#this is the last thing I make before school starts

[littlechivalry]

Robin had gotten a lot of things from becoming platonic soulmates with Steve Harrington. Rides to school, hair care tips, unrelenting trauma, slightly bitchy dating advice that to her eternal chagrin actually worked, and entree into a weird little family that she couldn't imagine living without.

But also... Robin had to listen to sex talk.

It wasn't bad at first, she had actually gleaned a lot of advice from his stories that stood her in good stead with a few select girls. But then on the Family Video bathroom floor Steve had asked if Robin would be okay with him talking about sex with guys.

She said yes one time and now it was her life.

Steve had spent most of their shift moving tapes around the store, shuffling them into different genres based on what he thought they might be about. It was his standard 'I have something to talk about but I don't know if I can say it' behavior.

"Look," she said flatly. "I'm stopping this now. You have five minutes to sum up the problem and then I don't want to hear it anymore."

Steve put the last tape, a copy of St Elmo's Fire, into the Action-Disaster section before coming back to the counter, sharing his head. "I appreciate the thought Robbie but I don't think you're ready for this."

Robin gasped, ready to take full and dramatic umbrage when a Tasmanian Devil made of leather jacket and cheap sterling silver jewelry banged into the store.

"Babe, did you ask her," Eddie asked, grinning madly.

"Not yet," Steve whined and before Robin could gather her thought she felt two sets of eyes settle on her, one steady and concerned and the other sparkling with glee.

Robin stepped back from the counter and held her hands out in front of her. "I don't know what's going on here but no, I will not carry a baby for you two. Get Steve knocked up the old fashioned way if you want kids."

Steve brightened for a moment before pouting, "You wouldn't want to bring a little Buckley-Harrington-Munson into the world? Wow, Robs."

Eddie lunged forward, pushing past Steve to plant his hands on the counter. "We'll come back to that Buckley, but we have a different issue. We need you to be a completely impartial party."

"We really don't," Steve said. "This is not a big deal."

"I disagree," Eddie said. "I happen to think this is a very big deal."

"Well, and--," Steve said. "Isn't 'big' the problem?"

"It's not a problem for me," Eddie said, leering at Steve.

Robin stepped forward and waved her hands between the two guys, interrupting their creepy eye contact. "Okay, fine, tell me what's going on but make it snappy."

Steve hummed but didn't say anything. Eddie grinned and looked from Robin to his boyfriend and back again. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything Steve's hand was pressed half over his face.

"Eddie wants me to try sitting on his face but I'm afraid I'll, like, suffocate him to death." Steve grimaced and pulled his hand away from Eddie before rubbing it roughly on his jeans. "Gross, Eds."

Robin shook her head while they started squabbling. Steve was her best friend and Eddie was a close second. Part of being a best friend was apparently arbitrating their weird sex arguments.

The squabbling had evolved into a slap fight so Robin took the opportunity to examine them. They were the same height but Steve probably had a few pounds on Eddie. Then again Robin knew Eddie was stronger than he looked. Given the way Eddie hadn't stooped smiling since he walked in he definitely didn't seem intimidated by the idea.

Okay.

"Okay," Robin said sharply. "Knock it off. I decided."

The two boys stopped, Steve's arm locked around Eddie's neck while it looked like Eddie was trying to either give Steve a wedgie or just straight up shove his arm down Steve's acid-washed jeans.

It took a few moments for them to separate and put themselves back to rights before they were finally standing in front of her waiting for a verdict.

Robin looked from Steve to Eddie, then back again. She nodded towards Eddie before winking at her best friend. "If he dies, he dies."

"Thank you, Buckley," Eddie crowed, before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

"Where are you going," Steve called out.

Eddie turned back. "I gotta do some stretches, baby," Eddie said, rolling his neck. "I have plans." Eddie blew Steve a kiss before rubbing his hands together and walking out the door.

Robin looked at Steve, his hand still clenched in front of him where he had 'caught' the kiss, a bright red flush on his cheeks.

"I'm gonna marry that man," Steve murmured.

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNMATCHED

A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him. 

He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot. 

He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues. 

Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always. 

Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure. 

Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him. 

“Profesor! So good to see you here!” 

And here we go. 

It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests. 

That’s when he sees her. 

Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time. 

Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them. 

She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.

From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway. 

He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace. 

And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.

“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle. 

He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her. 

The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that. 

Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced. 

“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose. 

“S-Sorry, I don’t–”

“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”

She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes. 

“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”

“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly. 

He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks. 

“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”

“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh. 

“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”

“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”

“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”

“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”

The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman. 

“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads,  recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception. 

They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet. 

When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.

“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”

“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”

“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”

“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”

She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?

“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”

“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”

There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance. 

“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then… 

Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him. 

It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.

“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”

Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further. 

They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him. 

He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him. 

But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen. 

“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins. 

“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.

“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”

“Okay.”

Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.

He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts. 

Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I wanted it–”

“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”

“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[kill4luvina]

✧ Never Again ✧

"I got a feeling one of these days You'll be the reason I stay Way you whine, girl, you make me insane"

PossisiveBf!TojixBlack!Reader 

CW - Modern, Overly Possisive Toji, OOC, Toji Smoking, Unprotected Sex, Public Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie. Probbably more but I’m lazy and not proofread. (I havent posted in so long give me a break.)

Summary: You and your boyfriend of 3 years go out on a date to celebrate when you run into a old friend who obviously can’t read the room. In a hurry to finish the short reunion your boyfriend leaves angrily waiting for you outside the car to ready to take his frustration out on you. 

“Tojii, this place is so wonderfu!” You’d gasp holding onto his arm in awe, as you both entered the dimly lit restaurant. Your eyes glued to the white plaster sculpture of a winged figure riding a horse above you two. Your boyfriend woud smile knowing you loved sculptures and this would be the perfect place to spend you 3rd anniversary.

After being seated , about 30 minutes later you were caught off guard by a figure behind you. You quickly turn to see a bright smile. Gojo, one of your old friends from High school who seemed to have not aged a day over 20. Though you knew he was around 25, you smile back greeting him with a wave. “How are you?” He asked. 

You glanced over to your boyfriend who looked unbothered before bringing your full attention back to Gojo. “Oh I’m doing wonderful, You?” You smiled happy to see him, the last time you two spoke waas at the end of after a trip with your high school friend group. You two soon lost track of time talking for almost 15 minutes! 

You notice Gojo give a strange look before looking around in confusion. You turn to see Toji���s gone, your heart dropping. “I-” you couldnt form words wondering how long he had been gone for, if he left you or what. You struggle to make a sentence before gojo smiles a nods. “Go on, it’s my fault i interrupted.” 

You’d smile, “It was nice seeing you!” you’d say quickly getting up and speed walking to the entrance of the restaurant. Your silver glittery heels slightly slowing you down, which made you quickly take them off as soon as you got outside panicking as you jogged to where he had parked. “Toji?!” You’d call out startled when you didnt see his car for a moment.

“Right here mamas.” He’d answer from a little farther down making you sigh quickly, seeing the smoke from his blund rising into the dark night. You’d slowly walk to the direction of his voice until you saw him standing against his blacked out Lamborghini Aventador. “Toji, I’m sorry I got so caught up in the conversation..” You’d say looking at the ground.

He’d huff ignoring your apology just hitting the blunt, his eyes not even moving in your direction. He’d stand there silently listening to pleas, as you kept apolging, tears filling your eyes as you started to sniffle. Your voice cracking as you came closer to him pulling on his suit begging him to even look at you. 

“Y/n.”  Your heart would completely sink, he only ever called you by your name when you really fucked up. You’d look up at him, and he was now looking down at you. His eyes cold and low as he blew some smoke into your face. The Earthy scent mixed with his La Nuit De L'homme Yves Saint Laurent colonne making you weak. 

“Y-yes?” You’d answer, eyes watering even more scared at what he might say this time. “Mamas, what’d I’d tell you about guys talking to you?” He’d tilt his head, his eyes softening up as he noticed your tears starting to roll down your face. “N-not to pay them any mind, and I’m sorry he was an old friend!” You’d try to explain only to be shut up with a kiss. 

“I’ll let you get away with this one because it’s our anniversary. But you owe me one thing..”

You don’t know what possessed you to let this happen but you found yourself getting fucked agasint this mans car. Lamborghini to be specific, out in a public parking lot. 

“T-Tojii-” You’d whine feeling him drill in and out of your squelching pussy, tightening around him as you heard footsteps nearing. “Shh, they’re gonna hear..” He’d chuckle knowing they were going to see anyway. “F-fuckk. too deep-!” you’d cry as you felt him bury himself as deep as possible. His smirk grew as he watched a couple gasp seeing this. 

You’d let out a loud moan feeling him slap your ass, your dress pulled up to your waist and laced panties in his right hand. “Your being too loud..” He’d whissper in your ear still fucking your now creamy pussy. “How about..” Failing to fight back you found your panties now shoved in your mouth to shut you up, your eyes tearing up in embarrassment as you saw another man walk past. 

Unfortunately for you, it was someone you knew. The person who started all of this, you felt your tears start to pour as you couldn’t stop moaning from the pleasure but the embarrassment was too much. “Y/n?” He’d titled his head to the side in shock, feeling himself get hard before quickly walking off trying to pretend he never saw.

“Toji!” You’d scream muffled by the fabric in your mouth, you quickly spit it out turning back to look at him. He’d without hesitation push your head against the car window, “who’s a good slut?’ He’d ask fucking you even faster as you felt yourself reaching the edge. Your eyes rolling back as he brought one of your legs up to fuck you deeper. 

“Omg! Fuckkk!” You’d cry cumming all over his dick, feeling him thrust into you a few more times before letting his load out in you. “Look at you, a little cum dump.” He’d snicker as he pulled out, giving your ass a little slap before picking your heels & purse from the floor. You’d feel yourself get picked up and gently placed in the car. 

“Never do that shit again.” He’d say coldly before givng you a kiss on your forehead and coming around the to the drivers seat. You’d sit there silently just rethinking your life as you felt yourself drip  your boyfriends cum onto his expensive seats.

Little did the both of know of a few cars down sat gojo in his own car, windows rolled down half way, cum all over his stomach & chest. Breathing heavily with the feeling of embarrassment overwhelming him. He had sat there listening to you, just to get off to his fist? He didn’t feel okay after that one yet he loved every moment of it while it was happening.  

yall should i make a part 2 with gojo telling u to leave ur bf :)

"Bad man looking good in Dior Bad man drip to the core Sport car's parked on the right spot Bad man sleek and you know"

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: sub!nerd!Mark x Dom!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Jerking him off. Oral. Slight edging. I'm like a broken record when it comes to writing about sucking Mark off, my b <3

| wc: 2.3k

Sometimes the best way for Mark to study was with an incentive system— A way for him to earn rewards if he did his work. He had a habit of getting disinterested in his work easily because you were a fantastic distraction from his textbooks, even if you weren’t doing a single thing aside from lounging on the couch in pajamas. Mark just… he couldn’t care less about anything else whenever you were around. You were his everything. But to you, his studies should have been his everything because he was so close to getting his master’s, it was stupid of him to throw that all away just because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So you figured out when finals season approached and Mark was constantly throwing his work to the side to make out with you that if you gave him rewards for studying, Mark was eager to speed through his flashcards, textbooks, homework, and so on.

“When you’re done with your lab report, I’ll blow you.”

“When you’ve reviewed your final draft for your philosophy essay, you can kiss me.”

“Once you make your own comment on the assignment of the week, I’ll sit on your lap while you reply to two of your classmates’ comments.”

Mark had always been a good student, but somehow his grades were doing even better ever since you started the incentive idea. You were having to slow him down and stall on his rewards because, like a dog in training, he figured out that if he was a good student then you would touch him, so he was doing too much at once just for the chance to get your mouth on his cock, or even the opportunity to be inside of you. Usually he only got to fuck you after big projects worth about 20% of his grade… But since it was finals season, Mark was more worked up than usual, and he was incredibly stressed, so he was eager for more and more and more—

“I can’t keep doing this, baby, I’m too tired,” he whined, hiding his face in his hands before diving face-first against his open textbook. “If I have to read one more thing about how arteries work, I’m going to start tearing my hair out. Like, who doesn’t know this already! Why do I have to read seven chapters about bullshit I learned in high school!”

“How much more do you have left?” you asked, setting your phone to the side and sitting up on the couch.

“Two more chapters.”

“That’s nothing,” you whined back mockingly.

Mark lifted his head so that he could show you his pouting bottom lip and those big puppy-dog eyes behind his glasses. Why did you have to fall in love with a hot nerd, huh? A nerd would have sufficed. Or a hot jock. But a hot nerd was your kryptonite, and even though you knew he was baiting you to get what he wanted, there was no denying that he was irresistible when he was wearing his glasses, his hair long was a mess, and his pajamas were shifting around just enough to let you see the outline of his abs under his shirt and his cock in his pants. Ugh, he knew how to get you.

“Finish this chapter first,” you said, hoping to buy yourself some time.

Mark perked up thanks to the mysterious hope you’d provided him. His eyes began scanning the chapter at the normal, quick pace you were familiar with when he wasn’t protesting the idea of studying; and in the meantime, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked towards Mark. He hesitated briefly, but his gaze didn’t leave the textbook. He warily flipped the page, revealing that he was on the last few paragraphs before the next chapter. You watched over his shoulder to put some pressure on him to actually read and not just fuck around because even though you weren’t a nerd like him, you’d learned enough during his “rewards” to catch on whenever he was lying about doing his work just to get what he wanted.

“Done,” he cheered victoriously.

“How long’s the next chapter?”

Mark flipped a few pages in search of the chapter he didn’t have to read for homework. Six pages later, he found it and pointed.

“You think you can last ‘til then?”

Mark looked confused. “For what?”

With a wicked grin, you dropped down to your knees then crawled under the dining room table where Mark had set up shop with all of his study material in preparation for finals. You were having to eat meals on the couch since there was no room at the table anymore.

“Read the chapter aloud so I know you’re not lying,” you told him casually as you pried his knees apart to make room for yourself to settle between his legs. Mark leaned back so that he could watch you for a moment. “Don’t lose track of your spot either.”

As you grabbed the hem of his pajama pants, Mark aided your attempt to undress him by lifting his hips so that you could pull the fabric down, then he resettled on the wooden chair. Mark wasn’t unfamiliar with being naked on that chair— You liked to tie his hands behind his back and have him sit on that chair while you rode him until his head was spinning and he couldn’t get out a single word.

When you wrapped your hand around his length, Mark gulped, but he remembered what you wanted him to do in order to earn his reward, so he leaned forward again to put his focus on the last chapter of the night. You didn’t do anything to distract him for a bit. Despite his growing eagerness as shown by his hardening cock in your hand, you didn’t move or do something new— So Mark began reading the chapter aloud. Honestly, you weren’t paying attention. A lot of the science shit he studied went over your head, so even though you heard the words and learned a thing or two here and there, you never really… absorbed everything like he did…

Mark concentrated on the words in front of him, and as he began the next paragraph, that was when you began slowly pumping your hand up and down his long dick. He moaned suddenly. His ability to keep reading coherently faded, so you stopped your motions. Mark immediately bucked his hips upward to encourage you to keep going, but so long as he wasn’t studying, you weren’t going to give him his reward. When he recuperated, Mark slowly started reading again… You took a moment to believe him that he was actually ready, then you continued when you were doing. Mark moaned, but before you could stop again, he raced to keep reading at a faster pace, likely in the hopes that you would put him in your mouth or ride him, or let him fuck you…

Your tongue flicked Mark’s tip suddenly. The words of the textbook got caught in his throat, and within an instant he was leaning back to look down at you, his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. You stopped to look up at him. He whined at the lack of stimulation, but you grinned while cocking your head to the side, waiting for him to say something, to admit that he wanted more, or perhaps he would silently return to his work. In fact, that was what he did. He read the next line casually to give you time to get back to what you were doing. Two lines later, you caught him off guard by sucking him off again, your tongue swirling around his tip, your fingers playing with his base and even teasing his balls a bit to really get him worked up.

The third page turn marked him reaching the halfway point of the chapter without any more issues. He did his best to ignore you so that he could focus on his work, despite the fact that you were slowly working his cock towards an orgasm which you didn’t plan on giving him quite yet. He knew that. He read as fast as he could in order to complete the assignment sooner, but every time he fucked up a word or lost his place in the paragraphs, you paused to give him a chance to figure out how to reset. Unfortunately, whenever you stopped, you also edged him. He hated that. But you loved how cute he sounded when he was all submissive and desperate.

By the fifth page, Mark was losing it. He was stuttering through every word, moaning between sentences, begging for more at the end of paragraphs. You tried to show him a little bit of mercy by going slower so that you didn’t have to edge him as often, but even that couldn’t really help Mark. Poor thing. Before you, he didn’t have a lot of experience— A personal choice until he met you. He’d only kissed a guy, some friend of his, and one girl in middle school; and he fully intended on never thinking about dating again until after his PhD when he could think about getting married. However, he saw you in his ethics class, a required course which he was less than excited to be attending instead of the courses required for his master’s degree, and once he laid eyes on you, he knew that he had to have you, but there was one thing in his way. He definitely didn’t deserve you. The fact that you were so gorgeous and perfect and amazing and— Mark couldn’t believe that someone like you would look twice in his direction. What he failed to recognize, though, was that he was actually way out of your league, according to you, so you couldn’t believe that someone as handsome as Mark Lee would even glance at you.

Now there the two of you were, moved in together, happily dating, supporting each other through your degrees, and even teasing the idea of marriage whenever Mark got really sappy during cuddle-time late at night. His experience obviously grew in that time too. Mark liked to experiment with his sexuality, and that led him to discovering that he liked being submissive from time to time, especially when it came to things like rewards and punishments— Having structure in his life provided by someone else gave him comfort.

“Can I cum?” he asked suddenly.

You pulled off of him.

“Wait, wait, please, don’t stop—”

“You have to finish the chapter first.”

Mark shuddered. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I believe in you, baby.”

He swallowed a moan then continued reading. Something, something, arteries, something, something, blood, something— “I’m close! No, no, no…” His knuckles turned white as his fists tightened when you edged him again. Something, something… Nutrients… Something… Hormones… “Okay, I’m done, I finished, please!”

Sitting up on your knees slightly, you were able to angle yourself better to sink your mouth down over his tip while your hand continued to jerk off the first few inches down at his base. Mark grabbed your hair to hold onto something for balance. He didn’t push you down or buck upwards. He just let you take the lead while he used you to keep himself sane. Slowly, you swallowed every inch until there was no more room for your hand, and you could feel him tickling the back of your throat, which was uncomfortable just enough to cause you to go back up. Mark moaned with relief. Feeling your cheeks hollow out, your tongue dragging along his length, and your saliva coating every inch of him made his eyes roll behind those handsome glasses of his.

“Can I cum?” he begged desperately.

“Yeah,” you mumbled before sinking back down.

Mark squirmed, his tip hitting the inside of your wet cheek, then he thrusted upwards until he hit the back of your throat again, and even though you gagged a bit, he moaned and started cumming. He panted breathlessly through it. There wasn’t a lot since you’d drained him throughout the past couple of days, but the orgasm was strong enough that he threw his head back and clenched his thighs around your shoulders.

“F-feels so good… Fuck… Thank you… Thank you…”

As his orgasm passed, he slumped in the chair. You allowed him a minute to catch his breath while you also used that time to swallow every drop he gave you while also trying to regain your composure.

“Fuck, I’ve got a headache now.” Mark reached to help you to your feet.

You kissed his forehead. “Take a break from studying, then, we’ll get some rest for a bit.” You continued to hold his hands as you pulled him to his feet too then calmly led him to the bedroom. Mark crashed on the bed in an instant. “Gotta take these off first, babe.” You carefully slid his glasses off his face and set them on his bedside table. “There you go.”

Mark grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him to cuddle close and nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck lovingly. “Do you think I’m going to pass my bio exam?”

“You’re studying more often than not, so, yes.”

He chuckled. “You’re biased.”

“Then why’d you ask me, silly?”

Mark squeezed you tight and rolled over so that you were laying beside him, giving you ample room to squeeze him back. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve helped me a lot this semester.”

You kissed the top of his head and played with the end of his long hair that laid against the back of his neck. “Any time.”

taglist: @theycallmesya @henderysposts @trash-number-one @botchedbrat @n0hyuck

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@daryaa8a @funnyvxlentine @crazylittlebisexual @armaegddn

[homesick4la]

complicated — hamzahthefantastic

1. pushing it down and praying

contains: a little cheating..smoking, some nsfw content but nothing crazy

summary: after half a year of no contact, you run into your ex at a party.

a/n: kinda got this idea from the lizzy mcalpine song bc i am obsessed with it. so listen if you haven’t lol. also i decided to split the fic but it’s only gonna be two parts!

it’d officially been six months since you and your ex boyfriend went no contact.

the first few months were hell for you.

of course, you went through the stereotypical phase of eating ice cream and crying to rom-coms directly after your break up. but that short-lived phase gradually shifted into one that was much more melancholic once the two of you decided to go no contact.

everyday that you woke up, you were engulfed by an emotional numbness. a dull pain that served as a constant reminder of your grief.

you were grieving what the relationship was and what it could’ve been.

you had always envisioned your future with hamzah in it which is why the lack of communication between the two of you left you absolutely soulless.

you had never experienced such an intense love before him. everything was picture perfect in the beginning. it was even better than the movies.

but after two years, the miscommunication between you to became destructive.

things that should have been minor disagreements escalated into full blown arguments. you’d yell over each other, ignoring each other’s feelings and growing overwhelmingly defensive.

eventually, it became exhausting. you were both so angry all the time and too stressed with work or school to address it properly.

ultimately, you two mutually decided to call it quits. additionally, you later agreed that going no contact would be the best option for both of you.

now, half a year later, you were finally trying to move on.

after reading an endless amount of self-help books, you learned that after experiencing every stage of relationship grief (which you had), you theoretically should be ready to search for love again.

despite your reluctance, your best friends had forced you to join all the dating apps- urging you to hook up with someone new to get your mind off your ex.

it took days of swiping left on men that were literally the epitome of a walking red flag for you to finally find a man suitable enough to go on a date with.

his name was matthew. he recently graduated from college and instantly started a 9-5 working in finance. he spent his free time hiking. he had a golden retriever.

he was kind. he was stable. but he wasn’t hamzah.

you two had gone on a few dates. you had even hooked up after a couple of them.

as guilty as it made you, each hook up was spent closing your eyes- imagining hamzah on top of you. that it wasn’t matthew deep inside of you but it was hamzah; the one that knew your body like the back of his hand and knew just how to please you every time.

you were giving your all to this “moving on” stage but you simply weren’t satisfied.

that being said, when matthew had asked you to attend an old friend’s party with him on your last date, you politely agreed.

now here you were, shuffling through a crowd of sweaty bodies with a man that barely knew you guiding you by your waist.

“how do you know the host again?” you ask, nearly yelling over the music that was blasting through numerous speakers.

“he’s a friend from my hometown, remember? from ottawa?”

“right, right. i remember now.” you look up at him. you did not remember.

you two make your way into the kitchen. he pours shots of vodka into red solo cups and hands one to you.

you feel the familiar burn of alcohol stinging your throat as you down the shot.

“you look gorgeous tonight by the way. forgot to tell you earlier.” he tells you, running his hand up and down your waist.

hamzah would’ve told you earlier. he would’ve been kissing up and down your neck before you even finished your makeup while getting ready. reiterating how beautiful you are each time his lips left your skin.

fuck. there you go again. comparing everything matthew said or did to hamzah.

he’s not in your life anymore, you think to yourself. it’s time to get over him.

“thank you.” you answer matthew, mustering up a smile.

“you ready to go meet my friends?”

“yeah, let’s go! i’m excited to meet them.” you were lying straight through your teeth. but you continued to put on this enthusiastic act simply because he was nice.

he leads you to the main room where you meet a couple of his hometown friends. one named kyle. another named josh.

they were essentially carbon copies of matthew. frat bros that grew up and became finance guys.

you quietly listen as the boys catch up on one another’s lives.

until something, someone, catches your eye.

hamzah. he was across the large room with his back faced toward you. but it had to be him.

you could recognize the shape of his shoulders and you knew that those dark curls stuffed under a camo hat could only belong to him.

you stomach drops. somehow, you had never ran into him since the breakup.

the sight of him mixed with the alcohol made you sick to your stomach.

“hey”, you tap on matthew’s shoulder. “i’m gonna go find a bathroom real quick.” you explain.

“okay, just come find me when you’re done.” he replies before resuming his conversation with his friends.

you turn around, walking in the direction of a long hallway that you knew must have a bathroom.

you turn the doorknob of the first door you find and miraculously, it is a bathroom.

you clutch onto the counter, letting out a sharp exhale.

one of your hands grips to your stomach while you continue taking deep breaths.

in for 4. hold for 7. out for 8. you repeat.

a breathing technique that hamzah had taught you.

you hear the doorknob rattle. before you can say anything, the door is being launched open.

“oh shit! sorry!”, you hear a familiar voice as the door is being pulled closed again. “wait- y/n?”

the voice belonged to mandy. hamzah’s bestfriend’s girlfriend. you forgot that her and martin were from ottawa. they must’ve known the host of the party.

she steps inside, shutting the door behind her.

“are you okay? what’re you doing here? i haven’t seen you in so long.” she pulls you into a hug.

“yeah i’m here with some guy i’ve been seeing. but i saw hamzah and just needed to take a sec.” you explain during your embrace.

she pulls away, looking in your eyes.

“did he see you?”

“no, he was facing the other direction.”

“oh okay”, she nods and looks down.

“yeah. i haven’t seen him since we ended things so, it gave me a bit of panic attack.” you chuckle awkwardly.

“i’m sorry, y/n. break ups suck.” she pauses, “when i went through my first break up, i saw my ex at an amusement park about a month after. and i got so upset, i threw up in front of one of those stupid basketball games where you can win a big teddy bear.”

you laugh at her story, “seriously?”

“yes! it was so bad, the worker ended up giving me one of those huge bears out of pity!” she exclaims.

once your laughter dies down, mandy breaks the silence once again.

“he still talks about you, you know. every once in a while.”

every once in a while. you had thought of him every single day.

“every once in a while?”

“yeah. seems like most of the time it’s too hard for him to talk about. but sometimes, he can’t help himself.”

maybe he did think of you as often as you did.

“anyway”, she continues, “whose this new guy?”

she smirks teasingly.

“ugh. mandy, he’s so boring! but he’s so nice! he’s just- he’s nothing like hamzah. i don’t know- he’s really sweet, it’s just not, exciting? i guess?”

she nods. “well, if you want my advice..i say you shouldn’t stay with someone just because they’re nice to you. a lot of people are nice. only a few people will make you feel ‘sparks’ or whatever.”

you nod understandingly.

god you missed talking to her.

“i gotta get back to martin but if you want to talk to hamzah, he went out on the balcony. and let’s not have to run into each other at a random party to catch up again, ‘kay? text me.”

“okay.” you hug her tightly, “we’ll go for coffee soon.”

she smiles before exiting the bathroom.

you look into the mirror, trying to decide if going out on the balcony is a good idea.

“fuck it.” you whisper to yourself.

you didn’t know when you’d ever get the opportunity to speak to hamzah again. you had to go out on that balcony.

you walk out of the bathroom, sneaking past matthew who was still deep in conversation.

turning the corner past the main room, you find the sliding glass door to the balcony.

there he is. alone. sat on the small balcony, lighting a joint that hangs between his lips.

with his camo hat he wore a pair of dark wash jeans and white t-shirt.

you take a deep breath before reaching to slide open the door.

his head instantly whips towards you, his eyes widening a bit.

“hi.” you break the silence. you feel awkward. what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been completely heartbroken over for the last six months?

“hey.” his eyes soften as he speaks.

“i, um- ran into mandy. she told me you were out here.” you explain to him.

he nods slowly. “come sit.” he pats the space on the floor next to him.

you do as he says. plopping onto the ground and pulling your knees to your chest.

he takes a drag from the joint between his fingers before pulling it out and handing it over to you. you two had shared a joint countless times during your relationship, making the action feel natural.

you bring the joint to your lips, sucking on it for a few seconds before blowing out the smoke and handing it back to him.

“how’ve you been?” he asks.

his voice was calm. you wondered how he could act so nonchalant in this situation.

“i’ve been okay. school’s been stressful.” you say, trying to avoid ranting about the emotional turmoil you’ve experienced since you two separated. “how about you?”

“good. just working a lot. martin and i upload multiple times a week now and run the merch ourselves so it’s been busy, but it’s fun.” his face lights up as he talks about it. he’d always been passionate about his career.

“that’s great, hamzah. i still remember when you had him up on that cracked screen just to have him on the pod.” you laugh.

“oh god, it was a shit show trying to get that thing to run properly.” he chuckles at the memory.

it falls silent for a moment.

“you still gonna become a journalist?” he asks, cocking his head to the side while looking at you.

“that’s the plan, yeah.” you answer.

“good. you were always good with words.”

“yeah?” you smile.

“of course, it’s why i was always calling you smarty pants.”

you chuckle at the nickname you’d forgotten about.

“i thought you were calling me that because of my attitude.” since childhood, you were teased for being bit of a know it all.

“i mean- yeah that was part of it.” he laughs, “but it was mostly because of that big brain of yours.”he taps his pointer finger to your temple.

“well, i don’t feel very smart these days.” you admit. “my grades have been slipping.”

“seriously? how come?”

“just had a rough last couple months.” you try to remain vague.

“your new guy not keeping you happy?”

your eyes widen. how did he know about matthew?

“did you see me with him inside?”

“yeah. i was about to walk into the kitchen when i saw you two together.”

you exhale deeply. “oh, uh. sorry about that.”

“answer my question, y/n.” his voice was low, serious.

“what?” your voice tinged with confusion.

“are you happy?”

you think for moment. you could lie, tell him you’re happy, let him believe that you’ve moved on. but everything in you wants to be honest with him.

“i’m trying to be.” you respond quietly before taking the joint from his hands and up to your mouth once again.

his eyes were glued to you as pushed the smoke from your mouth, like he was studying your face.

“that guy’s not right for you.” he shook his head as he spoke.

“hamzah, you don’t know him.” you’re not sure why you feel the need to defend matthew but you do.

“i can see what kind of guy he is—the kind that can’t even begin to grasp the complexity to you.” he explains.

“you’re high, hamzah. and you’re jumping to conclusions.”, you shift your position on the ground, “based on looks, might i add. didn’t they teach you not to do that in elementary school? the whole don’t judge a book by its cover thing? did you tune that part out?” you say as you stand from your spot. it pained you how well hamzah could read people- how accurate his description of matthew was.

“baby all this rambling makes it seem like you’re avoiding the truth—that he’s not good enough for you. and you’re not happy. i mean has he even noticed how long you’ve been gone?”

you forgot how stubborn this man could be.

you let out a defeated sigh. “it’s none of your business, really. and you’re right, i’ve been gone too long. i should get back to him.”

you steal the joint from his hand and take one last drag before you start to walk back towards the sliding glass door. you hear hamzah rise to his feet behind you.

“y/n, wait.”

you turn around, facing towards him again. “yeah?”

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.” he apologizes.

“s’okay.”, you shrug your shoulders. “it was nice running into you.”

he nods agreeably.

you turn back around, beginning to accept that this was it. your last few seconds with him before you were back to no contact.

your hand reaches the sliding glass door, about to pull the door open when you hear hamzah’s voice once again.

“y/n, don’t go.”

don’t go.

“what?” you question, furrow your eyebrows.

he takes slow steps toward you, ditching his joint by throwing the remains of it to the floor.

he keeps walking towards you until you’re just a foot apart. he grabs your hand, pulling you to him and shifting your bodies so your lower back rested the black metal railing of the balcony as he stood directly in front of you.

his face was inches from yours. you could so easily lift your head and kiss him.

“come back to my apartment with me.” he whispered.

“why would i do that?” you replied, feeling the pace of your breath quicken due to the close proximity.

“because you miss me.” the corner of his mouth upturned into a cocky smirk. “and i miss you.”

you were speechless. all you could do was stare into his eyes, trying to decipher whether or not those words had actually just left his mouth.

you swallow harshly before speaking, “i’m here with someone else, hamzah. i’m going home with him.”

you try to stand your ground, but god you wanted to give in.

he scrunches his nose and shakes his head as he places his hands on the metal railing behind you, trapping you between his arms.

“but he doesn’t know you like i do.”

before you can respond, you feel his fingers brush your hair away from the side of your neck.

he places his hands on waist as his head falls to your neck, his plump lips hovering above your skin. your head instinctively leans to the side, giving him full access.

“does he know how much you like being kissed right here?” he whispers softly, feeling his lips move on your skin as he speaks.

he presses his lips to place where your neck and shoulder meet, remembering how much this spot had an effect on you.

you shut your eyes in utter satisfaction. you hated how much of an effect he had on you.

you bring your hands to his neck, then weaving your fingers through his curls as he continues kissing, sucking, and nipping at the sweet spots on your neck.

his hands float down, gripping onto your hips- another minuscule touch that he knew drove you crazy.

with his hands on your hips, he pulls your bodies closer. suddenly, the thought of matthew has completely vanished. you’re completely caught up in hamzah, and it felt so good- indulging in his recognizable scent and familiar touch.

you let out a soft moan as his hand falls to your ass, grabbing it shamelessly.

“hamzah, hamzah— i can’t, we can’t do this.” you say breathlessly, using your hand to tap on his chest.

hamzah steps back, his breath unsteady as watches you carefully, his gaze lingering on your lips. for a moment, you think he isn’t going to say anything— that he was just going to turn around and walk away.

but then he leans, his voice low “meet me outside in five.” his tone carrying both a question and a promise.

you feel a rush of nerves as he walks away, opening the sliding glass door and slipping back into the crowd.

you stay out there for a moment, catching your breath.

you shouldn’t go. you know you shouldn’t.

but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you.

a/n: yuppppp part two coming very very soon and it’s gonna pick up right where this leaves off. sorry if this is long and boring, tbh i just needed something to distract myself from everything going on lol…k bye muah

[sirsl1ttl3secretary]

I was thinking more like training me to dress sluttier wear more make up getting lip fillers etc and then start making me think about cock all the time so any time I’m alone in a room I can’t help but start rubbing my clit or playing with my nipples then as it progresses any time I’m in the house no matter if others are around I’ll be playing with myself then but you never acknowledge it making it as normal as sitting on my phone. Then as it goes further any time I’m awake all I can think about it playing with myself so I come to you and ask for help. That’s when you teach me the secret to help that feeling… the only way to stop it is to fill up my hole first with small toys like a bullet or a tiny little dildo making me get off on them for a month normalising me fucking myself in the house and car and anywhere else you want me too until I tell you that it’s stopped working or you catch me playing with myself in inappropriate public places then you buy me a new one a little longer and a little wider never admitting you got it me but leaving it on my bed to get home too this process lasts months just going up by half an inch in length and a quarter in width until I’m at your width then each month they just get longer till finally you give me a very special toy it’s s perfect copy of your cock from one of those make a dildo kits you make me use it for longer than the others so you know the effects of the silicone dildo have definitely long past and I’m so needy I’d do anything for release. That’s when you catch me wearing the dildo to school stuffed in my pussy held in place by my panties. We’re in the car almost at school when you find notice your cock becoming erect quickly. Finally… it’s time you think to yourself as you confront me my crop top shows so much underboob and cleavage it might as well not be there and my tiny mini skirt doesn’t do much to help hide what I’ve done. You pull into a nearby empty lay-by that’s just off the main road and leads down to a little parking area once we get there you tell me to open my legs which I do my puffy lips looking radiant in the early morning light. You move my panties to the side and rip out the dildo asking me what the hell I am doing. I pout and look confused before saying “filling my hole daddy” you throw it on the floor and firmly say “get out the car right now!” Without even putting my panties back in place I do as I’m told standing outside the car waiting for what will happen next when you walk round the car open the back door pulling me to the open door you say “this was a very naughty thing to do so now you will be punished. Stand with your legs straight and bend over so your body is lying flat on the seats and your ass is right up in the air. I do as I’m told the cold morning air swirling around my wet needy hole sending shivers through my body. You start to spread my legs a little wider opening my hole even further exposing me the the breeze before saying “your punishment is 5 slaps” you pull your hand back and get ready to spank me hard the tears of teasing taking over and come down hard on my left ass cheek “one” then again “two” now you swap to my right cheek “three” then you get an idea you go again on the right cheek “four” then pull my legs open lining your hand up with my clit before spanking it the hardest of all the hits “five” as soon as you make contact with my clit a moan erupts from my body it was an erotic deep begging moan “daddy I’ve been so naughty punish me again please daddy, I don’t think 5 was a big enough punishment I haven’t learnt my lesson please daddy… punish me harder” the words escape my body before my brain has even processed what’s happening making you chuckle and say “okay then baby if you insist” you spank my clit five more times each time making me wetter and wetter until you know it’s time. You undo your trousers and pull them down a little before bending over me to whisper in my ear “this is what it really means to fill your hole” as you pull on the elastic of your boxers your cock leaps out desperate to finally take what is yours

[buckevantommy]

What about all of this is real? We are.

This is not how they end. 

It hasn’t even been a week but it feels like a fucking eternity. It’s not the first time Buck’s been dumped, not the first time someone has walked out on him when he wanted more, but it’s the worst heartache he’s ever felt and he knows– he knows it’s because this isn’t how things are supposed to go for them. 

He’s done feeling sorry for himself. He’s not giving up on Tommy, on what they have together. 

And he doesn’t think Tommy is done with them, either. 

* 

The drive to Tommy’s house isn’t fast but it passes in a blur; between the peak hour traffic and usual gridlock he has plenty of time to ruminate on everything he wants to say, and all the arguments Tommy can throw at him and all the ways Buck can rebut them. 

Pulling into the drive, he doesn’t notice the unfamiliar car parked next to Tommy’s truck. He’s walking up the front path and knocking with insistent force before he even registers leaving the jeep. He’s on a mission. 

Soon as the door opens Buck is barging his way inside. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me or how I feel!” 

With a resigned, if somewhat bitchy sigh, Tommy mutters, “Come on in,” and closes the door behind him. 

“I know how I feel about you and it isn’t some passing infatuation, Tommy– I love you!” He goes harder than he means to, and heavier on the blame, but he thinks he gets the main points across. 

Tommy stares at him for a moment, not saying anything. Buck starts getting restless again. If Tommy has nothing to say to that then Buck has plenty more. He gears up to lay the rest of his cards on the table–

When someone clears their throat behind him. 

Buck whips around to find a strange man standing in Tommy’s living room, beer bottle in hand. 

“Oh.” A pang of something ugly lances through Buck’s heart. “Guess you moved on faster than I did,” he mutters darkly.

The mystery man cracks a humorless laugh. “Not fucking likely.” 

Buck doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Sal Deluca,” the man says, stepping forward and extending his hand. Buck takes it, incandescent jealousy and the throbbing heartache that’s made breathing difficult all week making way for a numb sort of recognition. He’s heard mentions of Sal, and the face clicks with some old photos he’s seen in Tommy’s photo albums; because Tommy’s old school like that and has printed photos in physical albums people can flip through. Sal is an old friend of his who moved away years ago. “Worked with this lug back at the 118,” he says. “And we are not boning or romancin’ each other.” 

Buck catches Tommy rolling his eyes. 

“In fact, I’m in town for the first time in almost a year and what do I find? This idiot throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” 

“Sal.” 

Sal ignores Tommy’s warning tone, trains his eyes on Buck, his voice pitched low and sincere. “I don’t even know you, but I know that much.” 

He leaves with a clap to Tommy’s shoulder and something muttered that sounds like, “Don’t screw this up again,” and then he’s out the door. 

“You should go,” Tommy says quietly, when it’s just the two of them standing there, too far apart.

Now that Buck gets a better look at him, Tommy looks tired. Ragged. Like he hasn’t slept in a week. Buck can relate. “No.”

“Buck–”

“Don’t you dare.” He tries sounding fierce but it just comes out broken. He’s never been ‘Buck’ to Tommy and he sure as hell doesn’t wanna start now. That name means they’re over, and he’s not letting that happen without a fight. “I said, I love you.”

“I heard you.”

“And, what? You don’t believe me? Or you think I’m too dumb to know when I’m in love with someone?”

“I never said that–”

“I’ve been in love before, Tommy– more than once. And just because they were women and you’re the first guy I fell for doesn’t make what I feel any less real!” 

“But it doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”

He sounds tired, too. Like maybe he’s been up all night every night thinking about them. Maybe he leaned on Sal like Buck’s been leaning on Eddie; a good friend who lets you pour your heart out until there’s nothing left but a hollow ache in your chest, drained eyes and confusion. 

But the worst part is how resigned he seems, like it’s over and there’s nothing to be done about it. There’s a lot Tommy hasn’t thought through properly. 

“I may be new to being bisexual, but that doesn’t mean my heart is new. And frankly, it’s pretty insulting of you to assume I don’t know what I’m feeling, or how I’ll feel months or years from now.” 

That seems to land like a blow, Tommy’s already creased brow pinching as he looks away. “You don’t have experience with men–” 

And that fucking does it. “I’m not a kid, Tommy! I don’t need you to tell me what I need! And I’m not any of those guys who hurt you– doesn’t matter if they were gay, or bi, or whatever!” Buck wants to yell at him some more: call him a coward, an asshole for predicting the worst in people.  

Tommy shakes his head. He still doesn’t look at Buck.

“You don’t get to just end this because you’re scared. That’s not how this works– we’re supposed to talk about it.” It’s been a constant in their relationship: talking things through. It’s the first relationship Buck’s had with such an open and honest line of communication, and there’s no way he could go back to anything else. 

Tommy looks up, then, and meets Buck’s gaze. His eyes are watery and his words come out choked. “I don’t want to end this.” 

“Then don’t,” Buck pleads, daring to close a bit of the distance between them. 

Tommy pulls back. Not far, and not much with his feet, more with his shoulders, but it’s enough to make Buck’s heart sink. 

Because Tommy is denying himself – like that night before he first kissed Buck and changed his life for the better; he was so hesitant to believe that he was part of their team, too – he’s not letting himself have something good because he doesn’t think he deserves it, doesn’t think it’s real. “We’re not too good to be true.”

“What?” 

“You said that, about the parking space,” Buck recalls. He’s run the conversation over in his head a thousand times since that night.

“That’s.. not what I meant.” Tommy seems less convinced by his own words, now. 

“Every other relationship I’ve had has fallen apart because I didn’t see the end coming,” Buck admits. “Because we weren’t compatible. And part of me was worried with you, at first, because I’d always been the one who ends up alone.” It’s painful to think about, to think Tommy could be just another in a long line of people Buck wore his heart on his sleeve for but who didn’t want him as much in return. “But you kept proving to me over, and over that you were there for me, and you wanted me around, and you didn’t think I was too much.” Buck has to swallow around the desperate rasp coming through in his voice now. He blinks to keep his vision clear.

There’s something there, then: a look on Tommy’s face telling him plainly that he could never be too much for him, that that’s not what this about. And there’s something else familiar, too: fear. The same glimpse of fear Buck saw that night before Tommy walked out on him. The same kind of fear Buck’s seen in the mirror his whole life. 

Tommy’s afraid they won’t last. 

Tommy’s afraid he’s not enough. 

“Please don’t think like that,” Buck pleads again. “Like there’s an expiration date for us.” 

“I can’t help it.”

“Yes, you can!” Buck erupts again, frustrated with how willing Tommy is to just roll over and let their relationship die. “Just believe in us! Tell me what I have to do to get you to believe how serious I am about you– how much I care about you, and see you for who you are, and want all of you for as long as possible.” 

Tommy shakes his head, eyes downcast, and Buck can’t take it anymore– he closes the remaining distance between them. Stands toe to toe with Tommy, proximity alone silently demanding he listen to what he has to say.

“Hey,” he says softly, but with that same dogged determination that’s been distilled over the years into something less reckless and more mindful. He curls a finger under Tommy’s chin, gently nudging it up until he looks at him. 

There’s armor in place, but Tommy’s peeking through. And he hasn’t moved away. He hasn’t given up, not completely. He needs Buck to fight for them, to know they’re worth fighting for. Maybe then he’ll finally believe they can make it.

“I love you. I’ve been searching my whole life for a love like this, so don’t tell me this isn’t real– I know how I feel,” Buck insists, then calms. “And I think you feel the same.” 

“Evan–”

“You don’t get to end this because you’re scared. That’s not how this works. And I’m not giving up on us. So you can fight me, or you can fight for us.” 

Tommy exhales a shaky breath, averting his eyes again. Buck can see the tears making them wet, tracking down his cheeks as he ducks his head. He can hear them in the way Tommy’s voice wavers. “You think too highly of me, kid.” It’s not a jab, the name. Tommy’s protecting his vulnerable underbelly. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Tommy takes a beat. “I want to,” he confesses, quiet in the small space where their bodies don’t touch, could touch but not yet; he’s holding his breath. 

Buck braces himself. “Do you love me?” It’s a simple question, one he’s pretty sure he knows the answer to. But those few seconds before Tommy speaks are nerve wracking as hell and long enough for a thread of doubt to try to weave its way back into his mind – the same doubt he’d finally quashed before he jumped in his jeep and drove across town: what if he read this all wrong? What if Tommy doesn’t actually love him? His own breath catches painfully in his lungs; he’s on a precipice, heart balanced for a freefall that could see him plummet to the ground, or.. or spread wings, and.. fly. 

Tommy lifts his head, his beautiful eyes rimmed red and making his irises that much bluer by contrast. “Evan, I’m so in love with you,” he breathes out; a sigh of anguish, like truth and painful honesty, airing grievance out into the world so that it might ease the weight sitting on his chest, the kind that makes it hard to breath, hard to exist. “You’ll be the death of me, kid.” 

It’s not the first time he’s said that, although the other times were under very different circumstances. But it was always playful, and Buck can see the words for what they are now: a defense mechanism. Buck’s heart aches for him, but Tommy’s admission also sets something aglow in his own chest, something warm and pure and precious. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do know it. We’ve both been hurt before– but we don’t need to hurt each other. And, I get it– you were trying to protect yourself when you walked out on me that night.”

Tommy moves to turn away, ends up just shuffling in place. He still wants to be close to Buck. 

“Why can’t we just try? ‘Cause if you think you’re the only one who’d be heartbroken if this doesn’t work out, you’re wrong.” He’s realized some things this past week: he doesn’t adhere to whatever bullshit stereotype there is about men who are bi or people who come to terms with their queerness later in life – he doesn’t need to play the field or experiment or whatever crap Tommy tried to pass off as reason enough to justify his fears. He also realized that he loves Tommy – more than he’s ever loved anyone, more than he thought was possible to love someone but maybe always secretly hoped was in his future, even when that dark voice in his head tried to convince him no one would ever love him as much. 

But Tommy does. Tommy loves him so much the thought of Buck breaking up with him scared him into ending things before he could get his own heart broken. But what he feels for Tommy isn’t some kind of puppy love or something he’ll grow out of or get bored of; it’s real, and Tommy thinking he’s not enough, that he’s not forever-kind-of-love material doesn’t dissuade Buck any; he’s intimately familiar with issues of self worth.

Whatever insecurities Tommy has about being someone’s last love doesn’t apply to Buck. “You’re enough, for me. You’re everything, actually. Everything I ever wanted and more I didn’t know I could want.” 

A heavy moment passes between them where Buck sees his words sink in. They seem to weigh Tommy down, even more. 

He wants so badly to reach out, to speak the words into his mouth, press them into his skin until Tommy can’t deny how real they are because he’ll feel them with every breath, every movement.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Tommy admits, voice soft and more vulnerable than Buck’s ever heard it. “I can’t lose you, Evan. If you ask me to try, and then–” he cuts himself off, shakes the thought away, tries to barricade himself back behind his armor. 

Maybe Buck can’t fully understand Tommy’s fear because he hasn’t experienced what he has, but he knows what it’s like to try and fail, to love and be left. But the two of them are on the same page this time – for everything that matters – not reading from separate books like Buck and all of his exes. “Did I ever tell you about Thomas and Mitchell?” 

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Friends of yours?” Buck can see Tommy’s still raw, still hiding, but he goes along with it, gives him the opening, like he’s always done.

“No, they uh.” Buck swallows, the memory still affects him even all these years later. “They were an elderly gay couple I met on a call a few years back. Well, I met Thomas. Sat with him after he watched his husband die.” 

Tommy tries to look unimpressed with having to listen to a sad story – he’s more of a romcom guy; lighthearted storylines and happy endings, Buck knows – but his face crumples a bit in sympathy. 

“He said, Mitchell was his heart, and that they wanted to go together. I could see how heartbroken he was, and the thought of loving someone like that and then losing them? I couldn’t imagine what that must be like.” 

Tommy doesn’t say it but Buck can almost hear his gently snarky tone: we’re not dead, Evan. He can see the words held back behind the purse of Tommy’s lips. 

“I told him I hoped to find a love like that some day. And he told me something I’ve carried with me ever since.” Tommy searches his face, and Buck feels the truth of Old Thomas’ words in this moment. “He said: you don’t find it, you make it.” 

Tommy blinks. “Are you saying you want to grow old with me?”

Buck can’t help his smile; it’s the first real one he’s had because of Tommy all week– one not tinged in pain and regret. There’s the Tommy he knows and loves. “I’m saying, I want to make it with you. Because these past six months have been the best of my life, Tommy. And I realized it’s because I found you– my person– and I want to make a future with you.” 

And there’s that tentative smile – the same one Tommy wore on their makeup coffee date all those months ago when he gave Buck a second chance. 

They deserve a second chance, now. They deserve to try. 

“I can’t move in with you,” Tommy settles on, and it sounds like a but, like: I can’t move in with you, but I want to be with you. 

Buck shakes his head before Tommy even finishes. “That’s okay, we don’t have to live together.” He knows the unspoken yet doesn’t go unnoticed for the way Tommy’s narrowed eyes assess him. There’s no use hiding it. “I do want to live with you, some day. I want to build a life with you. But, we can take it slow.”

“I don’t think ‘slow’ is in your repertoire.” It’s a joke. Tommy’s smile is less fragile, his armor lowered. 

Buck smiles again, hopeful; Tommy’s coming out of hiding. 

He reaches out, fingertips grazing Tommy’s, his movements unhurried. Tommy lets him tangle their fingers together. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “Okay.” 

Buck’s falling, diving, soaring. And he’s not alone. “Would a kiss be out of the question right now?” 

That crinkly smile that Buck loves so much finally makes its return, creasing around Tommy’s eyes like rays of sunshine. He didn’t realize just how much he missed the sight of Tommy’s joy until he’s faced with it head on, bright and gorgeous. He feels nourished in its presence, especially knowing he’s the cause of it. He thinks it’s okay to be a little proud of that. 

Tommy kisses him. Oh– this.. he’s missed this: the press of Tommy’s lips on his, his stubble scraping against Buck’s skin– catching on Buck’s own scruff. He slides a hand up Tommy’s chest, feeling the warm, toned bulk of him. Hooks his fingers around Tommy’s neck to pull him in more, bring their bodies flush, slip his tongue into Tommy’s mouth and get a proper taste of him.

One of Tommy’s large hands fits tentatively to Buck’s hip, one last show of hesitance. Buck disentangles their fingers and covers both of Tommy’s hands, moving them to rest heavier, grip him firmly, with no room for uncertainty.

“No more running away,” Buck murmurs, nose brushing alongside Tommy’s. He feels more than sees Tommy shake his head.

“No more running,” he agrees, following with another lingering kiss that’s begging to be deepened.

Buck breaks it to add: “We’re in this together.” 

Tommy nods. “I’m with you.”

It’s not how he thought their first love confessions would go, but they’ll be stronger for it, he knows that much. And he knows Tommy loves him. And Tommy knows Buck loves him in return. And that’s a pretty good starting place for a second chance. 

[verycoolusername1]

It's you that I'll be kissin'

Summary: In which Nico may not be the dream guy, but he makes up for it in his own special way.

Warning! Nothing just pure fluff

A/N: I'm so bored I decided to write to keep my mind off the state of my country(writing this after the election so-)

I was meant to publish this later(on Sunday) but I clicked the wrong button so now it's here

You watched Nico as he slept, his brown hair falling across his face. Your hand ghosts over his cheek before raising it down.

"I can feel you staring at me." Nico mumbles.

"Sorry," you apologize. "You just look so pretty when you're sleeping."

Nico huffed a laugh as he rubbed his eyes. "I would say thank you but that sounds creepy."

You slowly got up and opened the curtains, temporarily blinding you.

"Given this scenario, it's not creepy at all." You argued. "I'm gonna get in the shower, you wanna join me?"

"It is cheaper," He hums in agreement.

You took out your hand for him to take which he did, and the two of you went to take a shower and got dressed.

You were currently drying your hair before picking one of Nico's sweaters and went down to the kitchen to find him cooking breakfast.

You sniffed the air. "Smells amazing baby."

"Well I'm not trying to end up like last time." Nico says softly.

Your face grimaced at the memory. "Those cooking lessons I've been giving Jack been passed down to you it seems."

"He always brags of how good of a teacher you are, you not ever considering being one is still a shock." Nico flips a pancake.

You looked at him in shock. "Being around little kids is something I can't handle."

"Are you gonna be able to handle our kids one day?" Nico asked.

You nodded. "Well I already do, Tracker is always a good boy."

You both knew what Nico meant but he brushed it off seemly taking that as an answer

Your dog Tracker loves the both of you and never caused all that trouble. He was visiting his uncle Jack for the week.

Nico turns around and places two plates down for the both of you, he sits beside you.

"I have the morning off, afternoon skate today. I'm all yours." Nico eats a piece of bacon.

Your eyes gleamed with joy. "Really?" Nico nods.

"Hm ooh can we go to the bookstore down the street? I've been meaning to get this book, it was romance and get this the love interest was a hockey player." You chuckles.

"That sounds familiar." Nico jokes.

"Well I didn't need it when I had the real thing." You poked his side. "I just wanna see what all the hype is about."

Nico nods as he looks at you. "Anything else you want to do today?"

"We can cuddle, I definitely missed those." You took a bite of your pancake.

"But babe we cuddle all the-" You cut Nico off before continuing. "And do a movie marathon of high school musical."

"We don't have enough time for that." Nico told you.

"Oh I know, that's for when you get back from afternoon skate." You explained.

Nico realized your intentions and his face grew in horror. "Oh no."

You began to smile wickly. "We will watch it so many times you'll know all the words to 'I can't dance' it'll be so much fun!"

"You wouldn't." Nico said.

"I'll blast the soundtrack in the car." You teased.

You then ran off to put your shoes while Nico started doing the dishes.

"Hey Nico?" You called out.

"Yes?" He washed the plate with the sponge.

"You know I love you right? I don't wanna make you watch it if you don't want to, you're the best boyfriend I ever had and I really don't want to lose you and I'm talking too much, I'm going to shut up now." You rambled.

You finished with your shoes and let out a yelp as you got up, Nico stood there staring at you.

"Baby what's wrong-" Nico cut you off this time by kissing you softly.

"Do you really mean that?" Nico asked softly.

"Of course I do, how could I not? You're just you and that's all I could ever need." You answer without hesitation.

"I love you." Nico caressed your face.

"I love you too." You smiled softly. "Now hurry up we have no time to waste!"

[hyunebunx]

maybe it's not our fault - chapter 01

── synopsis: after a nasty breakup that’s left you completely shattered, you’re set on giving up on love forever. That is until, in a surprising turn of events, your respective best friends start dating and one of their main goals is to restore the peace in your broken relationship. Will their plan succeed? Will they manage to play cupid and get you and your high school sweetheart back together, or will it all backfire and result in the end of their own love story?

There is only one way to find out. If only your beloved’s heart wasn’t already broken beyond repair…

╰─▸ ❝ pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

╰─▸ ❝ content: exes to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, suggestive themes, drama and heartbreak, jock!hyunjin who is captain of the uni's football team + dance major!hyunjin, college au, lack of communication.

╰─▸ ❝ word count: 10k

a/n: it's here!! special thank you to my croissant baby laure @byunfirstlady (this wouldn't be a me story if i didn't mention her somehow fgfdgh) for reading this for me before posting!! since this is the first chapter, things might feel a little slow, but dw, it will all pick up soon! enjoy <33 and do let me know your thoughts after reading <3

“That is not going to fit!”

He scoffs, already annoyed. “Yes, it is! Just move over a little.”

“A little? I’m already stretched the fuck out! What more do you want from me?”

“Seohyun, I swear to fucking God – “

She yelps, most likely cramping. “Just pull it out, you dumbass – “

“What the hell is going on in here?”

You and Chan stop dead in your tracks, confused at the scene currently playing out in front of your very eyes. You were gone downstairs for less than ten minutes to get the rest of your stuff, with you and Chan carrying a box each that held the essentials to ensure this move went smoothly. And in that time frame, your two other best friends have already managed to be at each other’s throats.

The front door of your apartment was wide open, with dumb and dumber currently looking like two deers caught in headlights on opposite sides, separated by an old armchair whose springs had become a death trap over the years. Last year, when you held parties here, someone was always left standing — it was either the cursed chair or the floor, with most guests picking the latter once they were drunk enough.

“Uh, hi?” Jisung greets, forcing a smile onto boyish features that haven’t changed much since you met almost seven years ago, in high school.

Bewiled, you set the box down by Chan’s feet and approach. “Are you guys, okay? What happened?”

Whistling, Jisung tries to pretend he has everything under control. He doesn’t, he never does, that’s just the type of guy he was. “Duh, we’re fantastic! Everything is under control, don’t even – “

Called it.

“For the love of god, just shut up and let them help us already!” Seohyun barks from the other side, prompting you to peek in to see her straighten her posture, rubbing her wrists in obvious discomfort. With a sigh and a glare from Jisung who steps back to allow Chan to take his place, she explains. “We were trying to get this chair out to make room for the new one.”

Chuckling, Chan inspects the door frame while you pass Seohyun one of the boxes right over the ugly, red chair that’s seen better days. “And it got stuck?”

“Yes, because Jisung didn’t want to listen – “

“Or maybe because you started pushing when I wasn’t ready, like an idiot.” He counters instantly, never one to back out from a fight instigated by Seohyun. Not to be fooled, these two were as close as can be, the bickering reflective of their special bond.

You and Chan share a look as they start again, amusement clear in gentle, doe eyes that have comforted you numerous times over the years. Meeting back in the summer before high school, you and Chan have been attached at the hip ever since, clicking as pre-teens and growing up together, maturing down the same path that’s led you to the same university, and even the same major you also shared with Jisung. Music production has always been a passion of yours, so getting to fulfil that dream with your absolute best friend by your side was a blessing you couldn’t be more thankful for.

“Alright.” Chan stops their bickering, one hand landing on Jisung’s shoulder to get his attention. “Stand on it.”

“Pardon?” Jisung blinks at him, as confused as you and Seohyun were, not sure he heard Chan right.

Smiling, Chan squeezes his shoulder. “So, you can step on the backrest and make it fall over. It will be easier to move afterwards.”

“You think so?” He asks, biting down on his bottom lip, not confident in the slightest.

Your best friend nods, giving his bottom an encouraging pat. “Positively. Now go on, I don’t want to spend my whole day in this hallway.”

Seohyun scrambles back, unwilling to get caught in between Jisung and the chair, giving him enough room to do what he must to free her exit.

Watching the whole scene unfold has you smiling from ear to ear, struggling to keep your laughter at bay once Jisung realizes the task isn’t as dangerous as he expected. It’s anticlimactic, more than anything, as he gets on top of the chair to step on the backrest, going down slowly without even losing his balance.

He blinks, barely realizing it’s over before making eye contact with Seohyun who bursts out laughing like she’s been holding it in since the beginning. The three of you join in quickly after, your delight bouncing off the hallway walls and lifting the spirits tremendously.

After all, nobody in existence was ever excited for summer to end and classes to start again, with a new, even more demanding schedule than last year. You were in your third year now and things were bound to get difficult the closer you got to graduating.

This silly moment was exactly what you needed to start the new year right, sure it would become a core memory later down the line when you’d all be working adults, with even more responsibilities and nonexistent free time. The sight of Chan dragging the armchair out, without any difficulty whatsoever as Jisung and Seohyun’s jaws hit the floor, incredulous he didn’t struggle like they did, was sure to bring a smile to your face for years to come.

When your only access to the apartment was finally free, the four of you gathered inside with the remaining boxes.

“You weren’t kidding, you do have all of your stuff here.” Seohyun hums, scanning her surroundings, and her new home. The apartment was yours. You moved in just last year and you’ve lived by yourself until now, when you welcomed her with open arms and a little too much excitement.

“Yeah.” You nod, already moving around to put the scattered things back in their rightful places. “Sorry about the mess. I didn’t bother cleaning up before leaving.”

The living room was fine – your bedroom was the one that suffered the most, already dreading the thought of having to dig through all the mess to find most of your things.

The apartment was a gift from your parents, after successfully finishing your first year of university living in a dorm. Sure, having your own space was great, but you’d never trade that first year for anything in the world. That’s where you meet Seohyun after all, growing closer and closer with every sleepless night you spent together giggling and talking about everything under the sun, not feeling the hours tick by until one of your alarms would ring, signalling the start of a new day.

It was big, too spacious for only one person to live in, with two bedrooms and a bathroom straight out of an interior design magazine. Even though Seohyun didn’t move in until now, you were never truly alone with Jisung and Chris living right next door. Someone was always keeping you company, which you were thankful for, in more ways than one.

Already moving about like they owned the place, Chris and Jisung were helping you tidy up, with the latter moving to check for anything rotten in the kitchen. With four pairs of hands on deck, it didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for everything to be back to normal, leaving you to take care of the dusting.

“Alright.” Chan stands, carrying two trash bags. “Ji, let’s go get the armchair.”

Jisung follows before Seohyun calls after them. “Right, is it in your car?”

“I thought it was in yours?” He turns around, stopping in the doorway while Chan is already busy calling the elevator, further away.

You see her brows furrow, setting the duster down before grabbing her car keys. “Nope.”

The ding of the elevator gets your attention, and they share a look before hurrying after Chan, in search of said armchair, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud. You lived high up, on the 10th floor – nobody was ever willing to take the stairs and waste that much time.

And so, in the blink of an eye, you are left alone in the apartment that held so many of your memories, beautiful moments you wouldn’t trade even in exchange for forgetting the sad ones.

You feel a little lost, staring around like you couldn’t recognize your own home, shoulders slumping with a deep sigh. Your gaze moves towards your closed bedroom door, feet following before your hand twists the doorknob and you’re engulfed in sunlight, blinking rapidly to adjust to the change in lighting.

Inside, the sight that greets you seems frozen in time, transporting you back in June to the last moments spent in this room, where you were running around to pack in a hurry. You don’t dare move, just taking it all in as memories flood your mind and make your heart ache in your chest, what still remains of it, anyway.

All of your stuff thrown around haphazardly painted a picture you didn’t enjoy, yet couldn’t look away from either. Your bed remained unmade, with piles of clothing, bags and random objects occupying all the space. Framed photographs were thrown everywhere around the room, just so they would stop glaring at you from their place on your nightstand, face down and most likely damaged by the broken glass. The vase on your dresser, which used to stand tall with beautiful, healthy flowers seemed to have lost its color, struggling to fulfil its purpose because of the dried, mouldy peonies you didn’t bother throwing out before leaving.

But what’s even worse than the mess is what tipped you over the edge back then, falling to your knees on the fluffy, white carpet as you sobbed uncontrollably – the things he left behind were still here, in the exact same spots, in pristine condition. Your room looked like it barely survived the hurricane that shared your name, yet his red cap was still resting quietly next to the flowers he got you. One of his sketchbooks, still opened on that drawing he never got to finish as he got too busy with school, was on the other nightstand, on his side of the bed. A pair of his dancing shoes were by the door, right next to your comfy slippers. They have been there for so long, that you couldn’t enter your room without tripping over them and be reminded of his presence every single time. Hell, you bet if you checked right now, his toothbrush will still be next to yours in the cute holder you bought together, his razor not far away.

There were traces of him everywhere you looked in this apartment, clothes and necessities he left behind on his many visits. Like his football jersey, lucky number 20, you’ve worn more times than him, hung in your open closet among empty hangers that barely held on.

It wasn’t fair, how you seemed to crumble along with everything around you while he, and his stupid things, remained intact. The world shattered beneath your feet, freefalling to your doom of self-doubts and regrets while he continued with his life like nothing even happened. Like you never happened; like you weren’t such a fundamental part in his life in the exact same way he was in yours.

Your ex boyfriend moved on in the blink of an eye, while you were still here, crying at the sight of a stupid toothbrush.

This will never be fair. Why did you always seem to draw the short end of the stick?

New beginnings were usually your favorite. Starting another book, turning a new leaf and switching up your wardrobe for a change, getting the inspiration for another song – these were all activities that brought you joy. Now, returning to campus at the end of summer vacation to begin another school year? For the first time since starting university two years ago, felt like an impossible task, one you weren’t ready for in the slightest. Because how could you ever be ready to start your junior year without him?

How could you possibly embark on a new journey without him holding your hand and guiding you through it all, navigating around every hardship with ease like he was the most experienced sailor in existence?

You had no answers, only questions. Too many that were also too loud, bouncing off of the sturdy walls of your mind that were threatening to crumble with every thud, remaining standing only thanks to the unbearable headaches that reminded you to take a break from all the overthinking.

Your mind went quiet as another voice made its presence known, bringing you back to the world outside your bedroom while shooing the dark cloud above your head out the window with ease.

“Oh my god, we lost the goddamn chair!”

A wet laugh escaped your lips, more tears rolling down your cheeks as you desperately tried to wipe them all before joining your friends in the living room. You weren’t stupid – they were worried. That’s why Seohyun was moving in, in the first place. To keep an eye on you at all times, when the other two couldn’t be there and provide the much needed support you craved so badly.

Not like they knew you were aware of their little plan, having them figured out from the moment they showed up at Chan’s doorstep in Australia, last month. They’ve been tiptoeing around you since then, not knowing what emotional state you were in or what’s changed or hasn’t in the two months you spent apart. Sure, Chris might have filled them in, but they were still afraid. Afraid they were going to mess up somehow and have you slipping through their fingers and shatter at any moment, like you were nothing more than a fragile package, all progress lost the second something that reminded you of him jumped into your path.

And, you hate to admit but they were right.

They failed to take into consideration that even though your ex never actually moved in, the apartment was his as much as it was yours, quickly becoming your shared home as you fell into a routine that involved the other at every step.

Your three close friends were the only people present, but all you could see was him, a ghost roaming around and haunting every corner of the house you now despised, his giggles caressing your ears gently every time you moved from one room to the other.

Just being here felt like torture. How were you supposed to spend another two years sleeping in the same bed you shared with the person you thought was going to be your forever?

“Sweetheart.” Chan’s gentle voice coaxes you out of the room as you manage to pull yourself together, no sign of crying or distress still present on your features. If anything, they looked worse than you, crestfallen and a little embarrassed.

“We have something to tell you.” Seohyun steps closer, gently taking your hands into hers and intertwining your fingers loosely.

Jisung nods and is by your side in a second, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he lowers his mouth to your ear. “Chris lost your new armchair.”

“What the fuck?!”

Your laughter joins theirs, a beat later, as Chris remains the only one standing there, arms crossed over his chest with his words falingl on deaf ears, nobody paying attention as he begins defending himself.

When you’re pulled into a warm embrace, with Jisung’s cologne enveloping all your senses, you can’t help but start wondering. Is this a good time to finally reveal you never actually ordered a new chair or…?

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Saturday slipped away into a moment in time, and before you knew it, Sunday was upon you. Your last chance at relaxing before the craziness began, and you’d be thrust into a series of new projects, classes and assignments that were already giving you a headache.

Despite spending the previous night celebrating a new beginning with your best friends, having an intimate pizza party with karaoke and a little too much alcohol, you wake up bright and early to get to a previously made appointment. Usually, you wouldn’t go anywhere for the summer, for the first two months anyway. But since you flew out of the country as soon as your exams were over, you didn’t get to help the animal shelter you have been volunteering at since your first year. It left a hole in your heart, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel guilty for disappearing into thin air, with nothing more than a text sent to the owner to let her know you’ll be going away for a while.

Hopefully, they’re willing to forgive and forget and let you make up for it by spending the next two months as involved as possible.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Comes Chan’s groggy voice, still husky from all the singing he did last night, stumbling out of your spare bedroom with barely open eyes.

You startle, losing your balance while putting on your other shoe and crashing into the wall by the front door. You were hoping to make a swift escape and return before any of them rose since nobody in their right mind would willingly wake up this early.

He appears from around the corner, tank top slightly raised as he’s trying to scratch at his back. “You good?”

“Yep, everything’s just peachy.” Regaining your footing, you manage to put your shoe on and turn your back to him to get a jacket, feeling too awkward to make eye contact right now, which Chan would have laughed about if he wasn’t so sleepy.

“Where are you going?” He yawns, turning to squint at the clock on the far wall, above the couch. “It’s literally 7 am, too early to even be alive right now.”

For some reason, you hesitate to tell him, too out of it for your, and most definitely his liking. Being here was certainly not doing you any good, the walls closing in every time you tried to breathe and lift all the broken pieces of your stupid heart off of your lungs. It felt suffocating, especially when you were left alone with your thoughts as you zoned out one too many times.

Still, you mumble under your breath, reaching for your keys as silently as possible.

“Huh?”

With a sigh, you finally face him, eyes downcast. “Furry Friends Rescue.”

The smile that stretches across his features as he processes your words is so wide and contagious, it brightens up the whole room like he was somehow related to the sun itself, light radiating off of him in waves. It wakes him up instantly, and before you know it, he slips into a pair of slides left by the door and flies to his apartment.

You look after him, confused, and step into the hallway at the same time he does.

“Alright, let’s go!” He beams, locking his door before reaching for your arm softly. “I’ll drive you!”

“Wait, are you sure? I can – “

“Yes, I’m sure!” He frowns, shaking his head and pulling you after him with his newfound energy. “You love it there, and I know you already miss Berry. The least I can do is offer you a ride, are you kidding?”

You can’t help but smile at the mention of his puppy, spirits lifted in an instant. She was such a special little lady and you really bonded in these three months you’ve spent at his parents’ house.

Your parents never allowed you to have a pet, with your mom being allergic, so you did what you could to fill the space that remained constantly empty in your heart.

The drive there is full of laughter and even more singing, with Chris bringing back one of the activities you loved doing since he first got his license back in high school. Carpool karaoke has always been a must in his car, and that’s why you rode with Seohyun on your way back from the airport yesterday. You were a fool because nothing was quite as therapeutic as being silly and singing Disney songs at the top of your lungs with the only person who’s watched you grow into the adult you are today.

The drive to your destination isn’t long, but you still manage to squeeze in five songs before you get off and Chris speeds off. Only after wishing you a good day and making you promise you’ll call once you’re done so he can come pick you up, too. He was too kind, willing to do too much for you sometimes, but you were just the same. You’re afraid you might try moving the moon if he asked, one day.

Your annoying, overprotective brother who wasn’t really your brother, who’d push you into the pool before jumping in to save you in the same breath. He was such a guy.

Approaching with a prep to your step, the shelter’s surroundings have changed drastically since your last visit. The trees in the back have dyed their leaves in warm shades of orange and yellow, scattering some on the ground in hopes of attracting more pet lovers. A beautiful background always pulled people in, just like all pretty things did, and this autumn is particularly beautiful, with sights straight out of famous paintings. Seoul was truly a special city, one that’s nurtured and taught you the meaning of the word love that’s being thrown around too casually for your taste, these days. The city you grew up in, where you found your love for writing and composing, and where you met the most amazing people on this planet.

No other city could compare to your birthplace, no matter how pretty or modern it was.

Just as you make to try the door, with your apology speech all ready to go, it suddenly opens and forces you to take a few steps back in surprise.

“I’m sorry, we aren’t open yet.” The apology comes from a tall man, whose delicate features would have fooled you into believing he wasn’t older than a high schooler. Yet his physique begs to differ, you could tell even from beneath all the layers. He’s wearing the shelter’s apron with the logo you’ve had Jisung design a few years back. A new employee, perhaps? You don’t recognize him, so that’s most likely the case.

Your gaze travels upwards until it meets his brown eyes that fidget at the sudden contact. “Sorry, I’m here to see Mrs. Jeon?”

The stranger shakes his head, bleached blond hair hiding an undercut following his every move. “Mrs. Jeon is out of the country.”

You wait for him to continue, provide more details but when he doesn’t and only raises a brow that almost asks ‘what are you still doing here?’ you sigh and turn to leave. “Right. Will you please tell her Y/n has stopped by?”

“Wait, Y/n L/n?”

You turn right on your heel, both of your eyebrows raised as if to challenge his. “Do I know you?”

He brings his hands up, showing he means no harm as a smile finds his rosy lips, one you don’t truly grasp the meaning of. “No! But I know you.”

Alright, now you’re properly creeped out. Noticing the look on your face, the man quickly corrects himself, letting out an awkward laugh as he rubs the back of his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not good with strangers. Mrs. Jeon does! I was recruited in your place when you didn’t come back in June.”

Oh, so he was your replacement. Great. You had no idea you’d entered a race to see how fast people and places you frequented could replace you during the summer. Very motivating and uplifting. You should have stayed home.

“Oh.” Despite all the thoughts overlapping each other in your head, you only manage to sigh, properly exhausted.

His eyes widen slightly, and without thinking, he grasps your elbow when you turn around to leave for good. “Please do come in! Mrs. Jeon has been waiting to hear from you. She left a note.”

“A note?” When he nods, you shake off his hand and accept the invitation, stepping inside filled with curiosity.

All of the furry friends were in the back, in a separate space away from the reception. The place was modern, decorated in warm, pastel colors that seemed to welcome you with a fuzzy hug, the surroundings pristine. Furry Friends Rescue was built from the ground up by Mrs Jeon’s late husband, who passed away a few years back, right after you started volunteering here. To honor his life, she kept this place running, making it her mission to find loving homes for all the animals that were brought in, investing most of her resources into modernizing the place and treating the animals like they deserved to be treated.

The shelter housed a veterinary office and a pet salon, run by other volunteers who were experts in their fields, students alike and even working people who would come by to offer a helping hand whenever they could. Mr Jeon was a vet – he used to treat all of the animals before he fell sick and became unable to work.

Making his way around the reception desk, which truly resembled the entrance of a corporation, even with all the pet pictures plastered on all the walls, and the dog pattern on the couch, the man picks up a note that was next to the bone-shaped phone.

“Here.”

Your fingers brush his as you take the small paper from him, but you don’t pay any attention to the slight color that appears on his cheeks.

Dear Y/n,

I hope your precious heart managed to heal during your trip

What fitting words for someone who had no idea why you left in the first place. Guess Mrs. Jeon knew you better than you thought, after all.

If you’re reading this, it means I have not yet returned from visiting my grandbabies. It also means Jaemin is the one looking after the place

Please work together until I’m back. He’s a nice kid and I believe you’ll get along well

That is if you’re still willing to return. Always put yourself first. If quitting is what you think is best, just know I’ll never hold it against you

With love, grandma J

P.S. there’s a surprise on the other side 😊

Curious, you flip over the page, eyes scanning the familiar handwriting to decipher what has she left you. A giggle escapes you soon after, shaking your head with fondness spilling from your eyes at her antics. You’re glad that after everything she’s been through, Mrs. Jeon has never changed.

“Is something funny?” The guy you’ve come to learn is named Jaemin asks from the other side of the desk, head tilted slightly in wonder making him resemble an actual puppy.

You dismiss him with a wave of your wrist, pocketing the note. Mrs. J’s brownie recipe you could never get enough of wouldn’t interest him anyway.

“So, you’re Jaemin?” You finally ask, giving him a once-over. He was tall, wearing a denim-on-denim outfit and smiled a little too brightly for your liking. Still, he did look like a nice guy, so you might as well give him a chance, even if meeting someone knew was the last thing you wanted to do.

As expected, he beams, thrusting a hand forward over the desk. “That’s me! Nice to meet you, Y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You give him a small but genuine smile and shake his hand. “I’m a third year at SNU so I usually volunteer here during summer vacation. I hope we get along.”

He nods, listening to your every word. “Yeah, Mrs. Jeon mentioned we go to the same university. I’m a second year majoring in dance! I’m also a part of the football team so I apologize in advance if I ever end up leaving you here all alone when the season starts.”

Oh, what were the odds?

Your smile drops despite your effort in not reacting, retracting your hand a little too quickly while nodding and trying to act as normal as possible. “Cool.”

Turning around, you begin walking in the opposite direction to escape from this awkward situation Mrs. J has unknowingly put you in.

“Shall we go see the animals?”

He’s on your tail soon after, grabbing another apron on the way for you with that ever present sunny smile of his. Jaemin reminded you of a hyperactive puppy, a golden retriever who would do anything to make you happy, pulling silly stunts and stumbling over his own feet.

Turns out, his bright personality isn’t the only reason Mrs. J has hired Jaemin. You spend the next four hours together, taking care of the animals and talking, to your surprise. They all seemed to love him already, causing a ruckus at the mere sight of him, excited to be let out and greet you both properly.  The puppies especially as they’d run back and forth from you to him without stopping for a while, barely managing to bottle feed them in their excitement. Jaemin was nice, and easy to talk to, happy to get to know you but also talk your ear off when sensing you might need a laugh, managing to make everything funny. A great pick me up, you ended up agreeing with Mrs J’s statement – he was a good guy, the best that could have replaced you and helped her and all the staff in your absence.

For some reason, he felt comfortable opening up to you, and in turn, you told him some things about yourself too.

“What made you want to volunteer here?” He suddenly asks while cradling a noisy kitten, the sight comical.

You barely think before answering, gaze still trained on the bichon that has fallen asleep in your lap while you were brushing her. “I wasn’t allowed to have pets growing up, and I’ve always loved them. I was lucky my best friend had the most adorable puppy in the world right next door, but it wasn’t the same as owning one, you know?”

Jaemin nods, finally calming the kitten, eyes on you. “Oh, that sucks. I couldn’t imagine life without my two babies at home.”

You look up, curious. “You have dogs?”

“Two cats.” He throws a peace sign, chuckling when you smile. “I’m from Busan, so I only get to see them on holidays. I thought coming here and helping out four days a week might help me miss them less.”

“And? Does it help?” You point to the kitten that has fallen asleep in his arms, head crocked to the side weirdly. Looking down, he laughs and sets her in his lap, using his knuckles to gently pet between her ears, one of his hands as big as her whole body.

“It does, actually.” He smiles absentmindedly, most likely reminiscing about his fur babies. “But only momentarily. When I’m back in my dorm room, I still feel their absence.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all you say, a deep pang of sadness hitting you out of nowhere. You guess this is how Chris and Jisung feel as well, both away from their respective dogs they’ve more or less grown up with.

Jaemin shakes his head, still smiling and not as sad as you’d thought he’d be. “None of that. I facetime my mom every night just to see them.”

“That’s cute.” A smile finds its way on your face as you imagine him using the same baby voice he uses with the animals here on the phone with his mom, cooing at his cats.

“You’re cute.”

An uncharacteristic silence falls upon you as Jaemin searches for your gaze, dying to understand your reaction. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just weird, making you feel like you were doing something wrong. Which made no sense. Jisung and Chan called you cute all the time; not out of nowhere, but when the moment was right. Heck, Seohyun would write entire pages praising your beauty whenever you posted on Instagram – you knew you were cute. But this was different, this was someone that meant it romantically, you could tell. He was flirting with you, shooting his shot and seeing where it landed.

That wasn’t something you could reciprocate, especially not now.

When he notices the look in your eyes, the storm brewing behind them, he adds. “I was talking about Belle over there.”

You look down at Belle, the fluffy bichon in your lap, who is currently sleeping soundly on her back, tummy up and randomly kicking her feet once in a while, dreamland surely rowdy.

“Shut up.” You laugh a moment later, appreciating how fast he took the hint and backed off, leaning over to softly push him on the doggy mats, to which he pretends to fall just for your amusement.

With that out of the way, things return to normal quickly and before you know it, the other volunteers arrive and you’re biding Jaemin goodbye and going on your merry way, back to your apartment.

It’s afternoon now, hopefully your friends are awake by now.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

They were in fact, not awake. Jisung just moved himself from the spare bedroom he shared with Chris for the night to the living room couch to sleep some more, without having to deal with the other’s snoring. Seohyun was buried in your blanket, hiding from the world, in the same position she was in when you left that morning.

Like it or not, it seems their bodies were incapable of pulling all-nighters after doing it for so many years without suffering the day after. Hopefully, you all manage to fix your sleep schedules before your classes start properly, not wanting to miss too many and be left behind, confused out of your minds and barely figuring it out by the time exam season rolls around.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“I’m sleepy.” Seohyun complains, reaching up to rub her eyes before remembering the pretty eyeliner currently gracing her eyelids and stopping at the last second, groaning.

You giggle, full of energy from the coffee Chris made sure got into your system before your first class, swirling the ice in your cup absentmindedly, mind somewhere else.

Busy on his phone, he doesn’t even look up as he responds. “You barely made it to class this morning and you’re still complaining?”

Monday, 10:15 am. Your first class of the day officially ended fifteen minutes ago and as you’ve been doing for two years now, your friend group meet up at your favorite location, the diner closest to campus that has become some sort of sanctuary by now.

Seohyun was majoring in communication so she did not share your classes yet somehow, the four of you have started the new school year in the same way – with a boring, way too long 8 am lecture that almost erased your will to live.

She shoots him a dirty look he doesn’t notice, but otherwise doesn’t respond, too tired to bother with Chris and his top student agenda. Because being popular, good at sports and everyone’s friend wasn’t enough for him; your best friend was the academic weapon every freshman aspired to be, without trying too hard either. Hands down the most gifted and smartest person you know.

“You did go to bed super late last night.” You reach for her hand across the table, gently massaging her palm in hopes she’ll feel a bit better.

Just then, Jisung returns with your drinks, handing them out one by one like he was a barista himself. When he’s done and you all thank him, he takes his seat across from you and Chris, next to Seohyun. “What did I miss?”

“Seohyun was complaining.” Chris responds instantly, fingers typing away. What could be more interesting than spending time with your closest friends?

“Oh, so nothing new.”

At the same time, you softly smack the back of Chris’ head while she smacks Jisung, with a little more force, only the latter reacting loudly.

“Stop being mean.” You reprimand, and Chris puts his phone down with a sigh, leaning back in his chair to stretch his arms above his head.

“For your information, being late was not my fault.” Seohyun chimes in, finally in the mood to explain herself after taking several sips of her coffee. “This random guy ran straight into me, I was tackled to the ground!”

Concern flashes over your features. “Are you okay?”

She nods. “Yeah, don’t worry. He helped me up and gathered all of my books while apologizing. Then I met up with Ji and he carried my bag to class.”

Both you and Chris shoot Jisung a curious look, not convinced he went through all of that trouble out of the kindness of his own heart.

“In my defense,” Jisung shrugs, his arm thrown over the booth behind Seohyun’s head, “I really did not want to come to class.”

Chris chuckles and sips from his strawberry milkshake while you shake your head, smiling and pinching the back of Jisung’s hand that was resting on the table, to which he retaliates by throwing the straw paper in your face.

“To be honest, I wasn’t paying attention either so he’s not entirely to blame here.” She continues like neither of you has said anything, resting her head in her palm with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Besides, he was fucking gorgeous. I swear I’ve never seen such a beautiful man before. And his freckles? Literal constellations right on his cheeks, oh my god.”

“Okay, Juliet, pipe down.” Jisung flicks her forehead and she swats his hand away, glaring.

Amused, you lean closer with interest. “Did you get his name?”

She shakes her head. “No” Then, her gaze moves to Chris. “That’s why, I need you to find him for me.”

Raising a brow, he reaches for your drink to have a taste before responding. “What am I, the local newspaper? You’re the one who bumped into him.”

“Yes, but you literally know everyone on campus.”

He makes a face, deeming your drink too bitter for his taste. “So do you.”

That was true. Seohyun was the definition of a social butterfly, mingling with all cliques and being liked by everyone she came into contact with. However, she was also very perceptive so if someone’s vibe seemed off, she could come across as cold and aloof, not giving them the time of day.

“Please?” She continues, resorting to the infamous puppy eyes. “This guy might be the love of my life, Chris, please help me.”

“What about Mark?” Jisung buts in, giving her a questioning look. Immediately, you and Chris signal for him to cut it out, abort the ship and never utter that name for as long as he draws breath.

Seohyun’s gaze drops to her cup, manicured finger moving back and forth on the edge, pretending she didn’t hear any of the words that have left Jisung’s mouth. To his credit, Jisung looks a little guilty, arm sliding over her shoulder and squeezing briefly in a silent apology, hoping it will be enough to fix things.

The probability of this mystery guy being the love of her life was low, but Chris seemed to feel bad enough to give in, exhaling deeply. Seohyun’s track record wasn’t great – for some reason, she always fell for emotionally unavailable guys, with her latest situationship ending not too long ago once she realized Mark did not want anything serious.

She didn’t deserve all that. Seohyun was the sweetest, kindest person you knew, with a heart of gold. If anyone deserved to find true love and grow old with rosy cheeks, still feeling butterflies at the mention of her beloved’s name no matter how many years passed, it was her. And you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make that happen.

“Let’s find this pretty boy of yours.” You smile as Chris nods, enjoying the way her face gradually lights up.

“Really?”

“I’d feel like I kicked a puppy while it was down if I didn’t, so what the hell. We’ve done crazier things anyways.” Chris adds and she squeals, getting out of the booth to come over and hug him, suddenly excited.

“Oh!” She rushes back to her seat, instantly rummaging through her bag. “This is his. I think it got mixed up with my books when I dropped them. He was in a hurry.”

The three of you huddle together as she places a small notebook on the table, curious about its contents that might reveal the identity of Seohyun’s prospective new…something. Let’s hope boyfriend, and nobody that treats her less than that.

Chris is the one who dares open it, flipping through the pages in wonder.

“These are…recipes?” He blinks, drawing a blank as the measurements for the perfect ‘gooey brownies’ stare him right in the face.

None of you says anything for a moment, the gears in your head turning and working simultaneously before Jisung breaks the silence with an unexpected outburst.

“Oh my god, he’s a fucking loser!”

Safe to say, he got smacked a couple more times before your next class of the day. Lovingly, of course.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

With everyone promising to ask around for Seohyun’s prince charming, you go on with your day until your last class, when you established to meet again for a little get together with all of your other friends.

The sun was starting to set, casting a warm, golden hue that extended throughout the whole campus, creating mesmerizing surroundings you could barely look away from. Thankfully by now, you’re outside, enjoying the warm breeze and nice weather that might not return any time soon as the days will only continue to get shorter and shorter as time passes.

You’re currently near the football field, cutting through near the bleachers to get to the other side where Chris and his swimming team are currently meeting. Seohyun is skipping a few feet in front of you, obviously in good spirits.

“Didn’t know Chris needed a chaperone.” She teases, turning to you with a smile as she starts walking backwards.

You chuckle. “Well, he is our ride.”

“We could have walked.” She stretches her arms as if to prove a point. “It’s such a beautiful day! It’s a shame we have to miss out on the rest of it, too.”

You were on your way to a bar, a new one that opened all the way in Hongdae. The owner has invited 3racha, Chris and Jisung’s music group personally, so it would be rude to not show up, even if you did share her sentiment. If it were up to you, you’d be in bed, snuggling already, but your friends have made it a point to keep you out of the house as much as possible.

“Just say thank you, Seohyun.”

“Thank you, Seohyun, for being the hottest girl around!”

You both laugh, enjoying each other’s company before she turns back around and resumes her skipping, long, bleached hair flowing freely behind her in the prettiest way. As you reach for your phone to record her for memories, a speck of red gets your attention in an instant.

You keep walking but your eyes are glued to the field now, to the eight or so guys dressed in the white and red uniform of your university’s American football team. Your heart rate picks up in an instant, scanning their jersey numbers in a hurry.

Relief floods your system when you don’t find what you’re looking for, slowing down. These guys looked young, most likely freshmen trying out for a spot in the most famous football team your university has had in years. You didn’t know how that worked, your memory failed you as you tried to remember when tryouts took place. It seemed a little too early for all that though, too soon to be looking for new people when the season kicked off somewhere in October, a good month and a half away. You couldn’t help but wonder why the hurry.

“Y/n! Watch out!”

Seohyun’s screaming startles you out of your thoughts, your eyes coming into focus to see a football flying right in your direction, quickly approaching your head. Before you know it, you’re ducking and running, feeling bad for snoozing and interfering with practice. Of course, this had to happen, you were cursed after all. You could never be near a sports field without something hitting you, no matter how small or insignificant the object, it always had to make contact with your face.

However, you don’t make it very far before you come to an abrupt stop as you collide with something or better said, someone, the impact causing you to stumble a few steps back until rough, gloved hands stabilize you by the shoulders.

When you regain your footing and finally look up at your saviour, your heart actually stops.

Because the one looking back, right through you is none other than Hyunjin. Your Hyunjin.

Or actually, he wasn’t yours anymore, now, was he?

Hyunjin who’s written his name across your heart in golden letters, that suddenly lit up at the mere sight of him. Your ex-boyfriend looked almost unrecognizable, his short black hair replaced by long, bleached locks that were pushed back, away from his face in a little ponytail.

You were a fool to think he wouldn’t be here. He was the captain after all and the coach was nowhere in sight.

The air wasn’t entering your lungs anymore, yet somehow you were still breathing, being kept afloat by his familiar hands on your skin, so overly conscious of his touch that you barely registered the shiver running down your spine.

After three months apart with no communication, Hyunjin was finally looking at you, forced to acknowledge your presence. It felt a little surreal, bumping into him so soon. Sure, you were expecting it, but not on your very first day back to campus, not when you still haven’t processed the fact that you weren’t together anymore. Everything in you longed for him and all his endearing quirks, even after all this time; even after he broke your heart.

You don’t dare look away, and neither does he, enthralled by those beautiful eyes of his that used to watch your every move with so much love and care. Now, you don’t see any of these emotions, but there is an intensity to his gaze that you can’t quite put your finger on. Time always seemed to come to a stop when you were with him and right now it was no different. All of your surroundings faded, leaving him the sole object of your attention.

There was a new piercing adorning his face, right under his bleached eyebrow. It looked good, like everything he deemed worthy enough to leave a mark on his body. But that wasn’t what got your heart beating again, pounding against your ribcage at an alarming pace he was sure to hear even from afar.

Without looking away, his hands slide down your arms slowly, and for a brief moment, you think they’re going to find solace in yours, just like they’ve done for all these years. By the surprise flickering in his eyes, you believe he thought of the same thing, catching himself at the last second and taking a step back, arms falling to his side heavily.

“Yo, what the fuck was that?” A new voice has you both snapping out of it, finally allowing you to look away and escape the staring war neither had the resources to win. It’s familiar, and as someone stops right by your side, seemingly out of nowhere, there’s no doubt in your mind about his identity.

“Y/n, are you okay?

You blink, and the magic from before finally dissipates completely, almost like the spell Hyunjin has got you under broke the moment he made himself busy by reaching for his helmet on the ground. When you manage to tear your eyes from him, Yeonjun, one of his friends and teammates, comes into view and places a hand on your shoulder in concern. The ball that almost collided with your head is under his other arm, and you notice that he’s not wearing his gloves as he should be.

Eventually, you nod, looking straight into his eyes while mustering your most convincing smile. “Yeah, don’t worry. Nothing even happened.”

“It almost did.” He states, glaring towards the group of men who seemed glued on the spot. “If it weren’t for Hyunjin, things might have ended badly.”

You look away, not knowing how to act around them anymore. Hyunjin doesn’t respond either, just moves out of the way as Seohyun sprints to your rescue, pulling your body into the tightest hug and putting some distance between you and the two men.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere, right?” She’s instantly checking you all over, dusting invisible dirt off your clothes before patting your head lovingly, just like a mother would do to comfort her sobbing child. Truthfully speaking, you weren’t far from turning into one, but the mortification of bursting into tears in front of all these people kept your emotions in check. You reckon a football to the face would have hurt less than having Hyunjin treat you like a stranger he’s meeting for the first time, barely reacting to your sudden appearance.

In hindsight, him reacting differently was almost impossible. Especially in the way you’d want him to react. Hyunjin had changed right before your very eyes in the last months before your relationship ended, burying his sweet and sensitive nature so deep down that you feared it might have gotten erased permanently.

Grasping her hands, you nod to calm her racing mind. “I’m fine, mom.” Then, you turn to Yeonjun again. “Sorry for interrupting practice like that. I should have been more careful.”

You hear Hyunjin scoff from somewhere behind you, still not brave enough to show his face, while Yeonjun shakes his head vehemently. “Nonsense. You did nothing wrong. Those guys though? They did plenty.”

He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before excusing himself to join said guys, voice loud and annoyed. “Who were you passing that to? Are you fucking blind or just stupid?”

Yeonjun had no authority over them, not like Hyunjin did anyway. But he was still a seasoned player, one that’s been with the team for two years, so his words carried significant weight. He was a year older than all of you yet only decided to give football a chance in his second year, joining the team at the same time as Hyunjin. Their roles on the team were the opposite of each other – while Hyunjin was on the offensive, Yeonjun was a defensive player in charge of keeping the other team as far away as possible. Yet, they clicked and worked so well together that the probability of SNU losing a game with both of them present was close to none.

Bonding outside the field proved just as easy and before you knew it, Yeonjun became one of Hyunjin’s treasured friends, bringing their envied teamwork to more events than necessary.

For these guys to have a chance before the coach, they first needed to impress these two. And one thing about Hyunjin was that he was very hard to impress, especially in the areas he excelled in.

Your eyes naturally gravitate towards him along with your thoughts, his magnetic field still as strong as always. To your utter surprise, he moved to stand a little further away, facing his potential new teammates.

“Who threw that?”

The sound of his voice alone is enough to overwhelm you, suddenly way too emotional to keep still, to manage to keep your cool and act as nonchalant as he was. You haven’t heard that voice in so long, you’re sure you’d have collapsed if he as much as uttered your name.

Your name on his tongue has always been your favorite sound, no other word ever coming close to having that same effect.

Sheepishly, one of the guys steps forward while rubbing the back of their necks, visibly taken aback by the coldness in Hyunjin’s voice.

Hyunjin’s eyes narrow just as Seohyun links her arm through yours and tugs your body closer.

“Apologize.”

“Yes, captain!” He nods instantly, bowing repeatedly in Hyunjin’s direction to show exactly how sorry he feels for disappointing him. “I’m –“

“Not to me.” Hyunjin crosses his arms over wide chest, shoulder blade plates making him look even more intimidating as he stands to his full height, rolling his eyes. “To her.”

Your eyes widen as the guy looks up, searching for you with confusion visible even through his big helmet. Hesitantly, he changes targets, stopping before you and Seohyun.

“Hyunjin – “ You manage to squeak out, hating the way your voice almost gets caught in your throat, heat rushing to your face.

“Let him apologize.” His gaze travels to you leisurely, impatience clear in usual doe eyes.

But you aren’t far behind, a little annoyed by his insistence, managing to pull yourself together to counter. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“And last I checked, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” As quick-witted as always, Hyunjin isn’t even looking at you anymore, not bothering to react in any other way, like you weren’t even worth getting annoyed at. “He made a mistake that under normal circumstances, could have cost us the game. He needs to own up to it and apologize not only to you but to his teammates as well.”

Then, the guy seems to get smaller under his sharp gaze, instantly dropping into a deep bow and obeying Hyunjin’s words to a T. “I’m so sorry for throwing the ball in your direction!” In the next second, he’s spinning around and bowing to the other guys as Seohyun struggles to keep in her laughter at his next words. “I’m sorry for being an idiot!”

To his credit, Hyunjin hasn’t addressed him as such, always one to keep things professional. Yet, you notice the slight twitch of his mouth, obviously pleased and amused as Yeonjun bursts out laughing.

The guys bow in return, and suddenly they’re all shouting apologies at each other, owning up to all of the little mistakes they’ve made up until now that might’ve inconvenienced the other in some way, feeling bad for possibly giving anyone a hard time.

Not being able to hold it in anymore, your best friend almost collapses from laughter, needing to walk it off to calm down, only to start again as she locks eyes with Yeonjun a little farther away.

You’re so taken aback that you don’t even know how to react, watching the scene before you as flabbergasted as one could get. It was wholesome to see these kids already acting like a team but a part of you couldn’t help but feel bad once it remembered none might actually get to play and represent their university on the field. Hyunjin was trying to instil some discipline into them, but at what cost? What was the point?

Just as you’re contemplating everything that happened, the eight guys suddenly stop and turn to bow in Hyunjin’s direction as well, apologizing at the same time like it’s an activity they’ve rehearsed beforehand. It gets quiet as they wait for an answer, not even daring to raise their heads and see Hyunjin’s reaction, just patiently waiting for the go ahead so they can go back to practice.

Since when was Hyunjin running this team like the fucking marines?

Despite not looking at him, when Hyunjin nods they all stand to their full heights before him, awaiting further instructions. The mood shifts, all tense and serious like they weren’t sweet and wholesome just a moment ago.

“Since none of you seem able to handle one of these yet,” he barely finishes his sentence before Yeonjun passes him the ball, catching it with ease to hold up for the others to see. It all happened so quickly and naturally, that the others most likely didn’t notice, but you did. Hyunjin isn’t using his dominant hand. “you’ll be running laps until the coach gets here. Whoever is not up for it, drop your gears – you’re out.”

You’re expecting complaints and groans in protest but instead, they all nod and succumb to their miserable fates, doing exactly what Hyunjin has instructed. A little further away, you notice Yeonjun laughing without shame, having a blast at their expense.

“Asshole.” Seohyun murmurs, rolling her eyes, and you’re unsure who she’s talking about. “Let’s go. Any more time and Chris will send his speedo wearing army out in the wild to look for us.”

You want to laugh, to agree, and turn your back on this incident and leave without a word. But you can’t, feet lodged into place like you were standing on the biggest patch of mud around.

Hyunjin’s back was already to you, form cladded in that familiar uniform you’ve felt under your fingertips for years. The 20 under his surname written in capital letters on his jersey were almost mocking you, mad for holding their twin hostage in your mess of a closet. It doesn’t matter – in a month or so, they’ll be replaced in favour of a new design that comes around every new season. Just like your presence in his life will inevitably be filled by someone else; someone better, capable of loving him at his worst.

You had so much to say, so many words eager to escape and latch onto him, to get his attention and feed from it, growing bolder and more desperate with every second spent by his side. Hyunjin always brought the best out of you – until he broke things off. Then everything just came to a stop. Like someone lifted the stylus off of a vinyl before the song got the chance to come to an end, damaging the record and your ears in the process.

You loved music but suddenly, your life was quiet.

Hyunjin has been your muse for the entirety of your relationship, all of your songs based on him and the love that managed to blossom thanks to your shared effort. The butterflies and the fireworks all faded without a trace, making your music sound bland and meaningless, off-key since the one who inspired it was no longer there.

You wanted to call out his name, get him to stop and not leave you behind again but you didn’t know how, unable to without bursting into tears and breaking down for everyone to see. Hyunjin has been a part of your life for so many years, how were you ever supposed to start acting like he never was? Erasing him and the mark he left would surely be impossible without a potion of sorts, some Eternal Sunshine mechanism that will ensure your brain will be tricked into believing he was never here, to begin with.

Seohyun is off to the side, giving you the space needed to put your thoughts in order, for your next move. This was your chance, the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t run after him no matter how loudly your heart was screaming in protest.

So, you turn around and latch onto your best friend as she begins pulling you along, quick to come to your rescue as always. Struggling to keep it together, with tears welling up in your eyes, you miss the way he turns to look in your direction one more time. One last time.

You’ve always believed Hyunjin was the love of your life, the one you’d grow old holding hands with.

Now, your perspective has changed, as did the main character role he has played in your story for the past five years. No longer was he the charming male lead, the prince coming in on a white horse to swoop you off your feet in a grand gesture of romance.

Hyunjin was the loss of your life. The one that managed to get away even with the tight grip you’ve tried to keep on his heart.

Hyunjin transformed into a background character that won’t be there for the ride, and won’t get to witness the new developments happening from now on in your life.

You would have rather been the one written off the story if it meant keeping him. Unfortunately, that was not a possibility since without you, there wouldn’t be a story to begin with.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

[ssivinee]

❥ 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎

Le Sserafim! Nakamura Kazhua x F reader: You and Kazuha both come into a tight spot. She needs a 'fake girlfriend' to make her parents happy, and you need to help your dad, who needs dire help. How will the rich and popular girl and a nobody like you help each other out?

Word Count: 6.3 k

Author's Note: Writing this one actually came so easy to me, like it was so refreshing😭. ANYWAYSSSSS I'll be working on a few fics this month FOR SURE since the break is coming up! I'll have a few things coming up in school, and college WILL be kicking my ass but before and after all that, I'll try and update as much as I can.

The warm aroma of miso soup filled the air as you ladled portions into bowls, your movements practiced from countless nights spent at your father’s restaurant. The steady sizzle of tonkatsu in the hot oil, the clinking of glasses as men toasted as a celebration, and the occasional chime of the register felt as natural as breathing.

Your father fixed the dishes on a large tray: two bowls of miso soup, steaming plates of tonkatsu with rice and curry, a platter of salmon sashimi, and some plain green tea. He handed it off with a nod, and you hoisted the tray onto your shoulder, carrying it to a table where a young couple sat, lost in their little world.

Returning to the counter, you set down the tray and started wiping down tables, each swipe bringing closing time a little closer. After wiping down the last tables and cleaning the floors, you closed the register and changed out of your uniform.

“Otosan! I’m heading out!” you called from the door. Your father looked up from his notebook and calculator long enough to wave goodbye, immersed in tallying up the day’s earnings. Hopping on your bike, you pedaled home under the quiet night sky, planning to tackle your homework before bed.

This was your daily routine: mornings at university, afternoons helping your dad at the restaurant, then late nights finishing assignments. It wasn’t an amazing lifestyle, but you and your dad were getting by, and that was enough.

The scholarship you’d earned was the key to giving your father a better life, and you were determined to keep it that way. Whether that meant long hours studying or missing out on having any kind of social life, you didn’t mind. As long as you succeeded, that was what mattered.

But life wasn’t smooth sailing either. You attended a prestigious university filled with classmates from the country’s wealthiest families. You’d worked hard to pass the grueling entrance exam, clinching one of the top scores that earned you a scholarship for a business degree. That meant you had to work 10 times harder to keep your spot in school.

Now, you sat at your desk, fingers nearly flying over the keyboard as you worked on a project for business class. The computer was slow—a model you’d saved up for after countless shifts—but it did what you needed, even if you had to be patient with it. You then finished up as quickly as possible, just before you were extremely exhausted and crashed into bed.

You woke up to the harsh blare of your alarm at five in the morning, practically slamming it off as you dragged yourself up, feeling like you’d just been hit by an earthquake. Stretching the sleep from your limbs, you quickly showered threw on a plain polo, a knitted sweater, and some hand-me-down jeans. With classes starting at seven and living an hour away by bike, this was your routine—always the first one in the classroom.

As other students trickled in, you were already immersed in your textbook, laptop open, barely noticing the bustle around you. “This is why you have no friends,” a voice teased, pulling you out of focus. You looked up to see your best friend, Tanaka Anna, grinning at you.

“Then why are you here?” you shot back, smiling as she took the seat beside you. Despite being one of the “rich kids,” Anna quickly became your closest friend in that first week of school. Both of you were some of the top students in your class, and the bond you formed was effortless.

Meanwhile, across town in Osaka, Nakamura Kazuha was just stirring awake. Even fresh out of sleep, Kazuha exuded an effortless beauty. With her family’s prestige, she was known for her grace, wealth, and status—a girl who seemed to have it all.

Kazuha’s morning began in her usual luxurious bubble. She opened her eyes to soft light filtering through silk curtains, stretching slowly against the plush, oversized pillows. As she got out of her bed, she slipped on a velvet robe and made her way to the bathroom, where everything—from the marble countertops to the gold fixtures—yelled rich in anyone's face. 

She took her time in the shower, letting the warmth ease her into the day, before wearing a high-end light blue blouse, matching skirt, and short white heels. The final touches were a pair of delicate pearl earrings and a designer bag to match.

By the time she came down her grand staircase for breakfast, the family’s chef had already prepared a large spread: sliced fruit arranged like art, freshly baked pastries, and perfectly poached eggs. She settled in at the long dining table, enjoying her home's quiet and refined atmosphere. But it wasn’t long before her parents joined her, each with their usual aura of authority.

“Kazuha, darling,” her mother, Mitsuko, began, setting her teacup down with a slight clink. “Your father and I wanted to discuss something important.”

Her father, Ichiro, nodded. “The company ball is next month, and it’s…well, you know how it is. We’d like you to bring a date this year.”

Kazuha paused, her fork hovering mid-air. “A date?” she asked, the idea feeling suddenly foreign. She was used to being in the spotlight on her, but with a date?

“Yes, Kazuha. You’re at the age where these things are expected,” her mother replied gently. “You’ve been so focused on yourself, but you need someone who can stand beside you, someone accomplished. It would make a good impression.”

Her father added, “It’s a chance to meet someone who’s not only a match in standard but also has the intellect to keep up with you.”

Kazuha swallowed, the weight of their expectations settling over her. She had high standards, and finding someone who was smart and emotionally intelligent, especially in her circle, felt nearly impossible. The clock was ticking, though, and she knew her parents would be relentless until she found someone. He parents weren’t one to judge, but they had some expectations that not many people reached.

Later, in the school cafeteria, Kazuha shared her dilemma with her two closest friends, Yunjin and Chaewon, as they sipped their lattes. “I just… I have no idea who I could find that’s… I don’t know, like that? They have to be smart, like really smart, and have a good head on their shoulders. But most people here are either too shallow or stupid.”

Yunjin began thinking for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “Maybe~, you’re in luck. Y/n. Top student, really smart, doesn’t exactly live in a bubble like most of us but could probably act like it.”

Chaewon nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s definitely a good option. Not a pushover, but they won’t embarrass you either. I think they’d be convincing enough to your parents.”

Kazuha thought for a moment. Y/n wasn’t exactly the first person she’d ever consider as a “date,” but you had the qualities she needed, at least from what she was hearing from her friends. And perhaps, with the right incentive, you might just agree to help her.

During your lunch break, you were scanning over some notes when Kazuha appeared before you, looking both determined and slightly nervous.

“Y/n, I have a proposition,” she began, choosing her words carefully. You looked there confused, never imagining someone this famous talking to you. “My family is hosting a ball next month, and I need a date. It’s important that they’re…well, someone smart, someone good with people. And I think you’d be the perfect choice.”

You raised an eyebrow, barely glancing up. “No thanks, I’m not really interested in being someone’s date.”

Kazuha’s expression shifted as she leaned in, desperation flickering in her eyes. “Look, I’m willing to make it worth your time. I’ll pay you—100,000 yen.”

That caught your attention. You looked at her properly, noting how she tried to maintain her usual composed expression despite the obvious urgency in her voice. “I’ll think about it,” Kazuha took that response, nodding furiously as she took a piece of paper from your notes, writing something down.

“Here’s my number. If you make up your mind, just give me a text,” You were about to say ‘okay,’ but she anxiously walked away, going back to her table. Your fingers trail to the paper, looking at the number but paying no mind to it as Anna comes to sit with food in her hands. 

You told yourself you’d think about it later. “What was Kazuha doing here?”

“Huh?” You look at Anna in surprise. She hands you a sandwich, her brows raised in interest. “Oh, she was just asking me about Professor Ito’s class,” you try saying confidently, which works as Anna just shrugs and begins eating her food.

Anna had already started chatting about her morning, sharing the latest gossip and complaining about her calculus homework, which you gladly offered her help with after work on call.

After lunch, you headed to your next class, slipping into your usual seat in the back. The professor discussed business ethics, but your mind drifted back to Kazuha’s offer. The idea of pretending to be her date for a month—just to impress her family and their high-society crowd—felt entirely out of your comfort zone.

As the class ended, you tried to shake off the lingering thoughts. You had work to do and didn’t want to be distracted by a girl like Kazuha, no matter how much money she offered.

Your next stop was the library, where you planned to work on your project. It was a presentation, so you had to make sure it was perfect to save yourself from embarrassment. The quiet hum of the library was a relief after the loud and crowded hallways, and you found a secluded spot to set up. As you opened your laptop and began typing, you noticed a familiar face a few tables down—Kazuha, of all people, was sitting with Huh Yunjin and Kim Chaewon. They were talking in low voices, and every so often, Kazuha would glance around as if worried someone might overhear.

You tried to ignore them, but their conversation kept drawing your eye. Eventually, you buried yourself in your notes, focusing on your work, determined to stay on track. As minutes passed, you got into a rhythm, typing away as the library around you faded into the background.

By the time you finished, the sun had started to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the library windows. You packed up your things, feeling accomplished after making some serious progress on your project. Heading out, you passed by the university’s main quad, where groups of students were sprawled on the grass, enjoying the evening air. You caught sight of Anna again, now sitting with a few friends, laughing at something on her phone.

You waved to her and kept walking, mind back on your to-do list. 

It was now after your shift, and you were doing your nightly cleaning of the restaurant, but a low, tired sigh interrupted that. You look at your dad, who was doing his usual finance check, but his hand gripped the side of his head, and he shook it in disappointment. With concern, you go over to him, sliding your hand up and down his back.

“Everything okay, otosan?” you asked, your tone light, though you’d noticed the tension in his shoulders and the tightness around his mouth. He shook his head and lowered his reading glasses, his gaze fixed on the old open notebook.

“It hasn’t been for a while, Y/n,” he admitted, his voice drowned in stress. You glanced down at the page filled with columns of numbers, each line a reminder of the months he’d been struggling to keep up. Your stomach sank as your eyes settled on the red circle at the bottom.

“80,000 yen?!” you exclaimed, your voice rising as the reality of the number hit you. Your father nodded, the faintest tremor in his hands as he pushed the book toward you.

“If we don’t pay by the end of this month, we’ll have to close down,” he said, his voice cracking. You felt your chest tighten as you watched him lower his head, shoulders sagging under the weight of shame he tried to hide as tears began dropping.

Before you knew it, you were reaching over, wrapping him tightly. He leaned into you, his struggles now fully visible. “I’ll find a way to keep this place open,” you murmured, feeling the promise settle deep in your bones.

“Y/n,” he started to say, pulling back to look at you, but you just nodded as pure determination coursed through your veins. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, the restaurant’s debt being too large for your dad to handle alone.

After helping your father close up for the night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of how you could come up with such an amount so quickly. The scholarship helped with university fees, but that was about all the financial freedom you had. The rest was a constant scramble to save and help out however you could. 

You couldn’t—wouldn’t—let your father’s efforts be for nothing.

Yet you were stumped. Thinking of ways to help him, even if it were just a short solution. Your eyes then drift to the pocket of your raggedy jeans that hung on a hanger on your closet door. As if a light bulb went off, you rush over to the pockets, taking out the wrinkled paper that held Kazuha’s number. 

You reached for your phone, texting her quickly, and sighed as you hit send.

Kazuha had been lying in bed, eating some chips as she watched a movie before bed. Feeling the buzz of her phone, she read the message that made her smile: It’s Y/n. I’ll accept your offer.

The feeling of relief sank in quickly, deciding to respond back just as fast: Got it. We’ll talk in person tmmr.

Kazuha couldn’t contain her excitement, texting her group chats with a big grin stuck on her face.

Zuha🦢 SHE SAID SHE’D HELP ME OUT EEEEEEEEEEEE Jen🐍 woah wasn’t expecting that to actually work out Chae🐯 wait what about her status? ik Y/n isn’t rich 🤔 Zuha🦢 i got that handled. ill talk to her about it tmmr Jen🐍 goodluck with that then 🤩

With the good news, Kazuha’s sleep was amazing that night. So the next day, during your break after your business and statistics class, you barely sipped your coffee when you noticed Kazuha approaching. She seemed more put together than yesterday, her expression a mix of confidence and happiness as you felt the peppiness from a mile away. She stopped just in front of you, a polite smile on her face.

“You free now?” You nodded, which had her quickly taking a seat across from you. “So let’s talk about the ball first,” she started. “It’s formal, of course, with a lot of people from my father’s company, some rival companies, and family friends attending. I need you to play the part of a rich, smart, and well-behaved girlfriend.”

“Alright…” you nodded, leaning in as Kazuha launched into more details.

“And as far as your ‘background’ goes, we’ll need to smooth over a few things,” she added carefully, her gaze flickering over you as if assessing what she was working with. “Tell me about you first.” “Well, uhm, my mom passed away from a heart disease when I was four years old, so it’s only been my dad and I. I’m on a scholarship here, and I work in my dad’s restaurant. She fought for a long time, and…well, my dad’s been managing on his own since,” as you finished the short summary of your life, Kazuha couldn’t help but feel sad for your mom. 

Kazuha’s expression shifted immediately, her eyes softening as she nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her usual composure breaking just enough to reveal a genuine sadness in her gaze. She reached out momentarily as if to offer a comforting touch, then thought better of it, folding her hands instead. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you. Really.” You waved your hands frantically at her, passed the pity and grieving stage. “It’s been a long time, don’t worry about it.”

Kazuha tries to move past the subject. “So you’re gonna be the child of a successful family, then. Your father owns a chain of restaurants,” she said, pausing as if trying to gauge your reaction.

You raised an eyebrow but decided to go along with it. “Alright, we’ll leave out the real specifics,” you said, slightly grinning. “If your parents are convinced, that’s all that matters, right?”

“Exactly,” Kazuha replied with a relieved smile, then hesitated, her expression softening.

Kazuha nodded thoughtfully as if committing everything you’d said to memory. “Alright, for our story, your dad’s chain will be ‘up-and-coming.’ We won’t mention the name; I’ll handle any questions from my parents.”

“Right,” you replied. “So…what’s the next step?”

Kazuha’s face lit up a little, her businesslike expression slipping back into one of enthusiasm. “First, we need to make it believable. If people see us together, the rumors will spread, and my parents will hear about us before we even have to introduce you. So, a slight makeover and some new clothes.”

You raised an eyebrow; the idea of a “makeover” is not exactly high on your list of priorities. “New clothes? Aren’t people just going to think we’re…together if we’re seen in public a lot?”

“Exactly. That’s the point. We want to make it believable to everyone else first, so my parents buy into it,” Kazuha explained with a sly smile. “Trust me, it’s easier that way.”

You sighed, wondering just what you’d signed up for. “Alright, fine. Lead the way.”

The next day, you met Kazuha in the city, feeling more nervous than you’d anticipated. She took you to a luxurious shopping district that, honestly, you’d only ever seen in passing. Her eyes lit up as she led you through the marble-floored entrance of the first boutique.

“Alright,” Kazuha said with a determined smile. “Let’s find you something that says, ‘sophisticated and slightly out of everyone’s league.’”

In the first store, she handed you a blazer and high-waisted pants, then a chic blouse and dress slacks, each piece seemingly more expensive than the last. You tried on outfit after outfit, and Kazuha would look you over, making tiny adjustments to the sleeves or tilting her head thoughtfully before approving or rejecting each one. Soon, there was a stack of ‘approved’ items in her hands, and you were only beginning to realize how committed she was to this whole “couple” thing.

After several bags of clothing, she led you to a high-end salon in the district. The place was sleek, and the stylist practically glowed when Kazuha told them what she was envisioning for you. You barely had a chance to speak before you were in the chair, caped and ready. They added soft layers and volume to your hair, trimming it in a way that made it frame your face, and the stylist styled it with effortless waves, adding a sense of ‘rich’ vibes to you.

Once the haircut was done, Kazuha gave a little approving nod, almost as if she were admiring her own handiwork. “Perfect,” she said, a small smile of satisfaction creeping onto her face. “Now, for the ball…”

She led you to yet another store, where you noticed her eyes darting between the dresses on display and the sleeker suits on the other side. Finally, she grabbed a tailored navy blue pantsuit, complete with a fitted blazer and high-waisted pants. The fabric looked soft, and the cut was elegant. 

When you tried it on and stepped out of the fitting room, Kazuha’s smile widened. “That’s it. It’s perfect on you.” She handed the attendant her card without another word, leaving you feeling both flattered and somewhat stunned at the transformation.

Over the next few days at school, you and Kazuha started hanging out in the open, just as she’d planned. You sat beside each other during lunch, walked to classes together, and even laughed at each other’s jokes like an actual couple. 

It wasn’t long before people started talking. Anna finally cornered you at lunch with a smirk on her face. “Alright, spill. What’s going on with you and Kazuha?” Anna nudged you, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

You gave her a shrug, trying to play it cool. “It’s…kind of complicated,” you started, but Anna was already crossing her arms, ready to hear all the details.

With a sigh, you explained the situation, from the fake relationship helping her with the ball to the makeover Kazuha had insisted on to your father being in debt, and you do all this for him. Anna just shook her head with a laugh. “So, you’re basically the prince in this Cinderella story, and she’s…what, the princess in disguise?”

“Something like that, I guess,” you chuckled, though you could sense how strange this all sounded. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of it. You’d been helping your dad as usual but found yourself waiting for each break to see what Kazuha might come up with next.

All of this was beginning to feel too real to you. On a random school day, you and Kazuha had been hanging out on campus at a place with a good view. Just the two of you, sitting on a bench as her head leaned on your shoulder. “You know, this isn’t so bad,” she says as she stares off, and you find yourself staring at her as she speaks.

“These past few weeks have probably been the happiest I’ve been in my life.” You smile at her words. But when she looked at you directly in the eyes, your heart skipped a beat. Her eyes are large as she looks at you so hopelessly. Your heart raced as she smiled with genuine happiness. 

On a different day, a rainy afternoon, you and Kazuha found yourselves tucked away in a small coffee shop off-campus. The rain had started out of nowhere, and after a rushed dash to find shelter, you both ended up laughing as you brushed the rain from your jackets. It was quieter than usual inside, only a handful of people scattered throughout the cozy café, and you and Kazuha snagged a booth by the window, watching the rain drizzle against the glass.

Kazuha stirred her hot chocolate absentmindedly, a small smile on her face as she leaned across the table toward you. “I think we make a pretty cute couple,” she teased, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

You raised a brow, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Do you, now?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, a playful grin spreading across her lips. She reached over and took your hand, threading her fingers through yours without hesitation. Her touch was warm, her thumb grazing the back of your hand in soft circles, and her expression turned softer, her gaze lingering on your joined hands as though they fit perfectly together.

“It’s kind of unfair, don’t you think?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What is?” you asked, your voice quiet in return, as if the moment was too fragile to break.

“That you get to look at me like that,” she replied, meeting your eyes, “but I’m the one who can’t look away.”

Her words hit you like a sudden rush, leaving you speechless. Her gaze was tender, searching your face as if trying to memorize every detail. She leaned a little closer, her free hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. For a second, you thought she might pull away, but instead, she stayed, her eyes lingering on yours with such intensity that you couldn’t help but feel your heart race.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Kazuha’s soft smile stopped you. “You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered, still holding your hand. “I just… I’m glad it’s you.”

With the act almost becoming real, the rumors spread quickly, just as Kazuha had hoped. You started noticing curious looks and hearing whispers as the two of you walked down the halls every day. It didn’t take long for the rumors to reach Kazuha’s parents as other kids were beginning to tell their parents about the visual-like couple.

But not everyone seemed thrilled by it. Tsuki, a girl you wouldn’t usually see around Kazuha before, started lurking nearby during lunch, watching the two of you with narrowed eyes. Finally, one day, she approached your table, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Kazuha,” she began dismissively, looking Kazuha up and down with a disdainful expression. “Is this the best you could do?” She snorted, her gaze lingering on you. “I thought you had standards. Isn’t she…a bit out of your league?” You were surprised, trying to hide it. She was talking to you, saying Kazuha was out of your league? You could almost laugh at the comment.

You clenched your jaw but stayed silent, waiting to see how Kazuha would respond. Kazuha’s eyes darkened as she opened her mouth to retort, but you placed a gentle hand on her arm, shaking your head slightly. You turned to Tsuki, keeping your voice steady.

“Funny,” you said, meeting Tsuki’s gaze. “I didn’t realize other people’s standards were your concern.” You offered a polite but firm smile. 

Tsuki glared but huffed, turning on her heel and walking away, though not without a parting sneer. Kazuha looked at you, her tension easing as she let out a relieved breath. “Thanks,” she murmured, a hint of a smile returning to her face.

Finally, the night of the ball arrived. You dressed in the tailored pantsuit, running a hand through your styled hair and taking a deep breath as you checked your reflection. When you arrived at the large venue hall to meet her parents, you found yourself on edge, but Kazuha reassured you with a warm smile.

Her parents, Mitsuko and Ichiro, greeted you with polite smiles, though you could tell they were evaluating you closely. As you settled into introductions, Mitsuko eyed you thoughtfully. “So, Y/n,” she said smoothly, her eyes flickering to Kazuha with a hint of warmth, “we’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” you replied with a smile, and Ichiro chuckled.

Kazuha’s hand brushed yours briefly as she added, “Yes, all good things. You’ve been such a huge support with my studies and…well, life in general.”

Her parents exchanged a look, the conversation continuing as the ball’s formalities began. You mingled, keeping up the act seamlessly as the night went on, and found yourself growing more comfortable in the role. Each smile from Kazuha felt a little more real, every glance just a little warmer.

The ball was in full swing, with the lights of the crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the elegant scene. You and Kazuha mingled effortlessly with her family’s guests, moving from one conversation to the next, and each time someone asked about Kazuha’s new “girlfriend,” you surprised yourself with how naturally the words flowed. You talked about her with such ease and admiration that anyone listening would have believed you were truly in love. Kazuha noticed, her gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity.

At one point, she pulled you aside to thank you, whispering, “You’re really selling this, you know? My parents adore you.” She had said it as a joke, but her eyes showed unmistakable warmth. 

You grinned. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

As the night wore on, you found yourself enjoying the warmth of her hand in yours, the comfortable way she leaned into you as you navigated the crowd together. Yet, as much as you were swept up in the moment, a pang of guilt ate at you. This was Kazuha’s world, not yours, and even though you’d agreed to this arrangement, you couldn’t shake the weight of knowing why you’d accepted it in the first place.

Needing a moment to gather your thoughts, you excused yourself and slipped outside to the balcony. The cool night air wrapped around you as you leaned against the railing, trying to calm the flood of emotions that had crept up on you out of nowhere.

Kazuha must have noticed your absence because a few minutes later, she appeared beside you, her brow furrowed in concern. “Hey… is everything okay?” She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You took a deep breath, deciding that it was time to be honest. “I… Kazuha, I took your offer because my dad’s restaurant is in massive debt. It felt like the only way I could help him. I know I shouldn’t feel bad because you asked, but—”

She cut you off with a soft smile, shaking her head. “Y/n, you don’t have to explain. This was my idea, remember? If anything, I should be thanking you. You’re helping me way more than I expected, and… honestly, I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side right now.”

Her words were gentle and understanding, but she could tell you still felt uneasy. So, she took your hand, looking up at you with an earnest expression. “You’re always talking about how much you love your dad’s restaurant. How it’s more than just a place to work—it’s part of who you are. And I get that. So…” She paused, her voice softening. “I want to help you. I want to invest in the restaurant, help with renovations, whatever it takes to keep it running.”

Your eyes widened, and you were at a loss for words for a moment. “Kazuha, you don’t have to do that…”

“I want to,” she replied, her gaze steady. “You’re doing this for me. Let me do this for you.”

At that moment, the full weight of her offer, of her kindness, settled over you. She wasn’t doing this out of pity—she genuinely wanted to help. And that thought, that selflessness, made you see her in a completely new light.

She flashed a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “Plus, just imagine the look on everyone’s faces when they realize their favorite restaurant got a glow-up, courtesy of Nakamura Kazuha.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension in your chest dissolve. “Alright, alright. But don’t think you can just buy your way to my heart, Nakamura.”

“Oh, please,” she teased, nudging your shoulder. “You know I don’t have to buy anything.”

As the weeks passed, Kazuha threw herself into the project with as much passion as you had for the restaurant. She helped with renovations, shared updates on her social media, and made sure her friends and family spread the word. When the grand reopening day finally arrived, a line stretched down the block. The place was packed, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air as your dad greeted customers, overwhelmed by the support.

At this point, she didn’t even have to pay you the 100,000 yen. This was so much more than enough for you and your father.

“Y/n,” he started, pausing as if searching for the right words. “Your girlfriend… she gave us a second chance at life.”

You looked up, surprised by the emotion in his voice. He rarely spoke like this, always focusing more on action than words. He noticed your silence and continued, his gaze softening in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

“I remember when your mother and I first opened this place,” he said, a hint of nostalgia in his tone. “Back then, it was just the two of us, struggling to make it work, but it was worth every late night, every sacrifice… because we had each other. And now, seeing you and Kazuha—she’s doing for you what your mother and I did for each other. Giving you support, standing by you.”

Your father’s eyes gleamed as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “She didn’t have to help us, go out of her way. But she did, all for you. That says something. Don’t take that for granted.”

You nodded, processing his words as they settled into your heart. He smiled knowingly, giving you a soft pat on the back. “I can tell how much you care about her. And I know it scares you a little. But don’t let that stop you. Hold on to her. People like that… they don’t come around often. And when they do, you don’t let them go.”

Your throat tightened, gratitude welling up inside you. Hearing your dad’s approval, especially about Kazuha, meant everything. You thought of all the small moments—her smile, her laughter, the way she showed up for you without asking anything in return. It all hit you at once, the depth of what you had.

“Thanks, Dad,” you murmured, a smile pulling at your lips. “I really do like her.”

He chuckled, ruffling your hair like he used to when you were a kid. “Good. Then don’t let anything hold you back.”

Watching from a distance, you couldn’t help but glance over at Kazuha, who stood beside you, taking in the bustling scene with a proud smile. “This is all thanks to you,” you said quietly.

She met your gaze, a soft glint in her eyes. “No, Y/n. It’s thanks to us.”

Months had passed, and with each shared moment, your feelings for Kazuha were now real to you, basically official. Every late-night conversation, every stolen glance, every quiet laugh over shared secrets had pulled you closer to her, and it was clear now: you were completely, undeniably in love with her.

One evening, Kazuha’s parents invited you over for dinner, a formal yet comfortable gathering at their home. The dining room was elegantly set, with an array of food laid out on the table. As you sat beside Kazuha, her hand resting discreetly on your knee beneath the table, you tried to focus on the food and polite conversation, but the weight of her parents’ glances didn’t go unnoticed. Something about how they looked at you tonight was different—almost piercing as if they were assessing you anew.

Midway through the meal, Kazuha’s mother, Mitsuko, set down her glass and fixed her gaze on you with a soft, almost too-knowing smile. “Y/n, we wanted to tell you how wonderful you’ve been for Kazuha. We’ve seen her happier and more at ease, especially these last few months. We’re grateful for that.”

Her father, Ichiro, nodded in agreement, though his gaze was more reserved. “Yes. And we noticed your father’s restaurant has been doing much better since… well since it became known that you’re dating our daughter.”

You felt your pulse quicken, sensing a shift in the room. They were putting the pieces together, tracing Kazuha’s involvement in your life and her influence on your father’s business. The implications were there, and you realized they must be questioning if any of this was genuine.

Kazuha’s hand tightened on your knee, a silent reassurance, but you couldn’t ignore how her parents’ gazes seemed to look through you, waiting for an answer. Taking a deep breath, you decided it was time to be honest. You looked at both of them, then turned to Kazuha, the words coming from your heart.

“When Kazuha first asked me to help her… I agreed, partly because my dad was struggling. I knew it was risky and how that might look to you now. But the truth is, I never expected this to happen. I never expected to fall for her.”

The room went silent, and Kazuha’s parents watched you with unreadable expressions. Heart pounding, you looked directly into Kazuha’s eyes, unable to hold back the feelings that had been building over the months. “Kazuha, you’re… so much more than I ever imagined. You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. And somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending. I fell in love with you. Completely. I want this—for real, if you do, too.”

Kazuha’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly as she took in your words. Her cheeks flushed, and for a brief moment, slightly embarrassed with her parents there. She looked as if she were struggling to breathe. Her eyes began to glisten, and a tear slipped down her cheek, though she made no effort to wipe it away. She reached for your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours as she nodded, a smile trembling on her lips.

“I’ve been hoping you’d say that,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Because I’ve fallen for you, too, Y/n. And I’m tired of pretending.” Her voice grew stronger, her gaze fierce as she held your hand tightly. “I want this. Us. For real.”

Kazuha’s parents exchanged glances, their expressions softening as they took in the scene before them. Her mother leaned forward, a gentle smile on her face. “Well,” Mitsuko said softly, “it sounds like you two have found something real after all.” She looked at you, her approval evident in her eyes. “We only want what’s best for Kazuha, and if that’s you… then welcome to the family.”

Kazuha’s father nodded, a small but genuine smile gracing his usually serious expression. “Take care of each other, and take this real relationship seriously,” he said simply, with respect in his tone.

As you left that evening, hand in hand with Kazuha, you couldn’t believe how everything had unfolded. The guilt that had weighed on you for so long was gone, replaced by a new feeling—a warmth, security, knowing that this was real. Kazuha leaned her head on your shoulder as you walked. The night air cooled around you, and you smiled, kissing the top of her head.

“Looks like we’re not pretending anymore,” you murmured, and Kazuha laughed softly, her arm wrapping around yours.

“Not even a little bit.”

[kokokoula]

drunk confessions

a/n: wow i haven't posted in a long while hahaha thanks for staying :) i'm so burnt out from exams please tolerate me🥲 again, not beta read, my beta reader is busy as heck because of a hellish sch system. also, i wrote all of this at 3am, i hope it's still readable TT (this is obvi in timeskip no underage drinking guys)

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"i think i love you."

you rest your head on your palm, gazing at him with soft eyes and warm cheeks. you reek of alcohol; tsukishima doesn't seem to care.

the two of you sit by the bar at the far end, where the light jazz music gets faint. he's thinking clearly, only a bit red from a drink or two— or is it something else?— while you're flat out drunk. his eyes widen slightly at your confession, and pauses.

"don't say things you don't mean." tsukishima eventually brushes you off, pushing his glasses further up. despite that, his heart beats a little faster, and he hates it.

you splay out your arms across the countertop, burying your face in them. he takes the last swig of his drink. there is the distant sound of glasses clinking and a cheer.

"tsukki?" his name is a bit slurred as you turn to him again. your hair is in a tangled mess, locks of it falling over your eyes. he resists the urge to tuck them away and behind your ear.

tsukishima nudges your foot: a sign to continue.

"y'know, when i first met you, i thought you were an arrogant, self-centred bastard. i hated you." you state, fiddling with your empty shot glass. wow, and just when he thought things were getting intimate.

"where exactly are you going with this?" he frowns at you.

"we used to bicker about almost everything at school. i can't count how many times yamaguchi had to step in." you giggle, hiccuping at the end. you didn't seem to have heard him but he doesn't mind. he shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his face; you look so cute being lost in your own world.

"remember it was our last class, and it happened to rain that day? you laughed at me because i didn't bring an umbrella." yes, he remembers. tadashi was sick that day, and the both of you ended up getting lectured many times by teachers for your incessant arguments. he almost laughs at the thought of it.

"i didn't expect to find your umbrella in my shoe locker after you left, though. you said you had an extra when i confronted you about it but yamaguchi already told me you had returned home drenched." tsukishima's face starts to burn. shit, being reminded of how down bad he was—and still is— is embarrassing. he wishes he was much cooler about it.

"i couldn't accept that you were capable of being nice, let alone to me..." it's even more so because of you.

"...till i realised you're nothing like what i thought you were. you admit your own faults, are too hard on yourself, and incredibly encouraging of your friends in your own complicated way. hell, even to hinata and kageyama!" you're sitting upright now, your hands making exaggerated movements as you talk. you take a deep breath in.

"it's your fault that i can't stop thinking about you, and that i get so sickeningly happy when i see you. so shuddup, i do mean it when i said i think, no wait, i know i love you." you rebuke him, pointing your finger at him like an angry child.

you have done it. you've lit his face on fire with your words. he can't tear his eyes away from your piercing gaze.

tsukishima isn't the most affectionate person, but maybe it's the late hour, or the influence of the alcohol, because he reaches over to caress the back of your head and bring you closer to him. his lips softly presses against your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. he sees your eyes sparkle.

since kei believes actions speak louder than words, he hopes you know that this, everything, means something.

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚïɞ "the sweet life" FC43

↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more with williams racing!

✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x maria amelia rodriguez (female!oc)

✧₊⁺ word count: 1,9k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺ genre: fluff

summary: in witch franco and maria are finally living the good life and they know how to enjoy it.

warnings: just the sweetest couple ever, cursing, some pda/making out sessions, just sad i couldn't write all their dialogs in spanish but i kinda did get a bit carried away. characters celebrating minor things like we do. there's two languages written in this and none is my native language so take it easy, i tried my best. hope you like it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:

⠀

Maria watched as her boyfriend exited the blue car, trying to stay calm and remove her big headphones with ease. Her purse was left somewhere in the box,  her focus was entirely on him. She looked around, trying to find any reason not to run to him. But she couldn't resist. Just as he was about to take off his helmet, she sped up, a big smile spreading across her face as he opened his arms. It was like nothing else mattered. "Vamos, bebéééé! P7!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Dios mío, I can't believe this is our life now!" "It is, baby. Best believe." he laughed, lifting her off the ground and shaking her playfully. "You're amazing! You're the greatest! Look at you!" Maria continued to praise him, back on the floor now and holding his face between her hands. "¡Te quiero muchísimo! ¡Muchísimo! I can't wait for the race tomorrow." "Just imagine how I feel!" he said before pecking her lips, smudging it a little in their shared joke. They had so many of these.. "Te quiero mucho más, princesa. Thank you for being here." They went way back. Back to middle school, when Franco would tear himself apart to keep everything together. Their love had only grown stronger with time. It survived the distance when he moved to Europe for his shot, until she turned sixteen and joined him two years later. All the homesickness and challenges they faced together only strengthened their bond. Celebrating his win felt like celebrating her own, squeezing in between her college life. Everyone in the Williams box knew that having Franco meant having Maria; they were inseparable. So it was no surprise when he carried her back inside the box, bouncing her around like she weighed nothing before dropping her on one of the couches. "We're celebrating tonight, huh? Let me talk to the team, and we'll set it up." he said, giving her one last kiss before messing up her hair and turning away to celebrate with the team. It had been too long since Williams dragged a car into P7, and if you asked Maria, she'd say only Franco could take it there. It was amazing to watch the team celebrate and fool around, before the excitement cooled down and they headed back to their accommodations. It was only a matter of time until the door was locked and Maria was in her boyfriend's arms, pressed between him and the wooden door. "When you said celebrating..." her hands roamed over his torso, her words whispered against his lips with a little smirk. "That's exactly what I meant," Franco smiled, his hands pinning her by the waist as he pulled her in for a real kiss. Her hands slipped around his neck, fingers brushing against his skin and into his soft curls, while his hand moved gently to her cheek, sending shivers up her spine. The room was silent except for their shared breaths, the adrenaline from Q3 qualy  still pumping. In the privacy of that small space, the kiss grew more heated, like they could become one at any moment. It was a kiss that spoke of celebration and the quiet comfort of knowing they belonged to each other, no words needed. When he started to explore her covered skin, their breaths becoming more labored, Maria chuckled at how strong she was about to be, stopping him from pulling her Williams shirt away. A whine and a frown from her boyfriend; she almost gave in. "Bebé... You're racing tomorrow, you need to rest," she said, holding his chin softly as he leaned into her touch, resting his head on her hand. "Don't give me those eyes! I'm taking care of you!" "I can't believe you're doing this to me," he sighed. "I mean... I can lay back and let you do all the work! I swear to God, Maria." "No, mi amor. No way. You qualified P7 today, I can't let that go to waste. You're laying back and sleeping, sir. Let's go shower," she said, patting his chest and waiting for him to turn around so she could follow him. "A quickie, then?" "Franco, no!"

"Ese, try this one. I swear it's delicious," Franco approached Maria with a plate full of small dishes he'd gathered for them to taste. "What is this? Is this a shrimp? You know I hate shrimp!" she dodged the food he held close to her mouth, Franco insisting as he got closer. "Mi amoooor... It's delicious! There's bacon, you'll like it!" "The things you make me do, Jesus Cristo." she rolled her eyes, closing them so she wouldn't see the shrimp going into her mouth. "Tell me. Delicious, huh?" Franco looked at her expectantly, celebrating with a silent "yes!" once she made a surprised face. "See!? I told you! Now try this one, this one you'll like. It's sweet, something with chocolate. Hold it." "You guys are funny." "Ai, Alex! Don't do that!" Albon laughed as he came across the room to grab some water, watching the couple while they focused on chewing. They were at the Williams accommodation in the paddock, with food and beverages served before the race and that is something they always knew exactly how to act around. Free food is free dood, no matter if you’re a teenager trying life in another continent or a good surprise in Formula One. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you guys were so distracted." the Thai driver said, still laughing. "Lily was asking me about you, and I didn't know the answers... How long have you guys been together?" "Eight years and four months," Franco answered, taking his teammate by surprise. "Eight years? Eight? Aren't you like... Twenty? You've been dating for eight years? You guys are married!" Alex almost spilled his water. "She's twenty, I'm twenty-one," Franco began to explain. "We were thirteen when we first kissed and never let each other go. Take notes." "Wow, wow! That's why you guys are so close! That’s crazy! It must be amazing growing up together like that." "It is," Maria smiled. "Through the best and the worst. My best buddy." It was easy for them to declare their love, just as it was for her arms to wrap around his waist. "Uh- tooth-rotting sweet. I hate you guys," Alex pretended to be annoyed. "And marriage? Do you guys think about it?" "My girlfriend in white? Of course I do," Franco said, hugging her tightly. "I'm securing my seat, and then we'll think about it. She's also graduating, so... We've got time." The truth is, they could spend a lifetime talking about their relationship, and Alex seemed genuinely interested. They talked about their plans for a modest house back home, a big backyard, and children. They were still young, enjoying the present while dreaming about the future. Alex found it amazing how excited they were for the next steps, yet so calm and happy living day by day, enjoying the small things like expensive food, big hotel rooms, fans screaming Franco's name, and the thrill of being recognized in the mall. Just sweet and pure, that’s what they are.

“¡Cállate la boca, Dios mío!”

Maria giggled beneath the fluffy blankets, pretending to still be asleep. Birthdays had always been a special kind of game between them, an unspoken contest to outdo each other with surprises. Was it a real competition? No. But it was theirs, a tradition that filled their lives with joy and spontaneity.

On Franco’s last birthday, she had convinced him she wouldn’t be able to make it. He was still racing in Formula Two then, fresh off the Monaco GP, only to have her show up at the motorhome with a cake in hand and a parade of drivers ready to celebrate his 21st.

Today, it was her turn. Half-awake, she assumed he might have rallied a few familiar faces; after all, back-to-back races left little time for elaborate plans. But the sleepy haze couldn’t explain why she heard voices speaking rapid Spanish in the next room.

“Bebé, I’m coming in. Hope you’re dressed.”

A small smile tugged at her lips as the door creaked open. Before she could process it, Franco walked in holding a cake, flanked by her mother and little brother, both bursting into song.

“¡Cumpleaños feliz, cumpleaños feliz, te deseamos todos, cumpleaños feliz!”

Her eyes welled with tears at the sight, lips trembling with emotion. “Alright, now you caught me off guard,” she laughed, voice thick. “Hola, mamá. ¡Vos extrañé tanto!” She hurried out of bed, pulling them into a hug so tight it almost toppled them over.

“Hey! ¿No me extrañabas, Pinón?” her brother joked, tugging her hair until she leaned down to wrap him in a proper embrace.

“Feliz cumple, hermanita. Te quiero mucho, y más ahora que estoy volando para los GPs.”

“Te quiero muchísimo también, Pinónzito. Gracias, Fran. No sabía que vendrían.” She turned to Franco, who stood there with a smile that matched the warmth in his eyes. Leaning in, she kissed him lightly. “Te quiero taaanto, mi amor. Gracias, de verdad.”

“El mínimo para ti,” he whispered with a grin, stealing another quick kiss. “Now, let’s cut this cake. We’ve got a full day ahead, and I’m starving.”

“Jesús,” Franco said, a hint of disbelief in his voice as he stepped behind Maria, her beach bag slung over his shoulder. They boarded the yacht, its polished deck gleaming under the sun.

“Did we peak in life, or…” he teased, eyes sweeping over the stunning seascape.

“We peaked life.” she said with a playful glint, spinning around and looping her arms over his shoulders. “And you know what? I wouldn’t want any of this without you.”

He looked at her, eyes roving her features like a map he knew by heart, hands resting comfortably at her waist. It was the kind of touch that spoke of familiarity and time.

“I think we’re here because it’s us. I wouldn’t do any of this without you,” he replied, a declaration wrapped in simplicity, the weight of his love implied in every word. “I can’t believe I got this lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, mi amor. You’re going places, and I’m the one who gets to stand by your side.”

They were both right. They’d grown together, woven into each other’s achievements, dreams, and futures. She was on the cusp of finishing law school, and he was rising higher in motorsport. It was their shared success — a partnership that went beyond love.

“If I’m going places, you’re going with me. Wherever we go.” His eyes held a brightness that felt almost tangible. “Te quiero, Maria. I really do.”

“Te quiero mucho,” she replied, eyes crinkling with emotion as they leaned in.

The yacht rocked gently beneath them as the sea stretched out infinitely. The sun, now lower on the horizon, turned the sky into a masterpiece of warm oranges and soft pinks. His dark hair caught the sea breeze, and her curls shimmered as they met, caught between the golden glow of day’s end and the promise of tomorrow.

They kissed, a connection steeped in years of love, laughter, whispered dreams, and shared victories. It spoke volumes of what they were — two parts of a whole, with an unbreakable bond.

In that perfect moment, surrounded by the sea’s vastness and the sky’s splendor, they had everything. The taste of salt on their lips, the warmth of each other’s touch, and the absolute certainty that home was here, in their embrace.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (:

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:.

[cinnablu3]

Beautiful Stranger

This is my way of announcing My first Smau series, Beautiful Stranger, is officially canceled. My plan was just to ghost the series, but with the likeness, it did have, especially with the small number of chapters it had. I felt like to write something to make up for it. That being said enjoy Beautiful Stranger as a One shot. :)

Taking a train to Tokyo by yourself was scary, even after the hours that had passed on the train, you still refused to admit to yourself that it was your fault for oversleeping. "Next time I rely on Mai to wake me up." You huff reaching down to grab your phone to check the map.

Realizing you're not that far from reaching your stop, grinning how close you are to Tokyo now. 'Just another hour before finally reaching Tokyo.' A sigh of relief escapes your lips while the train makes its usual stops.

While people are in and out of the train, you pay no mind in your own little world. Your eyes begin to wander around before a figure walks in the cart at the last second, his hair catches your attention, watching him walk towards an empty seat across from you. You couldn't help but admire him, a smile creeps onto your face. Taking in his appearance, his hair was what caught your attention: a Platinum blonde color. 'Such a beautiful color' You thought.

You continue to stare, blushing, wondering how was he genuinely attractive. He feels your stare as he looks up from his seat with a small smile aimed in your direction. Realizing you have been caught staring, immediately look another way. A few seconds later you look back at him. However, this time, his attention was on his phone.

In the past hour, you have been silently encouraging yourself to go up to him and talk to him. Not realizing time is up as the train stops you grab a hold of a nearby pole immediately before you can fall. The door opens while people are in and out. Not saying anything, you frown but grab your things, exiting. You look back at the train, yet there he is, looking out the window, staring right back at you with a small wave before the train starts moving again.

After some time, you finally meet up with your classmates and settle down for your stay. Walking down with your friends Mai and Momo while Mai does most of the talking while Momo and you add your few comments here and there. "You doing all right?" Momo speaks up as Mai stops talking and looks at you.

"I'm fine, just a little bummed out.. when I was on the way over here, I saw a cute guy." They groaned. "It was like a fairytale moment that could've occurred, y'know." You huff. "He was cute I'm just upset I didn't have the courage to talk to him.

"You say that with every guy, you laid your eyes on." Mai replies with a grin while Momo smiles. "I think it's great, maybe you'll see him again one day." You bring Momo into a hug.

"This is why you're the best!" Before looking up at sticking your tongue at Mai. "Such a hater. Just humor me once in a while." Mai rolls her eyes and chuckles. "Whatever."

Walking down the halls of the sister school, unaware just a few steps away, was the same boy that caught her attention. "It's not like Y/n would have a boyfriend first anyway!" Mai laughs, nudging you. You roll your eyes before looking back and seeing him once more, your heart beats as the same feeling you had on the train creeps in. 'My beautiful stranger.' You thought as you wrapped both your arms, Momo and Mai.

"let's go have lunch I can't wait to battle the sister school students! I'm pumped!" While Mai and Momo raise a brow at the sudden change of attitude. "I'll pay it's on me!" You added as the girls giggled and ran down the halls. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

From afar, Inumaki smiled, acknowledging that this won't be the last time he'll see you; it's faith to see the same stranger twice. He won't let the opportunity go to waste. His beautiful stranger.

Taglist: @shutingstar @megumisdivinedogs @yapperalert @walllflowerrrsss @tomikixd @ind1col1te @lostsomewhereinthegarden @corvid007 @1ndee @lovley212

[an-idyllic-novelist]

I’m Not Your Fiancée, Ranma [a ranma saotome with fem!reader mini series] part two

warnings: anime/manga spoilers, slight canon divergence, very mild Akane bashing.

Hey guys and welcome back to the second episode in this mini series! It’s been a wild ride writing for this classic anime, and so far the Netflix remake has delivered in laughs, drama, and slow-burn romantic tension!

Thank you all so much for supporting this content, I honestly wasn’t expecting so much positive feedback from everyone or to have requests to join the taglist! 😊 Shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 who helped me figure out a unique and fun way to write out this part, a journal entry from the one and only Nabiki Tendo!

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and watch for that bucket of cold water! :3

Part One

Who would have thought that Ranma Saotome would actually stand up for himself and spout off a subtle confession of love towards my little sister? Now, my dear Confidante, you may think he finally said it to Akane, and that the constant drama in my house would finally quiet down and there would be some peace, the likes of which hasn't happened since the pigtailed boy and his father came knocking on our door last year. Alas, that is not the case, because Ranma declared in the dojo that he wanted to have my adorable little [First Name] be the person he was engaged to rather than tolerate my sister once more.

Not that I blame him, really.

As much as I love Akane and the huge wade of bills I can bring home from selling photos of her at school, she can be a violent maniac whenever jealousy rears its ugly head and makes a big deal out of everything. Seriously, and I thought she was already a handful with her constant declarations of hating men, though I partially blame Kuno for that one, even if he is one of my best clients. Let me continue before I get off track. As the old saying goes, “time is money.” Naturally, Daddy and Mr. Saotome did not take the proclamation very well. It wasn’t even a minute before they stomped into the dojo and started yelling at him.

“Ranma, how could you?!” Daddy wailed as crocodile tears streamed down his face. “I know you and Akane love each other, that’s why you must go through with this engagement!”

“Boy, do you even know what you know what you are saying?!” Mr. Saotome bellowed. “Akane is your fiancee! It is your duty to marry her and carry on the school!”

Ranma scowled. “Oh, really? Do ya think she can even teach a student without flyin’ off the handle? An’ ya don’t have to be good at martial arts to run this place, anyway!” His hands hung by his sides, clenching and unclenching into tight fists. That’s usually a sign when he’s trying to reign in his own anger. “I told ya before that I didn’t come all the way here just so you can marry me off, but ya didn’t listen! So for once in your miserable old life, let me get a say in who I want to spend the rest of my life with!” He then turned to Daddy. “Mr. Tendo, I don’t love Akane. I mean…I did, or I thought I did, but all she does is get mad at me for things I didn’t do and make me try her cooking! She thinks I’m goin’ behind her back with Ukyo an’ Shampoo when they’re the ones who come onto me! What the heck am I supposed to do in that situation, anyway?!”

You could have just told them off, Ranma. But it’s your vow as a martial artist to never strike a girl. That’s how you’ve always been. As for [First Name]? Well, she was still on the floor, in shock at what she heard for a bit until she stood up and stepped in front of Ranma, shielding him from Daddy as his battle aura oozed into the dojo, changing my sweet dear Daddy into a demon version of himself, large head with a forked tongue and all that jazz.

“Dad, enough.” [First Name] said firmly. “Ranma has done nothing wrong. Ever since he’s been here, you’ve always blamed him for Akane’s unhappiness. I’m not saying he isn’t completely innocent, because sometimes it is his fault. But if what he’s saying is true, then we need to respect his decision. Mr. Saotome, I know you want to keep your promise to your old friend, but this engagement is something he didn’t want. It’s not what Akane wanted either, but everyone pushed them together. You perceived their loud shouting as adorable and believed they were a lovely couple.” [First Name] scoffed. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Father. Back. Off.”

Imagine my surprise when my easygoing little sister exerted her own battle aura into the dojo, something that rarely happens unless she’s extremely angered. I can do it, and so can Kasumi, but it’s like with [First Name]. Only when we’re really furious and that’s fine with me. I’d rather put my energy into making more money. Daddy also found it surprising, as he quickly redirected the conversation back to the problem.

“B-but the schools, sweetie! We must unite the schools before Mr. Saotome and I pass on! You know, the only way to accomplish that is through a betrothal!” I almost gagged at the sound of his whiny voice. Good grief, how pathetic.

“An engagement, not a business negotiation between two old friends?” [First Name] countered. “Where one of us manages the school, and Ranma and some other teachers can coach the students? Have you ever entertained that possibility?”

“Are you questioning our judgement, girl?!” Mr. Saotome snarled.

“I’m questioning your sanity!”

Naturally, I intervened before things got too messy. I told them all to calm down, and offered a solution: it’s obvious that Ranma does not want to get back with Akane, and he has expressed an interest in [First Name]. I had no interest in taking up bridal duties again. I’m pretty sure Kasumi still doesn’t like younger men, and has expressed little interest in dating either, at least that I know of. So, why not switch the engagement from Akane, and have [First Name] be his new fiancee? We’ll see how things go, and no pressuring them to do anything they weren’t ready for unless Daddy and Mr. Saotome want this arrangement to not work out because of their meddling. But my little sister’s earlier proposition wasn’t bad either, if things didn’t work out between Ranma and [First Name]. No one really gets engaged in high school anymore, and there are other ways to manage a martial arts school that didn’t involve marriage. I guess the reason Daddy never considered that idea is that he really wants one of us to marry his best friend’s son and retire. Mr. Saotome probably just wants to live comfortably for the rest of his life, so typical of the lazy panda man.

So, that’s where it stands now. Ranma and [First Name] have been engaged for over a week, and nothing’s really changed between them. Well, it’s more like they are still adjusting to these changes. Ranma is still weary of her, thinking my dear little sister is being nice and then will start acting like Akane as soon as [First Name] sees something she doesn’t like. Tut, tut, silly Ranma. But I’ll let him figure that out on his own, unless he pays the exclusive 10,000 yen consultation fee I offer and give an honest opinion. And [First Name]? Well, she still treats Ranma with respect, helps him with his homework, and doesn’t cling to him like Shampoo or Ukyo. In fact, if she has a club meeting, she insists he go home without her and she’ll be fine walking home at night.

[First Name] is too kind for her own good. Kasumi knows it too. She chided Ranma in the kitchen one evening when he came home without [First Name], saying it’s not a good idea to let a girl walk home by herself even if she says she will be okay. Ranma had the decency to look a little ashamed before shuffling back to the room he shared with Mr. Saotome to apparently get some homework done. Will wonders ever cease to happen in this house, my dear Confidante?

How is Akane taking this change? Not very well. She keeps insisting [First Name] can do better than a pervert, and things will only get worse. I beg to differ.

I already see that things around the house are much calmer. There’s been no fighting, no tables thrown, or Ranma flying across the neighborhood with bumps on his head. He may think we do not notice as soon as dinner is over, but he helps [First Name] with clearing the table or washing the dishes. One morning, I even saw him in the kitchen, getting her lunch out of the fridge and setting it next to her school bag so she didn’t forget it and eat at the cafeteria again. I was sure I wasn’t imagining it, sleep and caffeine deprived.

Everything will be fine. I’m sure of it. I can only hope that Shampoo or the other girls don’t get any funny ideas yet. [First Name] has said nothing about the engagement at school, and Akane just harrumphs and says she’s happy to no longer be engaged to a pervert anymore.

I want to write more, but it seems there’s someone knocking at my door. That’s strange. I wasn’t expecting any clients today. Will be back.

Later -

Unbelievable. Ranma Saotome has just left and made me richer after a lengthy consultation about where he could take [First Name] for their first date this Sunday. Mr. Saotome has been upset that he’s been neglecting [First Name] and somehow misconstrued it as a challenge, both as a martial artist and as a man. Honestly, it amazes me how can these people even be my family. Good luck little sister, you will need it. 

Taglist: @djh4l0v3rv3r @silverklaus @alee24x @loverofyandereboys @akiqvq @the-dumber-scaramouche @stingywiththeirusername @mochinon-yah @gudaworks @danyzta

[keyaho]

.summary. it was the start of the new school year. terry & blaire begin the steps of reconnecting as aaron and Brennan focus on branching out. a new family arrives to MPA.

.chapter warnings. themes of sex, slightly vulgar language :: Blaire pov | Brennan pov

co-writer: @zillasvilla

Noah was in bed by eight-thirty. Again, he requested his Dad’s attention and she sat on her bed slightly miffed about it. Prior to her shower, Terry had brought Noah in to say goodnight. She ran her hands over her son’s new cut again. Just a bit longer than his father’s cut but with those infamous little lines cut in. She had thought Noah wanted to sleep in her bed again, but one look from his Dad and he was telling her that he was a big boy and needed to sleep in his bed. Blaire shot a look at Terry then smiled at her son. After a kiss on the forehead, cheek, and a tight hug Noah was bouncing back towards his room. 

Now she was waiting for Terry, again, after her shower. They hadn’t shared a bed since last year and as large as the bed was he made it feel small.  She had some last minute work to catch up on and had those papers spread out on the bed beside her. Blaire chewed on her pen, flipping through files and signing off on important documents. The door was already open so when Terry walked in she didn’t notice him. He ditched his shirt on his way to the bed and she eyed the familiar tattoos that decorated his forearms. The lion had a chokehold on black men. 

“How much do you have left?” Terry asked. He slid in the bed behind her, his chest to her back and his hands resting on her thigh. “I want some attention.” 

“Not much,’ she didn’t want to lean into the embrace but she couldn’t hide that she missed him. She missed him so much. 

She told him as much. The warmth of his body pressed up against her as he looked over her shoulder. His thick arm flexed before he placed his hand on her stomach and kissed the side of her neck. The last thing they needed to be doing was having sex. It was the same cycle and it always ended with make up sex. Hot and intense. Terry was intense. The last thing she needed was a lower body realignment so she pushed his head away. 

“I have to get up early in the morning.” 

“Okay?” 

He pushed the strap of her top down her arm and kissed his way from her neck to her shoulder. His beard scratched against her skin and she shivered, gripping her pen tight in her fist. 

“Terry,’ Blaire whimpered. 

“Mmmhm?” 

“You don’t have condoms.” 

“How do you know what I got?” 

Blaire rolled her eyes. “I was always the one that bought them. I know you don’t.” 

Blaire’s body didn’t do well with birth control, Terry still wanted more kids, so when they were intimate he wore condoms. It made sense. As a married couple, it was their only option for birth control, no matter how much he hated it. He pouted every time he had to remove it and throw it away, but he never wanted to put her health at risk. He’d suffer so she didn’t have too. 

“Just once?” He asked. “I want to reacquaint myself with the way you feel. I’ll pull out.” 

Blaire turned her head to hide the smile on her face. That’s how they ended up pregnant with Noah. He didn’t know what it meant to pull out. 

“The last time you said that I ended up pregnant.” 

“Yeah, the back of my truck.” He smiled. “I married you the following morning.” 

“My Dad still wants to fight you for springing that on him.” 

“Your Dad sees me every day.” He replied, scratching his chin. “He gave me hell before I shipped out though.” 

Impulsive had been Terry’s middle name when they were younger. He made split decisions and acted on his impulses. His selfishness was a huge trigger in their relationship. She was glad when he came home from basic training that had been trained out of him. 

“He had dreams of walking each of us down the aisle.” 

“I still want to see that.” Terry admitted. “I’m always going to come home to you, Blaire. I know it doesn’t look like that but it’s the truth.” 

Blaire turned around and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Instead, he turned his head at the last minute and their lips touched instead. As always his scent drove her crazy. He didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to wear cologne. He just smelled good. It didn’t help that he was a good kisser, knowing just how to hold her to keep her there. Blaire pulled him closer with a hand on the back of his head. Her nails scratched into his scalp as he crawled into her lap. She pushed him away when his tongue licked at her lips, hoping to slip between them and into her mouth. She’d be putty in his hands if that happened. 

“Alright,’ she whispered, ‘I need to finish working.” 

Before that, she reached into her purse beside the bed and dropped the next month’s bills into his lap. He had been paying them in two places and with his lease breaking tomorrow he could focus on his main household. Blaire could have easily paid them, however, he had sent her the money for them monthly, refusing to give up that responsibility just because he wasn’t in the house. She wasn’t a single mother and he made sure she didn’t act like it. He picked up Noah from school three times a week, was here every weekend, fixing shit around the house whenever Blaire called her Dad to do it, maintained her car services, and just bought her new tires. Terry wasn’t going to let their arguments come between doing what he vowed to do. 

He paid most of the bills online and did so as she slowly started to finish and pack up her purse and work bag. When she rose up on her knees he realized what she was wearing. A gray lace night dress that had two long slits on the sides. Her thick thigh shook while she moved across the bed. The straps had fallen off her shoulders and the swell of her breast was the only thing keeping the top up. Her hair was in two braids with satin ribbons on the end to roll them up. He watched her over the top of his phone as she bent over to put her bags on the bench in front of the bed. 

Blaire was well aware of what she was doing. Crawling back to her side of the bed, she ignored his eyes and kicked back the blanket, ass in his face, before she crawled under the sheets. Terry passed her the black bonnet on his side of the bed and she slipped it on, turning out the light while he stared at his phone screen. He tossed the mail and his phone to the side, mimicking her by getting under the sheets. 

He didn’t have to reach for her. She rolled into his arms, her head on his chest and her arm thrown over his middle. He didn’t miss how tight she held him and the way her legs tangled up with his. 

“What time do you have to be on site?” 

“I’ll be here to help get Noah ready.” 

“Okay,’ she replied. “Will you be there for picture day? He’s been wanting to spend all his time with you.” Blaire was far from jealous, however, he could hear it in her voice. 

Noah needed his father and she was happy they had such a good relationship. Terry was a bit more structured than she was and had a stricter hold on the seven year old, but he loved his son and made sure he had everything he needed and wanted. 

“He’s growing up, dushi.” 

“He’s my baby.” 

“He’s not a baby though.” 

Blaire lifted her head. “You could have let him sleep in here tonight.” 

Terry rolled on his side, Blaire on hers beside him. He rested his hand on her hip, his fingers snaking beneath her dressed, and moved closer to her. 

“I was hoping to defile this bed tonight. I want to turn you every which way but loose.” He admitted. He licked his lips, and dipped his head to slant his lips over hers. “But you won’t let me.” 

His body covered hers, resting between her open thighs. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her legs went around his waist. Heavy, he rested some of his body weight on her, smiling as she curled her body into his. 

“Just let me push your panties to the side,’ he crooned in her ears. “I’ll slide right in.” 

Nasty didn’t encompass the things he was whispering in her ear. Filth fell from his mouth like a sonnet. 

“You better pull out,’ she warned. 

He in fact, did not, but only because she begged him not too. 

Aaron was an early riser. Usually up by four-thirty to get a workout in and stop and get breakfast–but today, he wasn’t rushing. He laid there a bit longer, feeling Brennan curled up against him. Her arm was draped across his chest. He lifted his hand to rub her arm and wrist, then brought her hand to his lips, kissing the soft skin along the back of it.

“Mmm.” Brennan stirred, turning her head, eyes still heavy with sleep. She met his ocean-blue eyes, squinting to look at the digital clock on his side of the bed. “What time is it?”

Aaron grinned, his lips still close to her skin. “Just a little after five-thirty,” he answered low.“You wanna sleep a little longer?”

Brennan pushed herself up on one elbow. “As nice as that sounds, I gotta get up soon. But I ain’t mad for a few more minutes with you.”

He chuckled, pulling her closer with one arm wrapped tight around her waist. “Aight, a few more minutes it is.”

They settled into a quiet, comfortable silence, the first sign of light spilling through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the darkroom. Aaron watched as she relaxed. He loved the way she looked first thing in the morning—eyes half-closed, her black silk bonnet sliding off her head, his shirt hanging loose off her shoulder cause it was way too big and a small, content smile spread across her face. 

“You make it hard to get outta bed,” she mumbled, her voice still dripping with sleep as she snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest. His hand that had been on her back shifted to rub her shoulder gently.

“Mhm, that was the plan,” he teased, his lips finding her cheek, then her nose, her chin, before landing softly on her mouth. The hand that had been holding hers slid under the hem of her shirt, fingertips grazing the warm skin of her back.

She let out a soft moan, her hand lightly patting his chest before gently pushing him back. “We gotta get up,” she said, a little firmer now, turning her head when he leaned in for another kiss. “Don’t wanna be late.”

It was Open house, and of course, just her luck, it was also picture day. Brennan-being the assistant director had a lot on her plate. She didn’t mind picture days—except for dealing with the parents, especially the dads who seemed to think they had a shot with her. Please, she thought. She needed to get her mind right, though. With a few more lazy kisses, she finally pulled herself out of his arms and headed for the shared bathroom.

“What you wearin’?” Aaron called out as he stretched, getting up from the bed. He headed to the closet on the left side of the fireplace in their room, the light flicking on automatically as his hand reached up to grab a couple shirts from the rack.

“We’re not matching.”

“We’re not matching?” he mocked, holding up two shirts and eyeing them with a smirk. “Woman, what are you wearin’?” He tossed the shirts on the bed with a dramatic flourish before walking around to the bathroom door. Through the mirror, he saw her rinsing her face, steam from the shower already starting to fog up the glass. Her movements were relaxed, like she was in her own little world for a moment. “You lettin’ me drive you today?" Aaron asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Brennan didn’t usually let him drive—she liked driving herself, not because she had to, but because she didn’t want anyone at work all up in her relationship with Aaron, even though they all knew. It was just easier for her to handle her own car and with their schedules always mismatched—him being the history teacher for grades fourth to eight and the Athletics Director—Brennan usually trailed behind him in the mornings.. His after-school football practices ran late, and she liked to be home before five.

She looked up at him through the mirror, a slight smirk playing on her lips. “You know I’m more than capable of getting myself to work.”

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a knowing look. "I know, but we both know you'll be in a better mood if I take you" 

“Would that make you happy?” Brennan asked, her eyes focused on the mirror as she watched his silhouette shift behind her. Aaron didn’t answer right away, just stood there, a quiet presence in the space between them. His hands come to rest on her waist, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin before he turned her around to face him. 

“What would make me happy…” he began, his voice steady but filled with an underlying heat, “is getting to treat you like my wife and not a girlfriend.”  His lips met hers in a kiss, soft at first, but deepening as he pulled her closer. Brennan melted into him, the familiar taste and warmth of him never failing to make her heart race. The kiss was full of everything they’d never quite said aloud—everything that had been held back for too long.

They’d been through so many phases of their lives together, on and off for years. But despite all of it, Aaron had never stopped wanting Brennan. She’d always been the one he’d come back to, but her stubbornness, her refusal to let herself fall into something too real, always held her back. 

Brennan pulled back slightly, her hands resting on his chest as she studied his shirtless form. “I thought we liked the privacy thing.” Her voice was teasing, but there was something deeper in the words too. She wasn’t ready to let everything out in the open, especially not when it came to them. They had always been private—their relationship was never for the world to see. But Aaron wasn’t the type to sit in the shadows anymore. He wanted more and he wanted it with her.

Brennan’s gaze flicked over him, and she realized—when had he taken his shirt off? She couldn’t help but notice how his biceps bulged with the tension. “How long has it been?” he asked, his voice low but carrying that same tone that always sent a shiver down her spine.

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are we starting from when we broke up back in school, or…?” 

Brennan hadn’t forgotten their history. Their relationship had always been complicated in the beginning.. They’d grown up together, practically next-door neighbors, but things got messy once they hit college. The jealousy, the fights, the breakups.Brennan was too stubborn to admit she gets jealous and Aaron not knowing how to soothe her insecurities. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the past, but the weight of it was still there. It always would be.

“Does it even matter?”  Aaron didn’t wait for an answer. His hands moved to sit her on the bathroom sink, moving to stand between her legs. He kissed her forehead gently.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “How long has it really been?” He didn’t just mean the breakups or the time they’d spent apart. He was asking about them. About this.

Brennan sighed, pulling away just enough to glance up at him-even sitting on high counters, he towered over her.. "Realistically?" she said, her voice quiet but sure. "Since we were 14." 

Aaron’s expression softened, his thumb brushing against her jawline as he studied her. “So, we’ve been doing this for how many years now?”

“Too many,” she muttered under her breath, but her lips quirked up in a small smile. It had been too many years of this—on-again, off-again, never fully giving in to the love they both wanted but couldn’t quite reach. But the truth was, they’d always been connected, always coming back to each other, even when they tried to fight it.

Aaron didn’t let her dwell too long on it. His lips found hers again, soft and slow, but this time with something else—something deeper, like he was grounding her to him. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Brennan,” he whispered against her lips, his hands tracing her back, pulling her in as if he could swallow her whole. “I married you for a reason.” She pressed her hands to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palms. She sighed, her forehead resting against his as she closed her eyes. 

“I know,” she murmured. She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. She couldn’t help it—her fear, her uncertainty about fully letting go of all the walls she’d built over the years. But maybe it was time to stop fighting. Maybe it was time to let him love her the way she’d always wanted. He was all she wanted.

He grinned, that familiar spark in his eyes. "I’m a patient man, Bre.” 

She leaned back, her hands resting at his sides as she reached for the clippers. “So am I trimming that goatee or no?” she asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Aaron chuckled, watching her with an almost lazy smile. “Yeah”

Brennan shakes her head, clippers in hand as she reaches left hand up to hold his jaw. She gently moves the sharp blades along the edges. The tiny hairs falling on his bronzed skin as she focused on nor nicking the skin. She loved doing this for him, something so intimate about grooming his beard calmed her racing nerves. His hands rested on her thick thighs, massaging the smooth flesh between his thick fingers. 

"So, what you wearin' today?" He asked, like it was a question he already knew the answer to but still couldn’t help asking.

Brennan glanced up at him, rolling her eyes but not hiding the smile tugging at her lips. "You already know I’m not matching with you," she replied, the words coming out light and playful, but there was something about the way she said it that made Aaron chuckle. She always acted like she didn’t want to match with him, but deep down, he knew she loved it. She just didn’t like to admit it.

Aaron shook his head, his lips twitching into a smile as he raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you say that, but you’re gonna be real mad when I walk out with some fly outfit, and I see you side-eyeing me 'cause you wish you thought of it first."

She shot him a look while finishing the other side of his beard. "Nah, that’s you, Aaron. You stay thinkin’ you look fly. I’m just tryna get outta here without having to deal with any of your antics"

Her words made him laugh, and he leaned in, his lips brushing her cheek. "you know I only got eyes for you."

Brennan wasn’t sure whether to roll her eyes or laugh at how smooth he was. The way he said it made it sound so natural—like there was no one else in the world who mattered but her. And while that was sweet, it also made her feel exposed, like maybe she had let him in too much. She quickly shifted her focus, trying to shake off the warmth that spread through her chest.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," she muttered, already reaching for her phone to check the time.

Aaron wasn’t having it. "You sure?" He took a step back, but not without lingering for a second longer, his eyes tracing the outline of her. "You wanna wear something  for me, though? Or you just gonna show up to work lookin' like you rolled outta bed?"

She kissed her teeth–her eyes meeting his after placing his clippers on his side of the double vanity sink. "I do roll outta bed. You’ve seen me."

He snorted at that. “Yeah, but you roll outta bed lookin’ like you belong on the cover of dumpster weekly or somethin’.”

Brennan gave him an exaggerated side-eye. "Aaron."

“I’m playing, nèchi.” He chuckles while leaning in closer, his hands resting on her hips as he kissed her forehead lightly. “You’ve got this effortless way about you. I love it.” His voice softened, the playful teasing replaced by something that sounded almost like admiration. “But seriously, you gonna tell me what you wearin’ today or what?”

Brennan rolled her eyes, but her lips curled into a smile. She shook her head like she was annoyed but clearly wasn’t. "You gonna stop actin' like you  my stylist?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I might have to take that job on, since I’m the only one who seems to care about what you put on."

Brennan groaned and finally gave in. “Blaire and I went shopping Saturday and I got this brown bodysuit and jacket from H&M.” She dusts the cut hairs from around his mouth. “Gonna pair it with some jeans and ankle boots..

Aaron flashed her a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “bo ta mustra bon sin importá kiko bo bisti.” He ran his fingers through the short coils of his fro. “But, I wanna stop hiding, nèchi” ”

Brennan looked at him, and for a brief moment, all the walls she’d built up in her mind seemed to fade. She let out a breath and nodded, her voice quieter now. “Okay.” 

Aaron smiled, his arms sliding around her waist as he pulled her closer. "You're still gonna let me drive you today?" His breath blew in her face while his nose rubbed against hers. 

Brennan rolled her eyes again, but her smile betrayed her. “I don’t need the whole school talkin’ about us.”

“Laga nan papia.”

Blaire was up at four. She grabbed her robe and yawned while walking down the hallway. She didn’t notice Terry’s side of the bed was empty. She was so used to getting up and doing things herself, that when she saw Terry in the kitchen pouring coffee into a cup, she jumped. His tall looming figure was missed, but it was odd seeing him back in her kitchen…..their kitchen. 

“Goodmorning, baby.” He greeted, a smile on his face. 

Terry passed her the mug before pulling her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and she noticed he was dressed. A white shirt, dirty looking dickies, steel toe boots, he was going to work. 

“Goodmorning," she replied. “I thought you,’ 

“I am. I’m going to give them the run down and help them prep to put up the frames so electrical can come in this week. I will be back here by six thirty when you wake him up.” 

“I’ll have breakfast when you get back.” 

“You don’t need to do that,’ he says, ‘I’m not expecting you to jump back into all that.” 

“I’m going to be cooking for Noah anyway and you will need to eat something.” 

“I mean,’ he says, tugging at the tie to her robe, ‘if you want to feed me you can lay down on the dining table.” 

Blaire’s face warmed at his words. She was far from shy but something about the way he spoke to her made her shy. She swatted his hand away and wondered if he brought all his things back yet.

“What are you taking to eat?” 

“I’ll stop and get something.” 

“What about dinner?” 

“Have I ever told you what to cook?” Terry shrugged. 

Blaire turned around and walked to the freezer, sifting through for something to cook later. She ended her days at three so she had plenty of time. Behind her, Terry pulled her away from the freezer and closed it. He pressed her against the counter next to the fridge and untied her robe. The kitchen was cold and she bit down on her lip as his rough hands rubbed up her thighs. He gathered the night dress around her waist with one hand while the other tugged at her panties. 

“What are you doing,’ she asks as he drops to his knees. “Terry!” 

He looked up at her while kissing the inside of her thigh. He drops it on his shoulder and she feels him shrug. Blaire’s other leg began to shake in anticipation. The light above the stove was the only light on as she cupped the back of her husband’s head. His lips worked over her sex slowly, her dampness spreading across his mouth. A warmth spread quickly in her lower belly as he held her up with his hand on the back of her knee. 

He hummed against her sex, smiling as he stroked her with his tongue. Blaire grabbed the counter and squeezed, her knuckles turning white. 

“Should have let me lay your ass on the table," he joked, only to grab her other leg and put it on his shoulders. 

He stood up and she let out a soft squeal, grabbing his head for balance. He didn’t want to risk walking like this with the lights out, so he used the island instead. Laying her down, Terry pushed her legs up towards her chest, then slid them open so they were almost touching the island. She tried to close her legs, not to feel so exposed, but he swatted her thigh. 

“Keep it open for me,’ he huffed. “Are you still hiding from me?” 

He knew her body inside and out, having seen it so much. Last night he did exactly what he said he would; push her panties to the side and slid in. They hadn’t even taken off their clothes. 

“I haven’t shaved,’ she admitted, eyes clenched shut as his thumb worked through her pussy, her slick collecting on the digit he swiped his tongue across. 

His mouth followed the same pattern, hot and wet and she whimpered softly. 

“I’m a grown ass man Blaire.” He turned his wrists and checked the time. “With an extra fifteen minutes to spare, keep them pretty thighs open.” 

Selfishly she missed her intimate life with Terry. He took care of her physically each time and she knew these next fifteen minutes would be the same. He loved all types of physical touch. The dick was heavy. None of the toys Blaire had compared to what was swinging between Terry’s legs and there had been many nights she called him just for dick. Of course he came. She did too, but that's besides the point. He was the only man that could scratch that itch. 

“Okay.” Her voice trembled. 

Her hands rubbed his head, the low cut hairs felt rough against her hands. Rubbing the back of his head, she sat up just enough to watch his tongue wiggle itself into her hole that was already leaking onto the island. For fifteen minutes, Terry penned his apology into her pussy with his tongue. 

He helped her off the counter afterwards and sent her to start getting ready for Open House. Blaire heard his truck leave the driveway and went back to the kitchen. She pulled out boneless chicken thighs to defrost because of course she was going to cook for him. She had plans to meet up with some of the work crew after school for dinner and she wanted Noah and Terry to have their own meal so schedules weren’t off. Plus, he’d have lunch for tomorrow and so would Noah who had taken to his bento box and wanted to use it all the time. 

Blaire had a ton of tasks today as the Open House was going to be hectic. It was an informal “first day” where students' photos would be taken, families could meet teachers, new families would be given tours, and it was going to be a day she probably didn’t get a chance to sit down. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to wear heels. They were her sneakers, the high heels clicking on the tile of the school was a stim for her. She was that person that walked down the hall jingling keys for no reason. 

After shopping with Brennan, she found a cream dress with red flowers on it. There was some lace around the top and it matched her nude pumps. She’d stretched her curls out and enjoyed the summer weather before fall set in. Blaire walked into the hall bathroom that Noah used. Wanting the day to go smoothly, she ran to his bath and went to wake him up. It was six in the morning and when she opened his door, he was already sitting up in his bed, an anxious look on his face. He jumped when she called his name and concern spread over Blaire’s face. 

“Hey Baby Bear,’ she greets softly as she walks to sit on his bed. 

The red and blue sheets were spiderman themed but lacked the character. Noah was always shifting his interest and it was easier to replace basic sheets than search for appropriate bedding in the style he wanted. 

“Goodmorning, Mommy.” He sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. 

He crawled into her lap and she hugged him while pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Daddy has to work?” 

Blaire rubbed his back and nodded. “Yeah, he does.” 

“Is he coming to school for pictures?” 

“He said he would.”

Noah jumped off the bed after that. He went about his morning routine as usual, having stuck to it even after school was out the previous year. Terry had told her many times how scheduled he was when she let him spend the night with him. He was becoming more self-sufficient, at seven, and that was in part to her involving him in his own care. It also helped that Terry indirectly did the same. He wasn’t as quick to console him when something was wrong like Blaire. He learned all his problem solving skills from his father. He has the emotional development appropriate for his age, but sometimes there was a spark of emotional maturity. 

Noah rambled on about getting Terry a Spider-Man shirt for the pictures and Blaire had to remind him these were for the yearbook, the fun pictures would come later. Over his breakfast he gushed about how Terry did this and that. It made Blaire feel a tinge of sadness knowing that energy hadn’t been in the house. 

“Can Daddy live here,’ he asked suddenly and Blaire almost dropped her coffee cup. 

“Yeah,’ she replied after a beat. His big hazel eyes were just like his Father’s. “Yeah. He can live here.” 

The front door opened and heavy boots filled her ears. She had a plate by the stove ready, knowing he was hungry, despite what he said earlier. Noah slid from his stool and ran over, his arms circling his Dad’s legs. Blaire was glad she had him in pajamas until right before leaving. He’d have black gravel soot and dust all over his clothes right now. 

“Mommy says you can live here!” 

Blaire turned her back quickly to the duo, option to make herself an ice coffee. 

“She did?” He says, dropping him back at the island to finish eating. “Where am I going to sleep?” 

Terry stared at his wife’s back as he walked over to where she was. He kissed the top of her head and his hand discreetly patting her backside. The dress doing little to hide her curves. 

“Mommy has a big bed!” Noah pressed his mother wit a question. “Can Daddy sleep in your bed Mommy?” 

Terry stood by the sink, shoulder to shoulder with Blaire and a smirk on his face. She moved to the sink, then stopped. 

“Yeah,’ Terry added, finally pulling his wife’s attention to his eyes. The double meaning to his words were not lost off Blaire and she licked her lips. His eyes tracked her tongue and his own darted over his full lips. 

“Can Daddy sleep in your bed?” 

"I'm Brennan Anderson, the Assistant Director here at Melanin Preparatory Academy," Brennan greeted warmly as she stood up from her desk.

Her tone was smooth, confident, though there was a softness in her eyes as she smiled at the family entering the room.A small family stepped inside, looking a bit nervous, especially the parents. The kids seemed more interested in the surroundings, fidgeting with their clothes or glancing around the office, but the parents were the ones who seemed to be feeling the weight of the moment.

"You must be the Creed family?" Brennan asked, her voice laced with familiarity, like she’d been through this a hundred times before.

The mother nodded, giving Brennan a polite but anxious smile, while the father stood slightly behind her, his arms crossed as he surveyed the room. “I’m Adonis and this is my wife T’nya.” 

The kids—two siblings, a girl and a boy—hung back a little, still unsure of what to expect. The girl was clutching her backpack, looking around with wide eyes, while the boy stood with his hands in his pockets, trying to seem cool but clearly uncomfortable. “These are our kids. Amira and Kairo.”

“Hi guys.” Brennan smiles, gesturing to the snack bar by the door. “If it’s okay, you guys can help yourselves to some snacks.” 

Adonis nods. “Just one. We’re meeting grandma for lunch later.” 

“Before we begin.” Brennan redirects the parents attention while gesturing for them to sit down. “Melanin Prep is an African American school that caters to black youth from the ages of six weeks to fourteen.” 

“That was mentioned in the pamphlet.” Adonis glances back at his two kids giggling and snacking on bags of chips. “It was a no-brainer to apply.” He looks back at Brennan, eyes flickering from her face to the ring on her hand. “I’m just not understanding why we were on a waitlist for so long.”

Brennan nods, noticing the once over he was giving her. Bold–considering his wife was next to him. “Like I mentioned, Melanin Prep caters six weeks to the age of fourteen, but that is from start to finish. Amira will be going to fourth grade, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So that means she will be enrolled until eight grade. The same goes for Kairo who is starting first grade. He will be with us until he ages out at fourteen when it's time for him to start highschool.” Brennan explains. “That explains why you were on the waitlist for so long. Our eighth graders have transitioned to highschool and some spaces opened due to a few withdrawals.”

"We understand.” Tnya’s voice a little more guarded than Brennan had expected. "This is... this is our first time going through all this, so we just wanna make sure we understand everything."

Brennan nodded, sensing the nerves in the air. Parents always had a tendency to overthink things, especially when it came to enrolling their kids at a new school. She didn’t mind though; it came with the territory.

"No problem," she said smoothly, reaching toward the stack of files on her desk. The papers were neatly organized with everything from school handbooks to enrollment forms, attendance policies, and the school's code of conduct. She picked up the first file and opened it up with a small rustle, flipping through to the important sections.

"We’ll be going over everything you need to know," she continued, making sure to keep her tone reassuring. "The curriculum, the school’s values, and all the expectations we hold here at Melanin Prep. I know it can be a lot to take in, but I’ll be here to help guide you through it."

T’nya nodded again, though her nervousness hadn't quite eased. "I just want to make sure this is the right place for them. I mean, we’ve heard a lot of good things, but—"

"I get it," Brennan said, cutting her off gently but firmly. She gave a smile that was both warm and confident. "It’s a big step. And trust me, you’ll find that here at Melanin, we focus on not just academics, but on nurturing your kids as individuals. Our environment is designed to help them grow both inside and outside the classroom."

Adonis seemed to relax a bit, but still maintained that guarded stance. "I just want to make sure they’ll be challenged," he said, his voice lower, but not without a hint of concern. "This is a new environment for them. Will they be prepared for the next level?"

Brennan smiled, already knowing what he needed to hear. "Melanin Prep has a strong academic track record. Our curriculum is designed to push students to reach their full potential. Whether they’re excelling in the classroom, or thriving in extracurriculars, we make sure there’s a healthy balance."

“Their last school was rough, so we want to make sure the kids have a chance.”

"Your children will have the opportunity to grow at their own pace, but also be challenged to achieve things they might not think they could. That's what we’re all about here—supporting them as individuals."

They seemed to take in the words,  T’nya’s shoulders visibly relaxing. "That sounds good," she said, giving a softer smile. "I just want them to have a place where they feel like they belong."

Brennan’s smile softened, the understanding clear in her eyes. "That’s one of the most important things we do here. We focus on building community and fostering a sense of belonging, because we know that when kids feel at home, they excel."

The father gave a small nod, as though his concern had been eased. He looked at Brennan for a long moment, his arms now uncrossed, a hint of respect in his gaze. "Well, that sounds exactly like what we’ve been looking for."

Brennan was about to continue with the paperwork when she noticed the kids had started to move toward the desks, exploring the pens and other office supplies, quietly and with more curiosity now. She decided to shift the tone slightly, hoping to bring the focus back to the family as a whole. 

“Before we start. I will need a verbal answer and a written signature on if you guys will be enrolling your children here.” She pulls out a typed document, placing it in front of them.”

Adonis frowns, feeling like he was signing his kids' life away. “What for?” T'nya hits his arm with a nigga really look on her face. 

“What T’nya? She got us signing shit. I thought we were doing orientation.” 

“Mind your language in my office.” Brennan glances at him. “As I mention before our waitlist is extensive. Once your in there is no withdrawing and going to another school and then trying to come back. We have plenty of parents wanting to enroll their kids here.”

“Even if I supply a hefty donation?” Adonis looks at her.

“Adonis!”

Brennan shakes her head with a soft laugh. “Mr. Creed. We are Title 1 Division school, we get plenty of donations from the community and our youth’s parents. We do not take kindly to bribes. That is the quickest way to disqualify your children.” She looks at him. 

Then directs her full attention to T’nya “I understand the reservations, but you wouldn’t have wasted my time if you weren’t going to enroll them here.”

Brennan had her fair share of parents that thought they could pay their way in. She and Blaire had made sure when this school was opened they would keep their morals and integrity.  Taking bribes would feel like a cop out and a insult to everything they worked so hard to build. 

“I’m sorry.” T’nya apologizes. “We would love to enroll our kids here.” She forces the pen in his hand. While they signed the necessary paperwork, she glances at the kids move to the large fish tank she had, several beta fish swimming around eating the food she had put in there this morning. 

“My apologies, Ms. Anderson.” Adonis places a hand over his heart while staring her down. “I just want my kids to have the best opportunities.”

“I want nothing but the best for your children as well.” She places the document in a red scanner connected to her Mac computer. The papers scanning to the harddrive as she gathered several other documents for them to fill out. "Let’s go over some of the policies and guidelines while we wait for the paperwork to be processed," she suggested,. "But first, I’d love to hear a little more about your kids—what are they interested in? What are their strengths? I want to make sure we place them with the right teacher, and encourage extracurriculars.

The parents exchanged a quick glance, the initial nerves now giving way to pride. The father spoke first, his voice filled with a little more warmth than before. "Well, my daughter is really into music—she plays piano and sings. And my son," he looked toward the boy, who was now slouched comfortably in a chair, "he’s all about sports. Football, mostly."

Brennan’s eyes brightened as she jotted down a quick note. "That’s fantastic. We have some great programs here for both. I think they’ll fit right in."

She could tell that they were starting to feel more comfortable now, the worry beginning to lift as they got a better sense of the school’s atmosphere. 

As she went on to explain more about the school’s offerings, from advanced music classes to the athletic programs, Brennan felt the shift from tension to trust—a shift she had seen countless times before. It was moments like these that reminded her why she did what she did. Helping these families navigate this new chapter for their kids, making sure they had everything they needed to succeed—it was what made the job worth it. 

"Alright," Brennan said as she closed the last file, "that covers the basics. You’ve got the information you need, and I’ll make sure the rest of the paperwork gets processed quickly. How about a tour for your kids? They can see the classrooms and get a feel for the school before they start school tomorrow?."

The parents exchanged another glance, then looked back at her, the tension from before completely gone now. "That sounds perfect," the mother said, smiling now. "Thank you, Ms. Anderson."

Brennan stood up, offering them her hand. "It’s my pleasure. I’ll make sure we get them set up with everything they need. Welcome to Melanin Preparatory Academy."

a/n: I want to note that terry and blaire's relationship is very much man of the house/submissive wife type shit, BUT done in a more respectful way. as we explore their relationship it will become more clear but I just wanted to share that ahead of things to come. I just wanted a different type of dom/sub dynamic that was rooted in a nonsexual connection.

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Random Thoughts about Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (EP 7 - 8) :

I think the hardest part when you review a series is when you have to write something about the end. I usually avoid writing about the end of a series because I never really know where to start and how to finish it. I guess, it's also because it is usually hard for me to let go of a universe and characters I discovered and liked. I don't like saying goodbye. This series has been a very eventful ride. Do Hoe and Ju Yeong didn't have an easy life and they tried very hard to make it, but things weren't going as smoothly as it should be. I have to admit, after episode 5 and 6, I thought they would never make it. It seems so complicated for them to have a happy ending and I'm surprised, but happy by how they made it anyway. I said it before, but I really had difficulties to follow the story on the last two previous episodes. This feeling stayed during episode 7, but episode 8 was better and easier to follow. I guess, it's because we finally knew everything of what happened in the past and how it led the characters where they were in the present. It's a story about how violence and abuse can be so damaging on your life and impact a lot of your actions. It was a very sad story for the most part. It was deeply emotional for me and I felt very down after watching the episodes because I felt so much for the characters and I wished I could find a way for them to be happy. I was afraid the story would end badly, but I'm deeply grateful the story offered us a happy ending.

Like most viewers had guessed, Do Hoe lied and forged his diploma and when he tried to help his abused student, the mother of the child who went to the same school he was supposed to have graduated from, found out about the truth. Do Hoe had tried for a long time to make people forget about his past and to make them impressed by his success. He was very afraid of being like his father and failing to accomplish something. He was living an illusion because through this illusion he felt like he escaped his past. However, it didn't free him for the chains of the past. I think it wasn't that easy to live in this illusion anyway. How hurtful it must have been to keep failing the college entrance exams. We saw how Do Hoe pride himself about how he was doing his best to study. He wanted to graduate from this “Hasoul University” because it's the top university and graduating from this school would bring him the admiration of others. Do Hoe wanted to be more than the son of a violent father who failed. I don't think he ever really liked lying or pretending he really had this exams. That's why he kept hiding from Ju Yeong. The problem is that Do Hoe was suffering from transgenerational trauma. He was afraid of repeating the same patterns and attitudes of his father. His curse was this trauma he inherited from his father.

I think the story didn't really answer the questions about how to break the cycle of transgenerational trauma (it would have taken more than 8 episodes), but they made a good statement by the end of episode 7: to be able to move on, you need to heal from this first. I guess that's what happened when Do Hoe and Ju Yeong came back to the taekwondo school of Do Hoe's father and break or burn things from over there. It was the step to write down the beginning of their healing journey. From this point, they could start again. They learned to forgive themselves from whatever thoughts they had about being responsible. Do Hoe needed to have his redemption. Yes, people learned about his lies and his probation means he got another chance. It was truly amazing to see him get this new chance of becoming who he really wants to be without the burden of his past. I'm glad Ju Yeong was around him and encouraging him to grasp this new chance to the fullest. Being able to start anew and knowing you are loved can make you do many things. I think that's what Do Hoe feels. It was very cute and charming to see him and Ju Yeong being happy and enjoying this little domestic life together. They both deserve it. I'm just a little sad we didn't get to see them more in this happy place, but the story was not only about their love, but more about how to break the trauma from the previous generation. The love story was just the cherry on top.

In some way, I'm pretty impressed by Ju Yeong's resilience. He also ha a very complicated life and the way he dealt with his own trauma was pretty different from Do Hoe. He wasn't loved that much by his family, he also was abused and beaten by Do Hoe's father and in the end he tried hard finding Do Hoe and being with him. I sometimes feel the story didn't give him enough time to show his own response and healing from this past. I guess, it's because it's so linked to Do Hoe's own trauma that if one of them start to be free from it, the other one would follow too. Ju Yeong's love for Do Hoe is truly something endearing to watch. Around him, Do Hoe is able to be happy and to express himself more. He was always someone quite reserved, but when Do Hoe is with Ju Yeong, he cries, laugh, and stop holding himself. It was always Ju Yeong for Do Hoe. He admitted it himself, if he had been successful, he would have tried to find Ju Yeong. However, before he wasn't happy or successful the way he wanted so he kept avoiding him (at least until his dad's death). It was pointless because Ju Yeong doesn't care about this. He cares about Do Hoe being well and he wants to help him achieve his dreams. That's what matters to Ju Yeong. I really liked this character. Ju Yeong's healing journey started when he met Do Hoe's again. It was his own way of rebound from adversity as a strengthened and more resourceful person. When they were separated, he was just this guy who cried when seeing the snow, but after he was the one who helped Do Hoe stop his “curse”.

I also want to add something about Hyeon Ho. Again, I feel like the story didn't give us enough things about him. We know he used to bully Do Hoe and as the viewers we guess that it's because he rejected, at first, his attraction to him. Then, for 10 years he stayed around Do Hoe and he tried to be more than a friend to him, unsuccessfully. He knew about the truth of the falsification of his certification and he tried to help him. He didn't do well all the time, and it's easy to not like him for his past behavior towards Do Hoe. I think he regretted his actions. I felt bad for him because I feel he truly loved Do Hoe, but he was unable to understand him and to get past the mask he was wearing. Hyeon Ho never got to see parts of Do Hoe, even if he stayed around him for such a long time. It must hurt, especially if you have feelings for someone. I wish we saw him get to have someone to care for him in the end. We just have to hope after this phone call with Do Hoe that he tried to find his own happiness with someone else. He did try caring for Do Hoe. It didn't help him break from his trauma, but he was there nonetheless. It's true that Do Hoe never gave him his tears or his laugh. He was always so reserved around him, even after all these years. I think the last episode really made me see Heyon Ho in a different way. It was interesting.

In this end what did I think about "Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo"? It was a compelling story, sometimes confusing and I wish they had more time to really answer the few questions I had or the scenes I wanted to see. This story was really more about resilience, freeing someone from trauma than it was a love story. It's not a bad thing, but it wasn't exactly what I thought it would be. I think it's a must-watch and I will never watch it again. It's the type of story, I can only watch once. The happy ending is pleasant and I'm glad the main characters got it. I really wanted them to have one. I would not say it will be part of my favorite series I watched this year because it wasn't easy to watch. Korean BL usually have a bittersweet taste for me and it's not really the taste I'm looking for. I liked all the reviews I read about them and it was nice to talk about it with some of you here.

Thanks again for reading my own review. It was a great ride with all of you too.