which were almost next to each other, with a house in between.

when you were in front of your door, you took out your keys and looked at him with a smile. “thank you sohee, as always” you approached, and without even thinking about it, you kissed his lips. then you entered your house without even realizing what you had done and how you had left the poor boy; red and confused, but with a smile from ear to ear.

𐙚 ANTON

“i swear! i saw a shadow, anton” you complained, almost crying, clinging to his arm. if you were sober, you would never act this way, and that is why anton would take advantage of this moment to make fun of you a little. “i think i saw it, too” he mumbled, pretending to be scared, and from the state you were in, you believed him. the fear was reflected on your face, and you climbed on top of him.

"hey! you’re going to knock me to the floor” he didn't even move, but grabbed your waist as he approached the door of your house. you snorted and made a face. “liar. you are like a very tall and big building, anton. you not going to fall” he denied, chuckling as he opened the door, trying to keep you from falling, and closed it behind both of you, walking with you in his arms to your room. he tried to leave you on your bed, but you didn't let him go.

“antooon, what if it's in the closet?” you complained, clinging to his clothes. he sighed and shook his head. “there’s nothing there, y/n” he got you to let him go and walked to the closet to open it. “see?” you denied it when you saw him heading towards the door. “anton, please!” he stopped walking and turned to look at you with his arms crossed. “please don't go. what if it’s under the bed?” you said as you raised your legs up onto the mattress, bringing them closer to your body.

well, he couldn't leave you like this. after all, it was kinda his fault that you believed that.

“okay, okay, i'll stay... even if i have work tomorrow” he sighed as he sat on the bed next to you. a smile appeared on your face, and you hugged him from behind, causing you the two of you to fall onto the mattress. anton laughed as you settled down. changing your clothes didn't care at that moment, after all you were a little scared. so you wrapped your arms and legs around his body, and he just sighed in denial. although, after all, he was comfortable and happy to be with you like this.

happy wonbin's day !!

[world-in-a-nook]

"And upon his name was a crown of jewels, and the brightest was Hope"

character : Aventurine pairing : Aventurine (drunk!Aventurine at the end) x avgin!gn!reader (specified blond hair) ; angst/comfort art : @しかく

synopsis : Aventurine, while sitting in a bar, finds you performing at a bar in Penacony. Surprised to see another Avgin, he watches your dance performance and comes to see you after it. inspiration : dance ; warnings : spoiler for 2.1 (all of the Aventurine's backstory) ; Avgin racism (implied prostitution); alcohol ; petname ( little gem ; darling ;) ; survivor guilt ; might be ooc lore taken from : Signoia, Unclaimed Desolation (I went full on worldbuilder and might have expanded a bit) wc : 3.1k author's note : not my native language

The night had long started inside the bar with drinks passing from hand to hand, chatters getting loud. The cocktail, an Imagined Sunrise, in Aventurine’s hand swirled the sweet colour of sunsets. He was seated in an obscure corner, far from anyone’s gaze. Although his client had long left, he decided to stay anyway to pass time. Why stay in the boring room when you can have fun outside?  His bodyguards would have preferred the former since it meant being less alert but Aventurine wasn’t the type to cooperate especially after a frustrating deal.

Through the rose-tinted glasses, he looked at his surroundings. The bar was crowded like any night of Penacony, people sipping on the dream syrup or on some Soulglad. The chatter filled the room mixing with the clicking of the ice and the music. The coloured bottles shined in the dimlit bar creating drinks. His own was gleaming like some dawn, one that he dreamt so much of. He took a sip before looking at the clock, curious to see if the casino might still be open. His thought process was interrupted by the bar’s owner standing up on the stage:

“Tonight, folks, I’ll present you with an exotic flower from a faraway land. This desert bloom will offer you a performance like none other!”

It was at this point that you appeared on the stage, waiting for the musicians to start. Though Aventurine was already captivated because he could now grasp what the owner meant with “faraway land”. He recognized the patterned clothes, the colourful jewellery and golden hair gracefully swaying with each movement. And when he finally saw your colourful eyes, he felt as if the ground was breaking before him. Each one of your movements seemed like turning his world upside down. He followed the movements of the colourful fabrics, of the golden jewellery. The fabric moving like the wind in the golden dunes, your hair like the rays of gold that warmed his skin. The jewellery chimed together as making a melody on its own. He crossed your gaze through his glasses and couldn’t resist to lean forward in disbelief. Those movements reminded him of the time faraway from now, a time where each shimmering aurora had the warmth of comfort, of home; a time in which he danced with his family and rejoiced in the Kakava festival; a time which felt so far away, yet he yearned for it.

His contemplation continued: how the fabric’s colours and your movements was a wildfire swaying to your liking, each of the golden jewellery was a spark for every new flame, the chiming of it like the crack of the firewood. The dance sending him into a spin of fascination and disbelief. Each step like an acknowledgment of your presence, each beat of the music making him realize that he wasn’t the only one left. The fire continued to dance and show off its movements with the rhythmic music. The drums beating as hard as his heart, the graceful sway of the fabrics leaving him in a daze. With each new melody, he took a sip of his own drink. His head spined with the dance, the alcohol, and your twirls.

Before a stop, the dance ending, and some applauses. Pearls of sweats had appeared on your body completing your jewellery set. You bowed with the applauses and toss of coins, though Aventurine could hear some of many murmurs:

“An Avgin? They’re just some snake, manipulating their charms for money.”

“They’re just trying to find a fool for the night!”

“You know Sigonians, rotten to the core…”

He didn’t care when those insults were about him. He had heard them so many times now that it felt numb, but he wasn’t the target of it, another Avgin was, and it felt so different. Someone like him was insulted. His eyes darted to see your reaction if you would say anything back. Though you had already escaped from his gaze, the only remain of your performance was your faint perfume.

He wanted to follow you through the narrow corridors, through the dazzling streets of Penacony, through each planet, through the desert dunes until that moment where he could go back to that very moment, that impossible moment in which the festival took place in joy. The faint perfume did bring him back to reality after a moment and like the good businessman he was, he knew how to use his tongue. A slight gesture and the owner approached:

“Good evening, Mr. Aventurine. Thank you for choosing our humble establishment!”

“Oh, but I must thank you, my friend, for the atmosphere, the drinks and even the entertainment!”

“Oh, did you like tonight’s beauty? A rare gem…”

How he objectified you felt repulsing, you were a being, not some sort of possession limited to its beauty. Aventurine bit his tongue, though he had led the conversation where he wanted to, so he asked:

“Oh indeed, a one-of-a-kind. May I ask if it could be possible to see that gem?”

“I’m sorry sir but they don’t accept visitors…”

He gazed upon the owner facing him. It was easy to see his lies: the crossed arms, the slight bite of the lip and this twitch of the eyebrow he had seen in some gambler he provoked. He had encountered so many liars like him, so confident yet wearing their emotions under the spotlight. He didn’t mind it, after all that’s how he won. So, he asked:

“My friend, I have heard that your establishment lacked customers. I might be able to do just that… Some of the Strategic Investment Department needs a place to have fun time. Would you be able to grant that?”

“Yes Mr. Aventurine, of course. Our humble establishment would gladly welcome your colleagues. They would also have a price. The IPC, and yourself, have done so much for us !”

“Then make me another drink for me and your generous patrons! It’s on me!”

The owner rushed to the bar, urging his employees to start serving drinks to all patrons. A big investment for just one fleeting moment. Drinks appearing and going from left to right, up and down, cheers coming from one side to another, praises for the generous esteemed guest. Yet he knew how they were just hypocrites, esteeming him during their drunken state. One moment, he was one of the avgins “rotten to the core” and the other he was an “esteemed guest”, what a joke. He looked back at the owner, now was truly time for the gamble:

“If I may bring a drink to the precious gem…”

“Oh of course, Mr. Aventurine. Let me show you the way…”

A few corridors later and they entered your dressing room, knocking on your door. You were facing a vanity taking off the jewels resting on your forehead and chest. The owner introduced:

“Little gem, one of our esteemed guests wanted to give you a drink. So, I brought him to you. He is a particularly important guest which is giving us new clients which means you could get more money for your performance. Treat him well…”

The owner escaped while Aventurine sighed at the owner’s lack of subtility. He signed his bodyguards to stay outside the door and after a few seconds, you finally spoke for the first time:

“I’m not selling my body…”

“Oh no need to inform me, I’m not here for that…” replied the businessman.

To confirm his saying, he sat down on the furthest couch and laid your drink on the nearest table to you. More seconds of the awkward silence, silence in which he delighted because as a gambler he knew it was a silence of thinking, of calculation. You asked politely while turning:

“Then why are you here sir?”

“Because I think we have something in common.”

“Oh really?”

Aventurine, for the first time, took off his glasses to reveal his colourful eyes while his left hand went inside his pocket. Your gaze met and there was this moment. He could see emotions passing through your mind and body: first, the slight widening of your eyes from the surprise, the lips parting as if trying to find words, the quivering fingers as if grasping for reality and then seating back as in disbelief. At last, the nod of acknowledgment. Both of you stayed staring at each other, like staring into mirror. Two beings that started the same but ended up as opposites. You broke the silence:

“I’ve heard rumours about an IPC debt collector being Signonian but are you…?”

“I’m an Avgin.”

The sentence was short, but it felt like a revelation for both of you. An acknowledgment of each other’s fate, each other’s hardships and despair. The realisation of each other’s suffering by the mere gaze, the lack of shine in each other’s eyes. He broke the silence by sipping some of his drink, it was easier to numb the pain. You took again the lead in the conversation:

“May I ask for your name?”

“They call me Aventurine.”

“Doesn’t sound avgin…”

“As I said, darling, they call me that way.”

Behind the dismissive use of the petname and the play on words, he didn’t expect your wit. Although you were quite right to not trust him at first in this cold world. He couldn’t bear to see you slip between his hands like the golden sand. Another gulp of alcohol, of courage. For a second, his vision blurred and his head spinned. For the first time, through sheer will or maybe was it his thoughts blending into a mess, he broke again the silence:

“And may I call you something else than what that man called you? May I have your name?”

You replied, after a few seconds, with your stage name which he immediately got:

“Oh, come on darling, it’s not that much of a big risk to give a name.”

“Says the one who didn’t give his name either…” you retorted.

“Touché! But I did it because I’m known as Aventurine and besides, I’m part of the IPC. As a member of the Ten Stonehearts, I shall reveal no secrecy and invest in my persona.”

You could hear the sarcasm dripping from his lips and he started to be more talkative, probably from the alcohol ingested throughout the night. Even if you wanted to go, you had to stay and treat him well because of the owner’s order. You would be interrupted in your thought process by the blond:

“Those jewels… Are they from turquoise meteorites?”

“Yes, they are. Mama Fenge has blessed my family with it and so I carry them to each performance”.

“Can I see them up close? No touching you or them if you would like to, it’s just been a long time since… Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen some… Would it be possible?”

He silenced himself by taking another gulp of his drink and he put the fedora away, starting to feel hot from the alcohol. He let out a small sigh of relief when you approached to let him look at the golden chain, which was previously attached to your belt, with turquoises and charms. The melody of the chain lulled him into deeper memories, and he started to talk again:

“You know, I’ve heard that these turquoises were as beautiful as Gaiathra Triclops’ eyes, but I wander if they are as valuable as hers. If turquoises are that valuable, then is that why our land was destroyed? Why were our valuable land and people left for dead?”

You didn’t respond because of the sudden emotion. The alcohol had certainly turned the gambler into a sentimental. You didn’t know how to quite manage to those questions because, you too, didn’t have the answer to that question. The dreading question that didn’t come in each other’s mind since a time long ago, a time that felt like forever. Yet your thoughts were again interrupted by him:

“I have a lucky charm too, not as valuable as turquoises but a gold lucky charm my mother gave me. Lucky charm to a lucky child, quite an irony. Big sis’ told me that it was to symbolize my name. “Blessed by Gaithra Triclops”, Kakavasha, lucky child yet received a lucky charm.”

You didn’t comment on how he just told you his name, his mind obviously elsewhere, probably drowning in the memories and the alcohol’s fog. You parted your lips as if trying to find your words, they didn’t come. The small details in his drunken speech seemed to confirm his identity as an avgin. It wasn’t one of the silver-tongued men but of an avgin, one of the last. You tried to continue the conversation:

“But you were blessed by Gaithra Tricolps. You are here, and you are someone powerful and you are quite fit at gaining money at the roulette.”

“Blessed… Lucky me, I guess! Luck makes powerful but my destiny not lucky, not just…”

“Then, how about we pray to the mother goddess for such luck and a happier destiny?”

His eyes widened at your proposition. You showed him your left hand to initiate the prayer, yet you saw his glassy eyes look at your hand like witnessing some kind of miracle.

He was about to take another gulp of his drink, but his hand was too shaky. He didn’t even know now if it was from the alcohol or the emotions, perhaps both, perhaps one facilitating the other. He approached his gloved hand and, after some clumsy movements, rested upon your hand.

You started the prayer, his voice being quieter. With each sentence, the blond went quieter and staring at the joined hands. You didn’t yet notice, at first closing your eyes in this ceremonial moment but when the prayer ended, you could see how his glassy eyes turned teary. You parted your lips trying to say something, hoping you didn’t do anything wrong, yet your surprising reflex was to embrace him.

You were shocked by your sudden gesture, and you couldn’t see Aventurine’s reaction. Though you could sense how tense his body was, how his shoulders were trembling. At first, you thought he would immediately pull away, and he didn’t. You let out a sigh and wrap your arms around him, not sure how it ended up like this. First you were dancing on stage, swirling to the tambourines and bells, and now you end up with a man – you didn’t quite process that he was an avgin just yet- in your arms.

You thought it would be another moment of silence. Not an awkward one, like when he entered your dressing room, but one of acknowledgment. One of contentment in which each other saw pain and sorrow. Yet this silent was broken by his slurred words:

“I should’ve saved her… I should’ve…”

You should hear the slurred words mixed with the throat tightening. The shoulders continued to shake in your embrace. Blond locks following his shaking. The taste of alcohol blending with the salt of the tears. Slowly dripping on your performance outfit, yet you didn’t care. It wasn’t about your outfit or treating him how the owner wanted. It was about helping him in his pain, comforting him. And you didn’t even know but it was the first time that anyone had treated him that way, that anyone had seen him in such despair, that any miracle had managed to quell his solitude.

Everything felt numb, his muscles tensing as if he couldn’t breathe. How would he dare to live? How was he allowed to? He was blessed, yet it was like a curse. He couldn’t bear to think that the one who didn’t come one was the closest to him. He had selfishly followed and ran, as far as he could, even though he knew something horrible was coming. And when he came back, it was too late: the cackling Katicans, blood drenching the golden sand, the fire devouring the tents. And of course, he had survived. He hated that he survived. Tears running down his cheeks and drenching the colourful fabric.

Yet, in this tender embrace, he could smell your perfume. Eyes slowly closing into those nights he longed for so much time: the warmth of the bonfire, the feast with spiced meals, the laughter and conversation swaying, music echoing in the valleys. It was the night of Kakava. Jewellery and colourful fabrics blending in the dance, his sister looking as beautiful as a gem, inviting him for a dance. The well-known steps coming back to him and following the music. You had come into the dance, and all laughed. He took his sister’s hand to give her a turquoise necklace, as precious as Gaiathra’s eyes, just for her to wear in this special occasion. He told her about all the travels he did, journeying far beyond Sigonia, of all the riches he gathered, of all his schemes that worked and some that didn’t. The tender embrace exchanged afterwards bringing him the warmth he so much desired. Sparks going back into his eyes as the warm embers of Hope coming back. They smiled and dance until the blinding dawn came. He turned to his sister and saw her smile, as bright as the sun.

Yet it was the same sunlight that awoke him. He rubbed his eyes and slowly looked around: he was laid down in his bed, with the same outfit as last night – well what he could remember of it – and his headache reminded him of his alcohol consumption. He could almost hear Ratio’s sermon about how alcohol kills his liver. He took out his phone and checked his messages and bank account, thankfully he didn’t spend anything drunk nor text any weird messages. There was only him in his bed, so he didn’t bring anyone home or they might’ve escaped before he woke up.

He slowly sat up, leaning on the headboard, and heard something fall onto the sheets. After rummaging a little, and taking a sip of water, he found a turquoise charm. He couldn’t quite remember when he bought it or if he won it yet there was some sense of familiarity. He approached it, made it shine in the golden rays before the realisation hit him: it was one that once was on your golden chain. As precious as Gaithra’s eyes yet you accepted to give one to him, a fellow Avgin. He swallowed his tears and stood up, one day he hoped to thank you. He didn’t look at his reflection this morning but if he had, he would see that glimmer of Hope back in his beautiful eyes.

[pondering-gales-left-orb]

i will not accept shane spouse room slander anymore im sick of it

I'm so mad at everyone who is mad at Shane's spouse room and i cant keep silent about it anymore

let me start by saying yes Shane was my first ever spouse in SDV and no i was not thinking i could fix him i was just impressed by his progress and self improvement so i had my character marry him

then i went online to see what are people saying about him and i was SHOCKED everyone was so mean to him and were absolutely wronggggggggggg about him

this man does improve himself he absolutely is better after marriage and everyone that's mischaracterizing that because of his spouse room is a coward sorry i don't make the rules

facts: Shane goes to therapy and starts getting his alcoholism under control by eliminating the source of his pain which is wasting his life away at joja and doing something he loves which is raise blue chickens THAT HE MADE MIGHT I ADD HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKENS BTW. that last point alone pisses me of so hard because people so often over look it! he is just as smart as Maru just as creative as Eliot and just as ambitious as Sam, let me repeat myself HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKEN WHILE HE WAS DEPRESSED AND SUFFERING OF ALCOHOLISM.... recognize his brilliance please

so that means people saying he falls back into his old habits because he has a six pack in his room is wrong, imo he stops being an alcoholic and goes back to having drinking be a hobby he does while gaming or hanging out with friends at the bar THAT'S THE POINT UR SUPPOSED TO GET FROM HIS HEART EVENTS

yes his room has mud tracks but consider this this man's WHOLE JOB is to RAISE CHICKENS IN A COOP !!!!! chickens who again he literally invented their breed who track mud shit and drop feed on the floor of the coop he is in all day!!! OF FUCKING COURSE HES GONNA HAVE MUD ON HIS SHOES!!

he works all day for his blue chickens and then just wants to come in and relax playing a video game and drinking a beer if he was a horrible dirty alcoholic like people claim he is he would track mud ALL OVER THE HOUSE AND DIRTY UP ALL THE HOUSE but no its just his tiny hobby room

you as a farmer also work all day on chores and after you are done you also just wanna do something fun to relax and guess what YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERY ROOM IN THE HOUSE TO MAKE INTO YOUR HOBBY ROOM some of you fill the house with kegs because you are making it your thing hell one of my farmers who was a witch had an entire room that's just crystals potions and a fucking cauldron , in my Shane save i had a room LINED with fish tanks that was my farmers Hobby, do you think Shane gets mad that i had 4 to 6 fish tanks running all day with puffer fishes and some legendary fishes stinking up the house?? NO because he gets his hobby room and the farmer gets their hobby room everyone keeps to their space period.

i think everyone needs to understand that having a messy hobby room is not a bad thing and that Shane and the other spouses have a right to their own room to look however they want and it doesn't have to match the house

everyone also needs to look at Shane in a better light please I'm begging you to let characters have small flaws and not be squeaky clean perfect

Shane sought help he is helping himself and trying to be better but that doesn't mean he doesn't get to indulge in some guilty pleasures he is human and is aloud to be one even while still in recovery! the difference now is that he HAS CONTROL OVER ALCOHOL AND GAMING CONSUMPTION AND IS NOT SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL LIKE BEFORE he has job he loves a family he takes care of and he makes sure he doesn't dirty up his entire house but gives himself a break in his ONE room and doesn't stop himself form having fun doing the things he enjoys without over indulging or falling into bad habits.

Edit: i know in the end the drinks are non alcoholic as confirmed by him and i mentioned beer and drinks cause i know there is non alcoholic Versions of them som.. but as i said im adressing the MISSCHARACTERIZATION of shane by the shane haters who didn't go through his heart events hence me saying "you are supposed to learn all this from his heart events" cause they dont go through them :D

Anyway,

in conclusion SHANE IS GOOD SPOUSE, a good man and an inventor in his own right. yall just need to be gentle to him in your judgment cause man is he trying his earnest and that needs to be recognized. i mean look at him look at this healthy man <3

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 4

Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.

In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.

“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”

Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”

Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”

Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”

Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”

“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.

Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”

Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”

Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.

****

Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.

Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.

Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.

Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.

He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.

She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.

“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”

Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.

Nope.

It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.

“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.

“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”

“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”

Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”

Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”

Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”

Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.

“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”

They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.

He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.

He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.

But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.

Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.

Then he came across the interview.

“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.

The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.

Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”

Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.

And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.

“What is the reason for the masks?”

Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”

Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.

Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”

Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.

“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”

Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”

Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.

Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.

“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.

That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”

“I think Abbadon is Steve.”

Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.

“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”

“Zoom in.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”

Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”

Jeff did as he was told.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.

“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”

Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.

“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.

Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”

Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”

Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”

Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.

“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”

Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”

Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”

“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”

Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”

Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.

“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.

“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”

Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.

This time he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”

Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”

“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”

Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”

Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”

Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.

Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”

Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #1] Purple Starfuckers

warnings: alcohol, clubbing

soundtrack: bad decisions - bts, passionfruit - drake, promiscuous - nelly furtado & timbaland

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

"Don't think of it as a bad decision. Think of it as a lesson learned. Something to remember for next time."

The way Hoseok looks at you is borderline comical - face all scrunched up, mouth hanging ajar. He's scowling, but it isn't new. He's had a face like a slapped arse all evening. Kinda goes with the territory of a fresh break-up, mind you.

"You don't seriously believe that?" He scoffs, before swallowing his words down with the rum and coke that he's been nursing for the past fifteen minutes. It tastes like shit, and is far too strong - but he's the one who asked for a triple. No one else to blame

The bartender had raised his pierced brow, told Hoseok that he's "not allowed to do that" - but had offered to make him a double and pour a separate shot, instead. "What you do with that shot is up to you," the bartender had shrugged - and so Hoseok had poured it straight on in. 

You finish your own drink with a roll of your eyes and shake of your head. "What I believe is that she wasn't 'the one', Hobes. Was a lucky escape, if you ask me. She was fucking vile to me and Danbi."

"You guys just didn't get to know her proper-"

"Hobi, she wore white to Jungmi's wedding," Danbi interrupted. Truthfully, she could not have cared less for how badly Hoseok's ex had treated her - it was when she started behaving badly around other people, embarrassing them in the process, that she started to take offence. If there was one thing Danbi had, it was pride. "WHITE! Who does that?! Poor Jungmi. She's a better woman than me. I'd have fought that bitch on the spot, right in the aisle. Don't care if it's my wedding day, when bitches deserve a slap-"

"Dan," you laugh but try and get her to quiet down, knowing that Hoseok is still reeling from the break-up. As true as her words are, he doesn't need to hear them right now. Turning to Hoseok, you stroke up his shoulder tenderly, with a soft smile on your glossy lips. 

You didn't cover yourself head to toe in glitter just to sit in the smoking area of a shitty club all night. There's fun to be had.

"Look, Hobes, it sucks that things ended the way they did -" a screaming match over the price of asparagus in the middle of a supermarket, that was totally an argument about something more than that, but Hoseok is still in denial - "but not everything we lose is a loss. Okay? You've still got us."

Which is admittedly more than he deserves after how much of a shitbag he'd turned into during the relationship. He'd go days, weeks - hell - sometimes months, without getting back to you. You and Dan had been fine - you had each other after all - but it still sucked not having your third musketeer with you. 

"Now c'mon," you smile. "Get that drink down you, and get that pretty ass of yours on the floor. We both know you're dying for a good dance."

"I don't feel like it," he groans - but he downs his drink regardless, and is dancing to a noughties classic within five minutes. 

You think it's Nelly Furtado - it is - but you're so drunk that you can't really place it. It's the kind of song that everyone knows; the kind of song that gets everyone's hips moving just right. Bodies are hot and sweaty, the clammy dancefloor a pit of sin. To you, though, it feels like heaven at that moment. This is all you've wanted for months. You're holding Danbi's hands, Hoseok between the pair of you, unable to escape and not really wanting to, either. He's smiling, and it's the best thing you've seen all night. 

The lights of the club beam down on you, pinks and blues reflecting the satin dress you're wearing. It's short, barely covering your ass, and silver. Picked out especially for a night like this; when attention is welcome, but not necessarily encouraged. You think you look like a trophy. Maybe someone will be lucky enough to win you. Maybe not.

From the bar, Jeon Jeongguk thinks you look like a little disco ball. 

He's wiping a tumbler dry, fresh from the glass washer, making most of the lull in customers coming to the bar. There are only three of them behind it, and it always makes Friday shifts feel that little bit more hectic. 

Dionysus, a club just on the outskirts of the party district, is always busier on a Saturday, so he prefers Friday shifts. A relatively small club, it has only a single dancefloor and a bar area with a few seats. The back entrance leads to the smoking area, which is where he'd first noticed you coming from with your friends. There's nowhere to hide, really, in a club like this. If you're in Dionysus, everyone knows about it. 

Especially the bartenders. 

"What do we reckon," Yeonjun, the youngest of the crew, smirks at Jeongguk as he nods towards you and your friends. "They all going home together, or what?"

A little air squeaks through Jeongguk's lips as he purses them, trying to get a read on your little trio. The way you're moving your hips towards the dude in the middle certainly seems a little more than friendly. At least, if a girl he'd never met before was dancing with him like that, he'd take it as a good sign he was getting laid. 

What makes it interesting is the fact that there are two of you. You in silver, another girl in black. Both pretty. Both incredibly different, but both captivating nonetheless. Like a pair of shooting stars, he thinks, cracking through the crowd at a vibrancy that could blind. Is a little confused as to how the fuck you aren't being pestered by other guys - doesn't complain though. Makes for a clear line of vision.

It's nights like these which make Jeongguk wish he worked a normal job. He misses out on all the fun always being behind the bar, he thinks. Does also save him from making some bad decisions that he knows would surely haunt him. If anything, he should be thankful.

"Fuck knows," he simply says, closing the glasswasher and whipping the towel over his shoulder. "10,000 won says he's going home alone."

Yeonjun smirks. "You're on."

It's less of a bet for Jeongguk. More of a manifestation. He likes watching you dance. Doesn't like the thought of you dancing with the dude by yourself. Doesn't like the idea of you leaving with him, either. Considers the fact that maybe you're not even interested in dudes, and that it's the girl you're holding hands with who you'll be leaving with instead. He's less intimidated by that - at least your disinterest in him would be preference based - but it's still not his favourite scenario.

It's not like he knows you, nor will he ever know you. He just likes to live in the what-ifs. They're always so much safer. Can't get rejected if you don't put yourself out there.

And so he carries on with work just like he should, serving the next punters who stumble to the bar. He pours them a water with their order, because lord knows they need it, and laughs when someone tries to pay for it thinking it's a vodka lemonade. 

"On the house," he shrugs, letting their drunk minds believe it really is a vodka lemonade. Easier that way. Will get them drinking water, at least, even if just for a sip or so before they clock on.

You're laughing, a little out of breath and not entirely steady on your feet, as you head to the bar. 

He'd been so busy with the last customers that he didn't even notice until he saw you using the bar to help steady yourself. You aren't looking in his direction, but up at the row of spirits behind him, trying to sus out what you fancy. 

Your hair is dark, up in a ponytail with grown-out bangs framing your face. The makeup you've been wearing has faded, melted off from the heat of the club, but the glitter remains. You really do look like a disco ball, he thinks. It makes him smile.

"Hey, sorry," you beam towards him, eyes just as sparkling at the glitter dusted on your collarbones. He raises his brows, expression open, receptive, as he moves closer to the bar. "What's something that can get me fucked up but also tastes delicious?" 

Oh, how he loves a challenge. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side. "What do you qualify as delicious?"

"No passionfruit," you say almost instantly. "So no pornstars." And then you gag a little, to emphasise just how much you hate passionfruit.

"No pornstars, noted," Jeongguk says as he pulls an imaginary pencil from behind his ear and pretends to jot it down on his palm. He looks back up at you, and doesn't bother fighting the way his teeth bite down on his bottom lip - why would he? You're giggling. He likes it. And he also knows you're probably drunk, so won't remember this interaction in the morning. 

"Well, I mean, none of the drinking variety," you grin, tongue in cheek. "If you happen to know any of the human variety, send them my way."

He almost chokes on his own spit. The shock in his eyes has you laughing again.

"I'm joking, you idiot."

Although you kind of totally aren't. You haven't been laid in a while. You'll take anything with a pulse who is interested at this point. 

"I knew that," he bluffs, and looks back down at his palm as if he's reading again. "Okay, so no pornstars - pornstar martinis. What else?"

"Don't like orange juice."

"Do you like anything?"

You like lots of things. So many things that your brain can't think straight, actually.

You like the way a tattoo is peaking out of his shirt sleeve. You like dancing with your friends. Being drunk. His smile. The way he's joking with you. The knowledge that Hoseok is probably doing the robot as you speak. Sunsets. The chain around the neck of the man in front of you. Those cute tiny straws he puts in some of the cocktails. Him.  

But you narrow your eyes, and ignore your brain. "Alcohol." 

He narrows his eyes right back. Purses his lips. Looks down at his fake notepad, then back up at you. "I think I have just the thing for you."

Reaching for the plastic cups which you know are reserved for water, you almost look offended. Does he not think you have eyes? Are too drunk to know he's giving you water?

He places it in front of you and smiles, lips together, eyes round - but still challenging you.

"It's water," you tell him, and he nods. No denial.

"Uh-huh. Cleanse your palette first."

"Are we fine dining?"

"We aren't doing anything," he assures you. He's on the clock. "But everything tastes like shit after a smoke, so if you wanna enjoy it, have some water."

Your brows furrow together, head tilting and then you're self-conscious. "Do I smell like smoke?"

You'd doused yourself in perfume and had been chewing on gum to hide it, but apparently not well enough.

Jeongguk shakes his head, realising how much wider your eyes are. You don't seem as confident. You're not smiling anymore. 

"No, no," he says quickly and nods toward your clutch, which is propped open on the side of the bar. A packet of cigarettes are sticking out slightly, a lighter tucked into the side. "I just guessed - sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, no. You don't. Not at all."

You follow his gaze, and find yourself smiling. Small misunderstanding. That's all. But he seems just as panicked as you had been. It's sweet. 

"Fine," you elongate your response and let your eyes narrow again, to let him know you're ready to banter again. "I'll drink it - but whatever you're making better be good."

"If you hate it, it's on the house," he says, knowing that you won't hate it. He sets about making your drink as you sip on the water, not really watching him because you're trying to focus on not falling over. Water actually seems like a great idea. You're thankful for it. 

When Jeongguk returns to your spot by the bar, he can't stop blinking. The glass of water - an entire pint - is finished. You're smiling, lips a little wet, eyes a little hazy.

"Thirsty," you shrug. 

He checks your jaw to make sure it's not grinding, but it's perfectly still. Not a gram of MD - the drug of choice in Dionysus circles - in your system. You just really are thirsty - had been dancing all bloody night. He knows this, but he's naive to how hot it is down there. Hasn't actually been on the dancefloor himself in a while. Always working.

He accepts your defence, and holds up the shot in front of you. It's tiny, and pretty, all purple and shimmery. 

Jeongguk smiles. "Purple Starfucker."

The water you've just finished almost comes back up through your system. "Sorry?!"

"Purple Starfucker," Jeongguk simply repeats. "Amaretto, peach schnapps, a little curacao and cranberry juice. Fucking delicious."

You do love all of those. It's the ideal drink for you. You've never had it before, but you know it's gonna be good. He places it down in front of you, but that challenging look is still in your eye. 

He laughs a little. Can't figure you out. Has no idea what you're thinking. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," you grin, picking the shot glass up by the rim, raising it with a nod. "To Purple Starfuckers."

Jeongguk nods back. Toys with his lip piercing, the tip of his tongue peeking out ever so slightly before he bites down on his lip. "To Purple Starfuckers."

From his peripherals, Jeongguk can see Yeonjun leaning against the countertop at the back of the bar, watching him with a curious smirk.

Un-fucking-believable, Yeonjun thinks. Reckons Jeongguk is trying to fuck with the bet. Trying to lure Disco Ball away. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he can read your lips - 'Holy shit? That's fucking delicious? How much do I owe you?' - and watches the way Jeongguk shakes his head. Hands too. Shrugs. Bloody git is giving it to you on the house. 

10,000 won ain't that much, but Yeonjun doesn't like losing. "Oi, Disco Ball. Get your friends"- he nods towards Hoseok and Danbi. -"We'll make you a round."

He ignores the way Jeongguk's eyes burn into him, knowing that his shit-eating grin is enough to wind Jeongguk up. They love each other really, but in a way you'd love a sibling. Fully capable of hating one another, too. 

You glance up to Jeongguk, almost as if you're asking his permission. You kind of are. You trust him. He's been kind. This other bartender? He's a bit louder. Far brasher. And he'd called you Disco Ball? The fuck?

Jeongguk nods. Doesn't want you to leave, but equally knows the only reason you're looking at him like that - eyes all wide and innocent - is 'cause you're drunk. Doubts it would be the same if you were sober. When he comes to think of it, he'd rather you were with your friends. Safer that way. "Hurry. Before we get really busy."

And so you scurry off, running on the balls of your feet to avoid awkward heel mishaps. There's something endearing about it and it's almost enough to distract him from Yeonjun's taunts. 

"If he doesn't take her home, I will."

"She's fucked," Jeongguk tells him, voice stern, eyes still on you. Fucking around with punters isn't against the rules, but taking advantage of drunk girls? Yeah, not on his watch. Doesn't matter who it is. He's seen enough creeps and enough girls in tears because of them to know when to step in. "You're going nowhere near her."

"I clock off in an hour," Yeonjun reminds him. Jeongguk the one who's closing the bar tonight. "Plenty of time to play catch up."

Yeonjun - brilliant, blue-haired, and with enough boyish charm to seduce almost anyone - isn't a creep. He looks up to Jeongguk. Respects him. Follows his lead. Would never take advantage of a punter. He just likes winding Jeongguk up a little too much. 

Jeongguk ignores him. Doesn't put it past him. While Yeonjun likes to think he has values, Jeongguk knows he's just as horny and desperate as the rest of the fuckers in the bar. 

That's not to say Jeongguk is discounting himself from the generalisation - he just actually does have morals. To some degree, at least.

You're on the dancefloor for no more than thirty seconds, dragging Hoseok and Danbi with you to the bar. They complain and moan - "but I love that song!" - though as soon as they're faced with a tray of shots, their moods shoot up. You go to pay Jeongguk, but he shakes his head.

"On the house."

"You're trying to get me drunk," you accuse with a knowing smile.

"You're already drunk," he smiles right back. It's not his goal. It's a fairly quiet night. If anything, this is entertainment. Not like there's much better for him to be doing. Not until his friends drop by later, at least. "I'm just a nice barman."

Part of you wants to protest. He's covered in tattoos - his hands, the ones peaking from his shirt at the wrist and the neck - and has more piercing in his ears than you do. There's a stud in his brow, and a ring on his lip. It's his eyes though, that you think scream danger the most. They're deep and they're dark, and you know better than to trust them.

And yet when he smiles like that, your tummy feels all fuzzy in the same way that your head does.

"Well thank you Mr Nice Barman," you nod and curtsey, because that somehow feels appropriate. 

"Jeongguk," he corrects, before knocking his head to the side and nodding towards the dancefloor. "Go enjoy your night, trouble."

Not too much, though, he thinks to himself, but watches as you bounce back to the dancefloor with your friends. 

The drinks were a small gesture, but one that he knows will have made a difference to their night. No skin off his back. He likes doing things like this. You're not the first, likely won't be the last - but he spends a lot longer than usual quietly observing you as you get on with your night. Doesn't notice the smile on his face.

Yeonjun does, though. Chooses not to say anything. Knows when to pick his battles.

Does warn him when he sees Jeongguk's friends bundle in through the door, though. "Watch out boss. Same as usual?"

Jeongguk nods, and Yeonjun sets about making a round of drinks for the usual suspects. Three malibu and cokes, one rum and lemonade and four purple starfuckers. Jeongguk'll make those. They're his signature. 

"Look what the cat dragged in," he grins towards his friends, all a little worse for wear. Bleary-eyed, they're smiling and joking, having come from dinner - which turned into drinks, and then more drinks and then - fuck it - clubs. Dionysus is always the final stop. They like the atmosphere; like the free drinks even more.

"You know us," Park Jimin grins at him in the sleazy way he so often does, which lets Jeongguk knows he's up to no good. "Where the pussy goes, we surely follow."

"Speak for yourself," Namjoon snorts beside him, a little more sober than the others. Taehyung and Yoongi are engaged in their own conversation - something about the Samsung Lions and baseball strategy that Jeongguk doesn't care much for. "Quiet night?"

"Fairly," Jeongguk nods - which can only mean one thing. Same thing it means every week. 

He'd always thought that by the time they hit their mid-twenties, they'd be over this lifestyle by now - but his friends like to make just as many bad decisions as he does.

"Round up boys," Jimin cheers, his voice booming above the bass of whatever noughties classic is on. "Purple Starkfucker time!"

Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head, rolls his eyes. Unfolds his defensive arms. Glances up to the crowd - but you're lost to the night. Maybe not forever, but for now, at least. 

And so he just nods, and cheers along with them.

"Purple Starfucker time."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[strawberrysnoopy]

ACT ONE: The Photoshoot, Part Three of Four

prologue, part one, part two. warnings: tobacco, smoking, alcohol use, briefest mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of infidelity (as always), ada slander at times (sorry), texting for a while, leon's a bit of a perv,

author's note: btw I left the husband without a name so there's no overlap on you and your husband having the same name and you live in new york due to the modeling thing. I also try my hardest to keep the reader ambiguous because I realize that skinny, quirky, white girls aren't the only ones that read this series: if there's anything you'd like to recommend or change in the writing to be more reader-friendly, drop in my inbox and let me know! :) thank you guys so much for all the reblogs and 100 FOLLOWERS AHHH!! thank you thank you thank you!

The warmth of your fingers working against his cool and paled skin had him melting like a runny ice cream cone in your hands. His hand was on your hip, rubbing loving circles like he was trying to commit the warm feel of your flesh into his memory. This was the type of life he envisioned when he was younger: married to someone he loved deeply with every crevice of his being. He thought Ada was the person for him, but that was such a costly and emotionally unbalanced guess. "Thank you, honey." You nod in response, applying the rest of the stitching to his busted lip. His hands dare to move a little higher on your hips, squeezing your waist and getting some sick pleasure out of the way your breath stopped in embarrassment. The scene was perfect, just a good ol’ friend taking care of her busted up pal. Leon hated that he couldn’t find you earlier, sooner, before he could even lay eyes on Ada Wong. She had her charms, sure, but there was something about the soft lull of your presence, how gentle you were, how caring you could be with others that had his heart fluttering in his chest. He still can't believe out of all the places he could've met you, it was at a store while you were buying a bottle of wine for yourself and your husband. "Met" would have to be an overrated word in his dictionary. The truth was that Leon had first laid eyes upon you in a magazine. They had released their February shoot that show-cased entrepreneurial photographers on the rise, climbing their way to the top without a care in the world who they scratched on their way there. You happened to be the diamond in the rough, making everyone else's cliche photographs of "lust" or "revenge" or "innocence" themes seem drab. Your theme? Limerence. Beautiful, simmering, and chilling limerence. Your hair was pieced together lazily but curled neatly, wearing simple yet cryptic tops and little boy shorts that lovingly cradled your ass. The rookie photographer that snapped your photos had done a stellar job at making it seem like you were one of those once in a lifetime girls you met in college. He still had the magazine of course, stashed away in the depths of his closet: kept in pristine condition like a filthy little secret he loved to indulge in. "So..." He muses. He feels the little pause in your work, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "How long have you known? About your husband's infidelity?" You've always known. The first? A college girl in the first year of your "official" relationship Bubbly and vibrant and a fucking joy to be around. The kind of girl you see on ABC's 20/20 or some other type of true crime prime-time film. Your husband claimed it was a drunk hook-up. And the first time, you believed him. The second? A school teacher that looked, acted, and talked exactly like you. Maybe she was your long lost twin or some weird rip in the fabric of time and she happened to pop out. He claimed he was mad at you for the way you did laundry. You forgave him a second time, but you'd surely have a knife to his throat the third time.

"A while. It's just like some weird fact I live with, I guess. Like you have some chronic disease and it's something you deal with from time to time." He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. He knows you don't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Yet, he always wondered why you stayed. Your husband was an asshole, although that shouldn't be a term that leaves his lips due to the fact he's supposedly your husband's best bud, but for the sake of doing the holy honor of defending you: he was a cheating dick that didn't deserve to be maritally bound to a woman such as yourself. "Wouldn't you get a divorce? I don't mean to be like...rude or anything but I would've thought that you're the type of woman to leave his ass once he cheats." And you were. Headstrong, confident, and self-assured—he's never seen an insecure model before, or maybe that's some weird stereotype he's made in his head unconsciously. "It's a tough situation." And that's all you have to say about your marriage. He nodded, understanding your reluctance to speak on the subject. He can't say he's any different from you either considering his marriage to Ada, the very reason he can't be with you. Especially so intimately. It’s hard. The safety of it all. Having someone next to you at all times despite the shitty relationship. He knew.

Now the bathroom is silent. You’re still doctoring up his wounds while he sits up on the marble counter-top. He really wants to say something until you step in for him.

“I can’t believe you fucked my husband up like that.” You say, pulling your hands away from his face to find some more antibiotic cream. He hates that he feels his head moving forward to get your hands back on him. Pathetic. He feels pathetic, especially considering he beat the dog shit out of your husband when you graciously invited him into your home.

“I’m sorry—“ He begins, you stop him once more.

“No. Don’t apologize. I was thanking you.” He nods again, finding the motion of moving his head back and forth too repetitive. “So, thank you.”

He boldly takes your hand in his own, squeezing it and kissing the palm—feeling like he’s turning into a crazy man when your fingertips brush against his lower eyelids and cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” He releases your hand from his own, feeling guilty for not saying more to you. He feels as if you deserve more than silence, and to be honest, with everything you've gone through this week, you definitely do. "I know I said it already but I'm sorry for saying that I wanted to—" He pauses, not wanting to be so crude with his wording but throwing caution to the wind as he had already fucked everything up so far. "Said that I wanted to fuck you, that's not fair to you nor your husband."

"It's okay if you do." His heart pulses in his chest at those words. He had expected you to ignore it, maybe slap him if you were really pissed. But you agreed? What the fuck, it's like he's living in a fucking alternate universe. "It's not a crime to find someone else attractive. The only thing wrong is if you act on it." That was true, but it never took from how much he dreamed about you. The times he's jerked himself off while thinking of your gorgeous body on his mind had grown to a disgusting amount. Hell, it's gotten to a point where he doesn't even fight it anymore and Ada being in the house used to stop him, but not anymore. He'll just go up to the bathroom and rub one out with your magazine in hand. "Then I guess I'm attracted to you." Your cheeks flush red at the admission, flaring a brighter color when his hand grips your hip once more. And tighter, too. Jesus Christ, the way this whole situation had been playing out like a steamy porno. First, your husband was gone in the hospital. Second, Leon was brought into your home. Alone. Third, he admitted he wants to fuck you. No, he has to resist. You were right. It's not wrong to be attracted to someone other than your spouse but you had him wanting to act. Wanting to drag you down to the marital bed you share with your husband and fuck you senseless. "So, do you want to stay the night tonight? Considering your car is broken down and everything." You ask, your tone beautiful and raspy like it always is.

Oh, God. He's gonna fuck you.

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