#what he really wanted was a relationship with another boy

[eclipixels]

Casual

Characters: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage

Content: "Casual relationship with the boys but it’s just you getting ahead of yourself and planning to talk to them about getting serious until you saw a headline about 'your' man going official with another lady." - @captainshindo

Isagi

      You weren’t the jealous type. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

      Isagi Yoichi was never officially yours, not in the way that mattered. Sure, he kissed you like you were the only person in the world, pulled you into his arms like he had no intention of letting go, and whispered things at night that made your stomach flip. But there had never been a label.

      It was fine. You were fine. Until you saw the headline.

      "Blue Lock’s Rising Star Isagi Yoichi Goes Official With Mystery Beauty!"

      Your stomach dropped. The article featured blurry paparazzi shots of him with some woman—her face obscured, but her hand was clearly clutching his wrist. You read every line, dissecting every word like it held the key to your survival of your heart. The journalist speculated, fans freaked out, and suddenly, it felt like the whole world was deciding where Isagi’s heart belonged.

      Except, no one had asked you.

      You slammed your phone down, anger bubbling up, not just at him but at yourself. You had been ready, so ready, to have the talk, to define what this thing between you really was. But now? What was the point?

      When Isagi came home later, he immediately noticed something was off.

      "You’re mad at me."

      "Really?” You scoffed.

      "Yeah, you are." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Is this about the article? I have no idea who that woman even was, I’m pretty sure it was a fan."

      Your eyes snapped to him. He looked guilty. Good.

      "Why would I care?" you asked, voice tight. "We’re not dating, right? I mean, not really. So why should I care?"

      His heart cracked when you said that. Did this mean nothing to you? Truth be told, he was planning to talk to you soon about your relationship. He wanted to be yours officially, now he feels dumb for not doing it sooner. Because now, his baby’s heart was broken and he didn’t know how to fix it.

      "Come on, you know that’s not—"

      "Not what? Not true?"

      And it wasn’t like he could just announce to the world that he was taken. Right? But still, he could’ve done something. At least that's what you told yourself.

      Isagi sat in bed that night, phone in hand, searching for ways to subtly (or not-so-subtly) let people know he was taken.

      What he found was… questionable.

      “Give her your hoodie, post her on your story, make it obvious.”

      Okay. Normal enough. What else, though? He wanted to do something more than that.

      “Hickeys are the ultimate mark of possession.”

      His face burned. He thought about it for half a second, then realized they were temporary. That wasn’t enough.

      And then he saw it.

      A tattoo. Permanent. Undeniable. Forever.

      It was impulsive, but so was he.

      Isagi came home, a slight wince on his face as he rolled his shoulder as he began experiencing the weak symptoms of a tattoo flu.

      "Hey."

      You barely looked up from your phone.

      He hovered for a second, then sighed dramatically. "You’re still mad."

      Silence.

      "Okay, well, can you at least look at me?"

      With an exaggerated eye-roll, you glanced up and immediately did a double take.

      "What the hell is that?" you asked, pointing at the fresh ink on the side of his neck.

      Bold, black letters. Your name. Right there for the world to see.

      "A tattoo," he said casually, like he hadn’t just done the most insane thing in history.

      Your mouth opened. Then closed. "No, yeah, I can see that. Why?"

      Isagi scratched the back of his head, suddenly sheepish. "Well, I wanted people to know I’m taken."

      "That’s the way you went about it?"

      "Yeah, but this way, they can’t argue about it." He grinned, a little too pleased with himself.

      “Check my socials” He said with a smug expression. You gave him a puzzled but cautious look as you slowly opened your social media.

      He posted you. Not just that, he put your name in his bio with a heart emoji.

      You blinked. Slowly.

      "You’re insane."

      "Maybe." He stepped closer, tilting his head with a smirk. "But now you can’t say I’m not serious."

      “That is a good picture of us,” You hummed, squealing on the inside at the gesture. He really did that.

      “Match bios with me before it looks like I’m embarrassing myself.” He said sternly and you laughed, your eyes falling past from his lips to the fresh tattoo on his neck.

      “That’s permanent”

      “So is this,” He smiled slyly, pulling you in for a kiss.

      Damn him. Damn him and his stupid, reckless, insanely hot commitment.

      You exhaled, shaking your head. "You’re lucky I love you, Isagi Yoichi."

      That was the first time you said those words to him. I love you.

      "I know. I love you too.” He grinned. Yeah, and so does the whole world know now too.

Bachira

      You weren’t the type to rush into things.

      Or at least, that’s what you told yourself when you first started seeing Bachira Meguru. It had been casual, fun, and effortless. The kind of relationship where dates blurred into late-night calls, where teasing turned into lingering touches, and where stolen kisses didn’t come with strings attached. You liked him. A lot. Maybe too much.

      That was the problem.

      You told yourself it was just fun. That the way he’d tug you close after a match, sweat still dripping from his bangs, meant nothing. The way he sent you voice notes about the most random things, like how the vending machine near his training center always stole his coins. It wasn’t anything special.

      But you wanted more. And after weeks of convincing yourself it wasn’t just one-sided, you’d decided it was time to have the conversation. The ‘what are we?’ talk. The ‘I think I want to be with you officially’ talk.

      You had it all planned out. You’d meet him after practice, maybe go for a walk, maybe grab something to eat. You’d be subtle about it, ease into it the way you always did with him. No pressure. No big declarations.

      Then, fate decided to punch you in the gut.

      Your phone screen lit up with a notification, the kind you usually ignored. But the name caught your eye. Bachira Meguru.

      It wasn’t a text. It wasn’t even a message from him. It was a headline. A big, bold, soul-crushing headline plastered across a sports gossip site.

      “Blue Lock Star Bachira Meguru Goes Official with Rising Model Hana Yoshida!”

      The article was filled with pictures, ones you’d never seen before. Bachira with his arm draped over her shoulders, grinning like he had no worries in the world. Her hand playfully on his chest. Them standing too close, their body language screaming intimacy.

      You stared at your phone, the weight of your own naivety sinking in.

      Had he ever mentioned her? No.

      Had he ever given you any reason to believe it was just you? Also no.

      You had assumed. And that was your mistake.

      The realization was sobering. The night before, he had sent you a voice note about his latest match, his usual excited rambling filling your ears. It felt normal. Easy. Safe. But now, the words rang hollow in your memory, like they belonged to a different story altogether.

      You inhaled sharply and forced a laugh, the sound bitter in your own ears.

      Wasn’t this a blessing in disguise? If you had spoken to him any sooner, you would’ve made a fool of yourself.

      Dodged a bullet. Saved yourself from embarrassment.

      You locked your phone and tossed it onto the couch, letting out a long breath. Maybe it was time to let go of the idea of ‘what could’ve been’ and accept what was staring you in the face.

      Bachira Meguru was never yours to begin with.

      You had ignored his calls. His texts. His voice notes. Bachira was starting to panic. Had he done something wrong? Had he messed up what you two had, without even realizing it?

      The overwhelming feelings he had for you were impossible to express, no matter how hard he tried. He never quite knew the right words, but he knew this. He couldn’t lose you. After years of isolation, of feeling like no one truly understood him, you had come into his life. You got him. And now, the thought of that slipping away, of you slipping away, was unbearable.

      So, in the dead of night, with anxiety clawing at his chest, Bachira showed up at your door. A bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand, a bag of your favorite snacks in the other, and an apology for whatever the hell it was he had done to make you pull away. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for, but he knew he couldn’t stand this silence between you two any longer.

      When he stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, the words he blurted out took you by surprise, and all the anger you had been holding onto melted away in an instant.

      “Are you breaking up with me or something? What did I do?”

      You blinked, taken aback. “Meguru, you really don’t know? You didn’t see the articles and— wait, you thought we’re together?”

      “Well, yeah," he said, frowning, his eyes wide with confusion. "I’m your boyfriend, right? Or did… Oh no, did I assume wrong?” He looked at you in a mix of worry and uncertainty, and something in your chest tightened. He looked so lost, so vulnerable, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

      “No, no, it’s not that,” you said quickly, trying to explain. “I just saw you with that model, and I thought—”

      “It was for a commercial for Chris Prince’s brand,” he interrupted, his expression softening slightly. “Wait… people are thinking it’s more than that?”

      “The article says it’s official,” you said, biting your lip, unsure how to explain the confusion that had swept over you.

      He froze, processing what you said, then his face shifted to a mix of disbelief and determination. “The hell? No, no way. I’m fixing that. But first,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours, “I need to fix this.” The cool night air swirled around him, his features glowing in the soft light, giving him an almost ethereal quality.

      You blinked, momentarily speechless.

      He stepped closer, leaning in as he looked into your eyes with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. “We are together. Yes?”

      You felt your heart race. “Okay,” you answered, the tension in your body easing with the words.

      Without another word, Bachira leaned in and kissed you. Soft, sweet, but with a warmth that melted away any remaining uncertainty. When he pulled back, he glanced up at you with a shy grin.

      “Good. Can I, uh, come in?”

      You blinked again stunned from the kiss before quickly stepping aside. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, come in!”

Chigiri

      Chigiri was great—amazing, even. Every moment spent with him was effortless. The two of you didn’t define things; it was simple. Casual. Late night skin care dates, movies, shopping, boba. No pressure, no expectations. Or so you thought. But somewhere between laughing over late-night games and the quiet mornings at his apartment, you’d started to wish for more. You didn’t just want him in your life—you wanted him. And not just as a casual companion, but as someone who would be there in the long run. So, you had decided to talk to him about taking things a step further.

      You reread your draft one more time.

      “Hey, Hyoma. I know we’ve been having a lot of fun, but... I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I think I’m ready for something more serious. What do you think?”

      You bit your lip, ready to send it, but then the familiar buzz of a notification caught your attention. A headline. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

      “Hyoma Chigiri Goes Official with Miku Takeda”

      Your breath caught. The picture accompanying the article was of Chigiri, smiling brightly beside a woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a radiant expression. She looked happy. And he was happy, too. You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the wave of disappointment, but it was too much. The words blurred before your eyes as a dull ache settled deep in your chest.

      You blinked rapidly, trying to piece everything together. You two hadn’t exactly made anything official, sure, but... hadn’t the connection felt special? You had been special, hadn’t you? There had been nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, mornings where you stayed in bed a little too long, stealing kisses between sleepy grins.

      A dark thought crept in, taunting you, Was he even serious about me?

      Without thinking, you grabbed your things, leaving the coffee shop in a daze. The cold wind bit at your skin, but you barely noticed. You didn’t know what you were feeling anymore. You had imagined a future with him, and now it was slipping through your fingers like sand.

      The next day, the confusion still gnawed at you. It was hard to focus on anything other than the image of Chigiri standing next to someone else. The woman was probably sweet, charming, someone who could give him everything you could never offer. Was that why he hadn’t wanted to make things official? You were a fool to have expected more.

      You were lost in your thoughts when your phone buzzed again. A text from him.

      “Hey, can I see you later?”

      Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, reading it over and over. He wanted to see you? What could he possibly want to talk about?

      It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your apartment door. You hesitated for a moment before opening it, only to find Chigiri standing there, his usual calm expression now tinged with uncertainty. His eyes softened when he saw you.

      “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice gentle.

      “I can't,” you replied, trying to sound neutral, but your voice wavered.

      “Why?”

      “I have to um, walk my pet fish.” You gave a poor excuse.

      “Princess, you don’t have a fish.” He bluntly said, giving you a pointed look. Your heart fluttered at the nickname. Why was he here? Why was he calling you that? Why was he playing with you like this? You defeatedly let him in, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling on you. There was an awkward silence between you two. He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure of where to start.

      “You saw the article, didn’t you” he said finally, his tone a little more serious.

      You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “I did. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”

      “I am,” He said defensively and you gave him a confused look. Was he here to break your heart all over again?

      “If that's all you came here to say then—”

      “You.” He interrupted you. “It’s you. I’m serious about you.”

      “What?”

      “It’s not what you think,” he replied quickly, his voice tense. “That woman in the photo, she was just a fan who asked to take a picture. Nothing more. I don’t know how that rumor even got started.”

      You bit your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through you. Of course, you hadn’t asked him about her. You’d just jumped to conclusions, letting insecurity take hold of you.

      “Oh.” you murmured, guilt creeping into your voice.

      Chigiri ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated with himself. “No, this is my fault. I should’ve made it clear our relationship so you’d never have to feel this way.” His eyes softened as he stepped closer to you. “But what I’m saying is, I’ve only been focused on you.”

      Your heart skipped in your chest, and you met his gaze at last. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes.

      “Yeah, um, me too.” You awkwardly answered, suddenly feeling small under his gaze.

      “Can I be your boyfriend? Officially?”

      “Yes.”

Rin

      You had always known that Rin Itoshi wasn’t the type for deep emotions. His cool demeanor, sharp gaze, and the way he carried himself on and off the field. it all screamed that he was in control, always. And when you found yourself in a casual relationship with him, it was easy to slip into that mindset.

      For weeks, it had been nothing more than stolen moments. Quiet, private conversations after practice, a few casual dinners here and there, and the occasional late-night texts. You were often there for him during his more emotional problems. You knew Rin wasn’t big on showing affection, and in return, you respected his boundaries. But in the back of your mind, you started to wonder if there was something more. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t help it. Every time he looked at you, there was a flicker of something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to share.

      You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. You were enjoying the moments you shared with him, and that was enough, right? But as the days went by, something inside you told you that you wanted more. You had no idea how he would respond, but the thought of asking had you nervous.

      You planned it all out. You’d wait for the perfect moment, maybe after one of his matches when his energy was high, and then you’d talk. Just the two of you, no distractions. You’d explain how you felt.You hoped he wouldn’t brush you off, maybe, just maybe, he’d feel the same way.

      But of course, life had a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expected them.

      It all started on a random afternoon when you were scrolling through your phone. You were at home, taking a much-needed break from work and from your thoughts of Rin. The screen flickered to a news headline that made your stomach drop.

      "Rin Itoshi Goes Public with New Girlfriend—Is the Blue Lock Star Finally Settling Down?"

      Your eyes went wide, and your heart skipped a beat. There, on your screen, was a picture of Rin and a woman, someone you had never seen before.

      It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. Your mind raced as you scrolled through the article, each sentence tightening the knot in your stomach.

      Was this it? Had you been just a casual fling for him all along? Was this the end of whatever bond you thought you had? The thought of Rin moving on with someone else. Someone so glamorous and perfect for him, of course. It lleft you feeling small and foolish. You had been planning to have that conversation, and now, it felt like everything was too late.

      With trembling fingers, you dropped your phone on the couch and buried your face in your hands. It was the ultimate slap to your pride, the crushing reality that your feelings were never going to be returned the way you had hoped.

      What had you been thinking? You had let yourself get carried away, fantasizing about something more than what was real. You had never asked him where you stood, and now it was too late to fix it. You laughed bitterly at yourself, feeling the sting of embarrassment.

      The next day, you avoided Rin. You weren’t ready to confront him, not yet—not with the painful sting of the news still so fresh in your mind. It hurt more than you expected, this grief, and you needed space to think. You decided to take a walk, but somehow, your feet led you to the one place you always went when you were hurt—a quiet pond tucked away near the park.

      You hadn’t expected to find him there.

      As soon as you spotted him, your breath caught in your throat. You froze, a sharp pang of discomfort settling in your chest. You considered turning and walking away before he noticed you, but it was too late. He saw you.

      "Y/n..." Rin's voice broke through the silence, and there was something in his tone that made you pause. Relief. You didn’t know how to explain it, but it was unmistakable.

      You took a step back, instinctively wanting to retreat, but he caught it. Panic flashed in his eyes, and the urgency in his voice grew. “Don’t go.”

      You stood still, unsure of what to say or do, as he closed the distance between you. The cool air felt heavier with the weight of the moment. Rin’s usual composure was gone. He looked almost vulnerable as he started to speak again.

      “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it before. “The woman in that article... I’ve known her for a while, but we’re not dating. It was just a misunderstanding.”

      You blinked, your mind racing to process his words. "Oh... okay."

      You didn’t know how to respond. The silence stretched between you, thick with all the things unsaid. Now didn’t feel like the right time to voice your feelings, not with everything still so raw.

      Rin seemed to sense your hesitation, though. He took a deep breath, his gaze steady but intense. "I think... we should be together."

      Your heart skipped, confused by the sudden shift. "What?"

      “I don’t like the thought of us not being together,” he continued, his voice firm yet vulnerable. He was a mess. His emotions were all over the place. He was so scared of messing this up with you. “So, will you...?”

      You blinked again, unsure if you heard him correctly. “You’re asking me to be your girlfriend?”

      His expression softened, the edges of his usual coldness melting away. “I am.”

      You hesitated, the doubts swirling in your mind. "I don’t want to get hurt."

      Rin stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that took you by surprise. “I promise, I won’t do that to you.”

      You took a shaky breath, the tension in your chest easing slightly. "Okay."

      As soon as you responded, he shocked you with a chaste kiss, his face heating up immedietly afterwards.

Nagi

      It had been an unusually calm week for you and Seishiro Nagi. Despite the usual chaos that surrounded him, whether it was from Blue Lock’s relentless competition or his fanbase constantly buzzing about his status, you and Nagi had settled into a nice routine. There was no commitment, no promises. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s company in a casual, laid-back way. He’d show up at yours some nights, you'd binge-watch youtube or play video games, and the occasional kiss was exchanged, but it was never anything too serious.

      It was comfortable. Simple. And deep down, you felt like it was enough for you.

      But lately? Lately, something has shifted. Maybe it was the way his hands lingered just a bit longer when they brushed yours, or the way his smile made your heart beat faster than it ever had before. He didn’t say it, but you could feel something brewing underneath the surface. You wondered if maybe, just maybe, it was time to talk to him about what this was, what you two were.

      You stood in front of your mirror one morning, nervously adjusting your hair. The moment had to be right. You’d already rehearsed what you were going to say. “Seishiro, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could try something more serious?” The words sounded perfect in your mind, a perfect reflection of your growing feelings. No turning back now.

      However, fate had other plans.

      While scrolling through your phone that afternoon, you stumbled upon an article. The headline hit you like a ton of bricks:

      "Seishiro Nagi Officially Goes Public with New Girlfriend!"

      Your heart stopped. You felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Your hands trembled as you read the article further. There was Nagi, smiling in a photo with some unknown woman. The words “new girlfriend” loomed over the image like a cruel reminder that whatever you and Nagi had shared, whatever you had hoped for, wasn’t real.

      You had been overthinking things. This was just a casual thing to him, wasn’t it? You’d misread everything.

      Suddenly, the message you had planned to send him felt ridiculous. Why bother talking about getting serious when clearly, he was already with someone else?

      At that moment, the emotional whiplash was too much. You needed space. You couldn’t face him. You locked your phone screen and pushed all thoughts of the conversation aside.

      For the rest of the day, you tried to distract yourself. You threw yourself into your work, watched mindless videos, but it was all in vain. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw that headline. Your Nagi, someone you had been secretly falling for, was with someone else.

      Meanwhile, Nagi had no clue that his whole world had just fallen apart.

      He was sleeping soundly, sprawled out in his bed, his phone discarded on the nightstand.

      The evening sunset pierced through his window as he blinked his eyes open, groggy but still content. He missed you, he wonderd if you were busy. A small smile tugged at his lips as he sent you a message. You always knew how to cheer him up after a long day.

      But there was no reply.

      Weird.

      Nagi tilted his head, frowning as he locked his phone and stretched his arms above his head. He figured you were just busy or had fallen asleep early. Still, he felt a little disappointed. You two hadn’t played together in a while.

      He got out of bed, grabbing a quick snack before going back to his room to play a few rounds of valorant on his pc. Yet, something gnawed at him, something felt off. He decided to call you.

      But you didn’t pick up.

      Weird.

      He tried again. Still, no response.

      Now, Nagi was starting to get that feeling in his gut. It wasn’t like you to ignore him like this. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone buzzed again.

      This time, it was an article. The same one from earlier, only now it was everywhere. Nagi’s eyes widened as he saw the headline about him and the new “girlfriend.” He froze.

      What the hell was going on?

      His first instinct was to brush it off as some stupid gossip, but his feelings quickly turned into panic as he realized you must’ve seen the article.

      You were sitting on your couch, trying to make sense of everything, when you heard a knock at your door.

      Your heart skipped a beat. Part of you wanted to believe it was him, but the other half knew that was unrealistic. Even if he was here, you didn’t want to face him. Not like this. You didn’t want to explain the mess in your mind, the whirlwind of emotions, and the jealousy that had sprung up when you saw that article.

      You opened the door and there he was. Nagi.

      And before you could say anything, he kissed you—firmly, his lips pressing against yours in a way that made your mind go blank. His hand cupped your cheek, and when he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours, a mix of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. He hoped you could feel all of his love for you through it.

      “You’re mine. Not anyone else,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “That news article? Fake. All of it.”

      You blinked, completely shocked. “What… what do you mean?”

      Nagi sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what was going on until just now. I didn’t even realize you saw it. But I wasn’t with her. I was never with her. It’s all some stupid misunderstanding.”

      You could hardly process his words. Your heart pounded in your chest, and suddenly the flood of emotions that had built up came rushing in. But before you could speak, Nagi kissed you again before pouting.

      “Now that we’ve cleared that, can we play Overwatch?”

      It was absurd. You were still trying to digest the fact that he’d kissed you that passionately and now he was asking to game? Your face was still red from the gesture.

      “...Okay,” you finally muttered, still a little dazed.

      “Good, I’ve missed playing with my girlfriend.” He smiled, ruffling your hair as he walked past you to get to your room. You almost choked. You’ve been his girlfriend? Since when?

Reo

      You had always known your relationship with Reo Mikage wasn’t exactly typical, but that never stopped you from dreaming. Reo had a way of making everything feel effortless. He was charming, with an enigmatic allure that seemed to make everyone gravitate toward him. And yet, he always found a way to make you feel special. Whether it was through a text, spoiling you with gifts, late night walks, a shared glance during class, or a quiet dinner date at one of the many upscale restaurants his family frequented, Reo knew how to make you feel like you were the only one in his world.

      You weren't from the same social circle as Reo, and that difference stung every time you allowed yourself to think about it. Reo was the heir to a vast fortune, a golden boy in the world of soccer, destined for greatness. His family’s wealth and influence were legendary. Meanwhile, you were just another girl trying to make it through school, scraping together money for lunch while juggling part-time jobs. You didn’t feel like you belonged in his world, even if Reo never seemed to care about that. He had a way of looking past the things that defined people’s worth in the eyes of the world. But the reality of your difference in status was something you couldn’t fully ignore.

      It wasn’t as if Reo was outwardly dismissive about your life or background. No, Reo was sweet, considerate, and—frustratingly—always seemed like he genuinely enjoyed your company. But lately, you were starting to wonder if you had been kidding yourself. Maybe you were just another fleeting thing in his life, a distraction before he inevitably moved on to someone more suited for him. Someone from a wealthier, more established family. Someone who could fit seamlessly into his world.

      That was why, after months of casually seeing each other, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed one evening, staring at your phone screen and rehearsing what you were going to say to him. You’d been thinking about it for weeks now. Maybe it was time to have the conversation, to ask him where you stood and if there could be something more between you. You had convinced yourself that it was the right time. Reo was always warm toward you, his touches tender and his words soft. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move.

      But then, as you scrolled through your social media feed while absently flipping through notes for your upcoming exam, you saw it.

      The headline nearly knocked the breath out of you: "Reo Mikage Goes Official with Korean Chaebol Heiress, Seung Hae."

      Your heart dropped into your stomach as your finger hovered over the screen. Was this some kind of joke? You blinked twice, then read the article again. It showed pictures of Reo with a beautiful, tall woman at a high-profile event. Her arms draped around his, smiles exchanged, the kind of chemistry you never seemed to get from him.

      The worst part? The woman was breathtaking, with long black hair, flawless skin, and a designer outfit that screamed money. Her family was a significant part of the Chaebol world in Korea, and she fit perfectly into the realm of Reo’s lifestyle. Someone his family would approve of.

      A strange mix of anger, sadness, and embarrassment bubbled up inside you. You could feel your face flush with humiliation. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about the possibility of Reo seeing someone else, but this felt different. It felt real.

      Reo had been so kind to you, so sweet, that you thought maybe you were building something together. But now it all felt like a lie. You had been foolish to think he could ever be serious about someone like you. Maybe this was his way of showing you that your relationship could never be more than a fleeting thing.

      I guess I was just a phase, you thought bitterly.

      The next day, you avoided Reo. It wasn’t easy, especially since he always found ways to pick you up after school or find a day to hang out but you kept your distance. Whenever he texted you, asking if you could meet, you came up with a vague excuse about needing to study or work. Every time your phone buzzed with his name, you winced.

      But despite all your avoidance, Reo never seemed to give up. His persistence only fueled the fire of your insecurities. What could he possibly want from you now?

      Then came the day he appeared at your school’s courtyard, standing by a bench, watching you from afar. His expression wasn’t one of frustration or confusion; it was one of pure determination. It was oddly nostalgic back from when he used to go to school here.

      “Y/n, we need to talk,” he called out.

      You froze, clutching your bag tighter as you forced a tight smile. “There’s nothing to talk about, Reo.”

      “Don’t give me that,” he said, closing the distance between you. “You’re avoiding me, and it’s clear something’s wrong.”

      Your breath hitched. You could feel the tears starting to prickle at your eyes as the weight of it all hit you.

      “I saw the article,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw the pictures of you and her.”

      Reo’s face paled for a second before his usual calm demeanor returned. He raised a hand, gently cupping your face. “Love,” he began, his voice steady. “She’s just a family friend.”

      Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up at him, uncertain. “Then why was she wrapped around you like that? You and her, together like that... it didn’t look like business.”

      “She was posed up like that with several other sons of prestigious families there. I promise you, you’re my only one.”

      You swallowed, the tightness in your throat easing slightly. “But I’m not... I’m not like you. You have your world, Reo, and I’m just... me. It’s not the same.”

      Reo stepped even closer, his eyes soft and focused on you. “You are my world, and that is more than enough for me. Don’t ever think it isn’t.”

      The sincerity in his voice hit you like a wave, and suddenly the weight you had carried for so long felt like it was lifting.

      “I’m sorry I didn’t explain it sooner,” Reo said, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “I should’ve told you about the event but I didn’t know the press would spin a story like this.”

      “Oh”

      Reo chuckled softly, his hands still gently holding your face. “I hope you know that you’re it for me, Y/n.”

      Your heart fluttered in your chest. This was real. In that moment, all your insecurities seemed to vanish. Maybe you didn’t come from the same world as Reo, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t share a future with him.

      “Does that mean we’re together?” You asked.

      “My heart was yours since the day we met.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

[gracieheartspedro]

Cherry Stems

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

description: eddie rejects your advances because his friends are around. so you use them to your advantage. piss eddie off and maybe you'll get what you want. maybe.

warnings: MDNI! 18+ only pls, age not specified but i imagine eddie/reader are 20+, porn without much plot, major teasing, reader is a brat, mentions of eating food, reader has no food aversions, nicknames, reader is flirting with eddie's bandmates, jealousy, possessiveness, name calling, face grabbing, eddie is lowkey a dom, unprotected p in v, fingering (vaginal), oral fixation, eddie puts his fingers in your mouth a lot, reader gets off on being bullied, orgasm denial, cum play, cum eating.... think that's it.

author’s note: hi i wrote this in one night. i am a whore for eddie, what else can i say. i'm also down to take requests, so if you see this, hey, send me an ask. maybe i'll cave and do some. as always, thanks bestie girl @amanitacowboy for helping me with this. let's never forget how much of a whore we are for this man. it keeps me (in)sane <3

Eddie had been teasing you all night and it was really starting to get to you. 

After a pretty electric performance at The Hideout, Eddie and his friends decided that they were hungry for some burgers from the empty Shiny Diner nearby. You had already had enough of Eddie’s shit at this point, so as soon as you sat next to him in the big half moon shaped booth, you knew it was game on. 

From eyeing you while he sang filthy lyrics from the stage, to the way he was working his hand up the hem of your dress when you sat at the bar, Eddie was truly being a menace. When the band got loud in the car on the way to the diner, you decided to make your move. You had rested your hand on Eddie’s crotch while sitting in the bucket seat next to him. While Eddie loved giving a good show, he was not keen on letting his friends see you in such a way. So he brushed your hand away and gave you the ‘not now’ eyes. 

You were for him and him only.

It aggravated you to no end, watching him rejoin the conversation with the guys, while you crossed your arms in disappointment.

But you were going to push some buttons tonight. You were going to get him back.

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were all very sweet boys. Each of them have never been nothing but respectful of you. Gareth had known you longer than Eddie and he was actually the one who introduced you two. Jeff was usually a know-it-all, but he never dared question anything you said. And Grant… he was just quiet. Always following along with the antics and very well mannered. 

While you respected all the boys back, you also knew they found you attractive and that you could take advantage of that. After one specific smoke session together a couple months back, Eddie asked them all if they had a crush on you. He only ever said things like that to make them squirm. Teasing each other was the way they showed their love for one another. He also liked to remind people that they never stood a chance with you. And they all said that of course they found you pretty, but they would not dare go after you. 

Well, for one night only, you would give them believe they had a chance. Just to piss off Eddie. 

You had done this before. A year into your relationship, you had unintentionally made him jealous and it led to the most mind blowing sex of your life. The sex was so memorable that you do not even remember how you made him jealous. 

You needed that just about now. 

You were the only group there along with the waitress and line cook, so you were not worried about making a scene. You game plan how you were going to achieve such a feat as you scan the diner menu. You already knew what you wanted, but spotting the milkshakes on the list of drinks, a light bulb went off in your brain. 

The older waitress took down the boy’s order while you sat quietly staring at the menu. When it came down to you, you look up at the white haired woman and smiled. 

“One chocolate shake, extra whip cream and cherries, please.” You hand her the menu and glance over at a confused Eddie. You usually got a Dr. Pepper and a cheeseburger value meal, hold the lettuce. 

“Not hungry, baby?” He asks, reaching out for your black painted nails. You slide your hand away, acting like you are reaching for something in your purse. 

“Just wanna try something new.”

You pull your lipgloss out, still not looking over at Eddie. You twist off the top, placing the applicator on the middle of your bottom lip as your eyes flicker over to Grant’s. He is not paying much mind to anything, his eyes looking towards the window behind you. When he takes note of your gaze, he finally looks at you. 

You swipe the gloss across your lips, smirking devilishly. 

“What did you get, Grant?”

He thinks for a beat, realizing even he forgot what he ordered. “Uh… BLT with onion rings.”

You smack your lips together, rubbing your top lip on the bottom one painfully slow. 

“You gonna share your onion rings?”

He was not expecting the question, his lips curling upward before he chuckles. You can feel Eddie’s body stiffen as you ask the question. 

Grant nods, though, “Of course. You can have some-” “Baby, you’re not gonna eat his food.” You shoot a glare at Eddie, tossing your gloss back in your pocketbook. “Grant said I could, so… yeah I am.”

Eddie’s eyes search yours, trying to figure out what you are trying to do. You disguise your pleasure at his curiosity, rolling your eyes and pointing your attention at Jeff. He’s positioned right next to Grant, fiddling with his fingers. Before you can press him with a question, the waitress comes and puts down your drinks. She’s missing your milkshake. 

“That’ll be out in just a moment,” She says, grabbing her tray as she returns behind the counter, seemingly preparing your shake. You watch Jeff fiddle with his straw wrapper and you finally decide to bother him next. 

“Is that Dr. Pepper?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Jeff always got Dr. Pepper, just like you. It’s something you two bonded over often. He just nods, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage. You look over at the waitress quickly, seeing she’s still fiddling with the milkshake blender. 

You grab Jeff’s ice cold glass, your eyes glistening with innocence, “You mind if I have a sip? I’m parched.” And of course he’s too confused to say no. You pull the drink over and once it crosses to your side of the table, Eddie’s hand presses into your bare thigh. You do not react, taking Jeff’s straw into your mouth and sucking in a big sip, your eyes never leaving his. Once you pull the plastic away, you smirk. 

“Thanks, hun.” You push the drink back to him slowly. His cheeks heat up instantly when he notices your lipgloss on the tip of the straw. Eddie’s hand only squeezes more, trying to get you to look over at him. 

He wanted your attention so bad, his body curving closer to you. You can feel his gaze stuck onto the side of your face. 

Before anyone says anything else, the white haired lady returns with your chocolate shake. You giddedly grab the glass and stuff a straw into the frozen drink. 

You use your tongue to toy with the end of the straw, pulling it into your open mouth. Your eyes flicker away from Jeff and take aim at Gareth, who’s seated right across from you. Since he’s known you so long, you can already read on his face that he knows what you are up to. He may be a nice guy, but he too loves to fuck with Eddie. 

He was going to help you in whatever way possible. Instead of you initiating conversation, he speaks up. 

“Chocolate, huh? Thought you’d like vanilla.” Your eyebrow quirks up. You know Eddie’s face is bright red next to you. The heat radiating from him is pressing into your shoulder and thigh. 

“You got me pegged as a vanilla girl? That’s a bit offensive, Gare,” You smile, calculating your next move. You look down at the pile of whipped cream on the top of the shake. You drag your pointer finger across the top, gathering the cream all around it. 

You hear Eddie whispering beside you. “You better fuckin’ not.”

You smile, bringing your finger to your lips, not peeling your eyes from Gareth. You know the tension is palpable because Gareth’s smile is only widening when you lick the cream off your finger. 

The other guys are gawking at you at this point. You were putting on a show and they could not even fathom that it was happening before their very eyes. 

Gareth finally says something, nodding at the milkshake. “And extra cherries?”

“Gareth-,” Eddie’s voice fades over yours. 

“Oh yeah! You know I can tie the stems with my tongue?”

Eddie’s rings are going to be imprinted on your leg with how tightly he’s gripping onto you. You grab one of the cherries, getting your fingers covered in more whipped cream. You lean your head back a bit, your nose facing the old tile ceiling. You drop the cherry in your mouth, stem up. Tilting your head back, facing Gareth, you pull the cherry off the stem between your teeth. It’s unbelievably sensual the way you chew the red fruit. 

You show each of the boys the stem, even Eddie. When you glance over at him, you do not believe you have ever seen him so annoyed. He’s not hiding it well. You drop the stem on your tongue, returning your gaze over to Gareth. 

You roll the stem around, using your teeth slightly to do the stupid party trick you learned in 10th grade to impress a boy. It’s not impressive when every hot girl in school could do it, too. But nonetheless, it was something you could do to layer on the eroticism of the moment. 

When it’s tied, you contemplate taking it out of your mouth and showing it off. Maybe even drop it in Eddie’s hand. Instead, you decide to just extend your tongue out and show the stem on the very tip of your tongue. 

The color drains from Eddie’s face. It’s the end of the show for him. 

He grabs your forearm, ripping you out of the booth. You look back at Gareth, who’s still smiling, all the while Jeff and Grant look even more confused.  

When the fresh air hits you when he slams the glass door open, you flick your head to the side and spit out the stem in the gravel. His grip is so tight around your arm as he drags you to the van. It’s parked on the far side of the lot, occupying a spot that’s backed up to some woods. 

“What is wrong?”

Asking such a question only pisses him off further. Once you reach the van, his left hand flings the side door open. He practically tosses you onto the shag rug that lines the very back of the vehicle. 

“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” His voice is intimidatingly deep.

Your legs hang out while Eddie stands over you, his hand resting on the top of the van. The back of your knees feel the sting of the frayed metal that hinges the door shut. You swallow, contemplating if you should continue messing with him. With the way he’s looking at you, you felt that this was not going to lead to the jealous sex you two had before. He’s actually angry. 

“You pushed my hand away when I wanted you earlier.”

Your voice is so small and unsure. His eyes narrow at you, his mouth slightly ajar in complete disbelief. The silence hanging in the air makes your heart rate increase. 

His mouth closes and you watch his jaw clench, “So you flirt with my friends right in front of me? Even when I explicitly said you better not.”

With his free hand, he swats your bare leg as you squeeze your thighs together. “Answer me.”

You watch the red mark appear on your flesh and decide to keep playing into the game. You had nothing to lose. If he’s actually angry, you could always have amazing make up sex instead. Eddie could not stay mad at you for too long. 

You shake your head, lifting your chin up in defiance. “All I did was tie a cherry stem.”

He does not accept that answer, slapping your thigh harder this time. 

You knew then that you had him where you wanted him. His eyes were giving him away. His pupils dilated as soon as he realized that you did not yelp at him slapping you around. 

Your eyes widen, watching him jump into the van beside you and dragging you back further. He slams the door, rattling the hunk of metal. The only light being let in is from the front windshield. A hazy warm lit streetlight only lights up Eddie’s face as he’s pining you to the ground. 

He positions himself between your legs, pushing the back of your thighs up with his knees. The skirt you chose for the occasion was pretty flowy, so it slid up your hips as soon as he props you up. “You want to act like a whore in front of my friends? All ‘cause I slapped your hand away earlier?”

His voice does not even sound like his. You hear the jiggling of his belt as he asks you the question. But the more twisted Eddie was, the more aroused you felt. You were drawn to him the first moment he teased you and bullied you a bit. You got off on him being callous. 

“Words. Now.”

You look down between your legs and see his cock springing free from his boxers as he shoves them down his thighs. You groan, the pulsating at your core coinciding with your heart rate. “Wanted to get your attention.”

He smacks your inner thigh, painfully close to your pantyline. You moan at the action, propping yourself up a bit more on your elbows. You watch as he carefully drags his pointer and middle finger under the hem of your lace. He smirks to himself, “That’s not what I fuckin’ asked.”

His fingers dip under your underwear, gathering the slick between your folds. You throw your head back, unable to hold back the sob as he spreads you open. You were putty in his hands, always bending to him. “Yes, Eddie.”

Your response leads to him sliding his fingers inside your cunt, a wet squelching noise filling both your ears. Your back thuds against the rug as your muscles give out under his touch. He fucks you with his fingers, the look on his face unreadable. He usually takes his time with foreplay, but this was different. He was testing how far he could take you in a limited amount of time. You were in a parking lot with his friends less than 500 feet inside, he could not take his time torturing you. 

His fingers retract from your pussy, gripping onto the lace of your panties and tearing them down your legs. When he sits back on his heels, you watch his long cock bounce with his movements. It sends a smile across your face. When he zeros in on you again, he tilts his head to the side. 

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t talk anymore.”

It makes you giggle at first, unsure if he’s really being serious. But when his face does not twist up into a smirk like it usually did, you realize you were in trouble. He takes ahold of his dick, leaning forward onto you. Your mouth falls open as you study Eddie dragging his tip between your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. 

He sinks into you, raising your hips a bit to meet him straight on. The stretch is always overwhelming for you at first. You and Eddie fucked at least three times a week, but he always made you cum before shoving his cock deep inside you. Stretching you out for a couple minutes with two fingers is not enough for you. He hisses when he pulls back, his hands grasping onto you for dear life. 

He wastes no time setting a bruising pace. There’s no build up, he is simply taking his annoyance out on you. You are reaching out to anything around you, trying to find something to hold onto as he rams into you. You find a sweatshirt nearby, squeezing it as tight as you can as you breathe out to relax your pelvic muscles.

“Eddie, please-” You try to say, throwing your head forward. He shifts your hips a bit more, opening you up wider. As he does that, he rakes his hands upward, pushing your skirt up higher to your belly button. He shakes your head to your pleas. 

“Eddie, please.” He mocks, relocating his hand to squeeze your cheeks together. When your jaw unhinges, Eddie inspects your tongue as he drills into you. “Put my fingers in your mouth.”

“Ed-”

He sandwiches your face harder, cutting you off from being able to say anything. He fills your mouth with the two fingers that were plunging inside of you earlier. The taste of your own arousal is still present on his fingers as you swirl your tongue around the digits. You mewl as he grinds his pelvis into your clit. “Shut up,” he orders, his face centimeters from yours, “Now suck them while I fuck you.”

You have no way to talk back, so you do what he says. You hallow your cheeks out, lathering all your saliva around his fingers. The build up in the pit of your stomach only gets more intense when Eddie hoists your leg up over his shoulder. You clench around him, tears pricking your eyes as you vibrate his fingers with your moans. 

“Do not fuckin’ cum yet,” He warns, pulling his fingers in and out of your mouth. His hips are faltering as he chases his own climax. Your body feels like every nerve ending is about to implode under the pressure of you holding back your orgasm, and Eddie can sense that. He drags his fingers out from your lips, rubbing your own spit into your lips. He grabs your jaw with the same hand, pulling your face closer to his.

“Say you’re mine. You’re only gonna be mine.”

You nod, knocking his forehead slightly. “I’m only ever gonna be yours, Eddie.”

With your foreheads touching, you watch as he falls apart inside you. 

And with three vicious snaps of his hips, he spills his seed deep inside you. He does not let out a sound. His mouth is agape as deep heaves fan your face. 

When he finishes, he slides his cock out of you and sits back on his knees again. Him exiting your body is so frustrating, you want to scream.  

He uses one arm to hold your one leg back as spit covered fingers swipe up your cunt. His spend is leaking out of you and you know if he works his usual magic, you will cum in 30 seconds. 

“Please, Eddie. Please let me cum.”

He smirks villainously, “Why should I let you, hm?” He spreads your pussy lips, getting a good look as his cum dribbles down to your asshole.

You are getting desperate. You never had to beg Eddie to cum, ever. He was always so generous. 

“I promise I’ll be good. Please, please.” He chuckles dryly before sinking his fingers back into you. “Fine. Since you asked so pretty and promised to behave yourself.”

His fingers scissor into you, that familiar burn in the pit of your stomach returning. As his two fingers make work at your entrance, his thumb swipes your clit in meticulous circles. His bottom lip is tucked under his top teeth, watching you fall apart on his fingers. You are practically chanting his name as he brings you to your peak. 

When your chest heaves, finally relaxing from your orgasm, Eddie slides his digits out of you and brings them up to his plump pink lips. He licks them clean, just like you did with the whipped cream earlier. 

“Hm… Don’t see how Gareth thought you were a vanilla girl,” He states, smiling sinfully at you. “You, my dear, are a fuckin’ vixen.”

-

tags of friends who may like this idk (if you wanna be tagged in the future, just lemme know <3):

@hockeyhughes @pedgito @mediocredreams @the-unforgivenn

[marzshin]

confident!fem reader x various

characters- leona, vil, ruggie, kalim, idia

this was really fun to think abt, i hope you all like it!

leona

so he’s used to it in a sense. sunset savanna has no shortage of strong feminine people so when you two meet he doesn’t think much of it. you’re just another herbivore to him. it’s not until you start hanging out more that he begins to admire it. you walk with purpose, strong elegant strides seems to be all you know, and the stern tone you use when you’re talking with others? whew does that get his mind running wild… especially if you’re using it on him😼 if you’re looking for a hype man that keeps it lowkey, leona is your man. he loves it😋

Vil

power couple who? heads jerk to ogle at you two, it’s as if you’ve lured everyone into a trance. vil loves how confident you are because it translates onto him; when he’s with you he feels just as confident. (which is needed bc we know he can get pretty insecure at times) regardless of your modeling experience, you better believe he’s doing a shoot with you, and by the SEVEN is it one of the best shoots he’s ever done. your energy’s just mix soooo well, it’s so unbelievably encapsulating. everyone is envious of you all. they want what you guys have fr.

ruggie

oh he’s crazy intimidated. like he cannot for the life of him bring himself to start a conversation with you. i mean he’s used to it with the female hyena beastmen at his home town yeah, but unlike with them, he actually wants to talk to you… it eats away at him until you take notice and send him a wave. what?! oh my seven… he could faint, he’s never been more attractive to anyone ever. as you guys begin to talk, he falls deeper and deeper in love with you. i’m kind of getting a jessica rabbit and roger vibe goin, sort of🤷‍♀️ but just know that with him you’ll always have love right around the corner.

kalim

he’s allll for it. honestly he can’t take his eyes off you, taking in every feature of your body and face, finding more and more ways to love you every time he takes a glance at you… very lover boy but he’d be that way even if you weren’t confident. if you like dressing up, he’s so buying you outfits and jewelry just to see you model them. if not, that’s fine too! he just likes basking in your glory. another power couple i fear. his peppy, happy-go-lucky vibes paired with your more mature, sexy one is like the final puzzle pieces finally being put together. classmates love the energy you two radiate when you’re together and he loves it too.

idia

he’s shaking like a wet chihuahua… utterly hopeless, pathetic, etc. no idea what would’ve kickstarted your relationship but it’s literally the loser x baddie trope, it’s great lolz. it’s even better if you’re also a secret nerd, especially for him. now don’t expect much eye contact with him, he tries okay, you’re just too gorgeous😔 while he’s geekin’ out over a new character he pulled in one of his games, you just sit there next to him, listening and watching him with a loving passion. he accidentally makes eye contact and freezes. blue screens if you will, it’s funny but worrisome at times. like he’s yapping your ears off one moment then an eruption of pink fire fills your view and he’s stuck there stammering. all in all, he’s got no clue how he could’ve pulled you but sevens is he in love.

[peachhcs]

Saw a tik tok of this girl introducing her boyfriend as her “side piece” and his reaction was so funny the way his head clocked to the side had me crying.

What do you think Wills reaction would be to Samy doing that?

i’ve actually haven’t seen this trend yet so i’m kind of winging how it would go, but i can imagine how funny it would be and how caught off guard will would be if samy did this to him.

lowkey small jealousy trope as well (someone give me more requests about jealousy bc i love writing jealousy trope 😼)

au masterlist

now samy knew will wouldn’t voluntarily do a tiktok with her after all of the pranks she’s pulled on him, so she had to be discrete about this one. she set up her phone camera and made up a story about how samy needed to record herself introducing the people in her life as part of this class assignment.

it was half believable and will was somewhat gullible, so he agreed to it. samy pulled the blonde into the frame where he awkwardly smiled as she leaned forward to start recording.

“hi, so for my first introduction, i will be introducing will smith. will is a hockey player for the san jose sharks and previously the boston college eagles. will and i have known each other for some years and now i’d say our relationship is..complicated. i guess one could say he’s my side piece—“

as soon as samy said that she watched the way the boy’s head snapped in her direction. he moved his neck so fast the brunette swore he gave himself whiplash and she really struggled to keep from laughing.

“woah wait what the fuck?” will didn’t even stop his tone.

“what?” samy played dumb and looked at him confused.

“i’m your side piece? what the fuck?” he looked so mad and hurt.

“well like..i dunno. maybe i shouldn’t have said that..” samy continued going with it.

“maybe? i..i thought— am i not your boyfriend? is there someone else?” watching the way will’s expression turned to full hurt and betrayal broke the younger hughes’ heart so much that she couldn’t keep going.

“i’m joking, i’m joking. this is a prank. i’m sorry, baby. you are my boyfriend. i promise there isn’t anyone else,” samy broke and it tooo the hockey player another second to catch on. when he did he rolled his eyes and flipped off the camera.

“you’re so mean to me,” he pouted and started to walk away. samy just pulled him back though, clinging to his arm.

“i’m so sorry, will. i saw someone do the trend and wanted to do it on you, but that was mean. i love you,” the soccer player rushed.

will wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her flush against his chest, fighting the smile creeping its way to his lips because he could never stay mad at her.

“tell me you’re mine,” he said.

“i’m yours, will. i’m all yours, i promise. i love you,” samy said.

“i love you too,” he smiled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips which samy got all on video because she hadn’t stopped recording yet.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hey p here!!! 👋🏻 Just as we talk, I want a fic about Toto Wolff x wife reader who always healthy/happy go lucky person and suddenly she's ill. You can't decide what it is. Include there drivers/anyone in the sports reaction. Like they're trying to help her, watching out for her. She's their friend/mother figure, of course they're worried. But being her, she just deals with humour even though she's sick. And can you include Jack? That boy has my heart. Even though this must be heartbreaking for him at such a young age, I think it's time for some angst, gut wrenching story that traumatize us all😃 And lastly how everyone cope with it. Add anything you want to. Thanks!!! :))) Appreciate it❤️❤️

With prompts:

1) "After all this time?” “Yes. I still do"

2) "My sweet and brave little munchkin."

3) "Tick tock, the clock is ticking"

4) "I thought we had more time"

Slipping through my fingers

there are moments in life that define everything, moments that still your world to a complete standstill people often assume that these moments are of joy or happiness. unfortunately for toto his moments caught a rotten streak and his world was never going to be the same ever again.

the day toto met her was a day full of surprises for both of them.

y/n had just recently made the decision to switch up her major from nursing towards mass media and journalism. it was a switch that raised a lot of eyebrows and concern from her family yet they supported her nonetheless, everyone knew how talented she was and knew she’d get a job eventually. What they didn’t know was along with the job she’d catch the attention of a rather tall man.

toto was having a rather eventful day, both of his star drivers had crashed into each other on lap one giving his arch nemesis horner his day in the sun with his prodigy max verstappen winning the race only to rub salt in his raw open wounds. he should have signed him instead of nico toto thought as he stomped through the media pen only to be bombared with around a hundred reporters eagerly waiting to see if the team principal was going to have another one of his infamous anger blowouts. alas to them a young female reporters questions had caught the interest of Toto.

Her question was clear cut no glazing no unnecessary flattery to grab his attention, all she’d ask him was if he’s going to fire someone on the pit wall for the strategies today. it was a bold question not one that reportes like to use since it ends up in court cases but she really didn’t care. It was her first few races and she wanted to make a name for herself and boy did she.

Toto’s response was curt and dismissive but she didn’t budge one bit, she was persistent and that caught Toto’s attention.

ladies and gentlemen this was the first moment in Toto’s life that had stopped the world for him.

the moment he looked into her eyes he felt everything was irrelevant. He didn’t care that both silver arrows were a pile of silver dust all that was captivating to him was the brown tinge in her hazel eyes. toto wanted to stare into them forever, and perhaps god was smiling straight down on them and decided to seal both their fates together.

and so it started.

their infamous courtship.

Now for a team principal speaking to people was almost second nature but when it came to her toto was a blubbering mess always leaving the conversation wanting to speak more, it was rather funny towards the other team principals. he was acting like a teenager with his first crush.

things weren’t all that easy for her too, each interaction with toto outside of business had her craving him more and more, she chuckled at his faint attempts to woo her and get her lunches. she too had a crush on him and it was only getting stronger.

the turning point in their relationship was the after party at the Abu Dhabi Grabd Prix, the long season was finally over and the celebrations had started. Toto had eagerly invited her and was hoping praying dying to see her come, unfortunately he wasn’t the only one who was waiting to see her, amongst his infatuation toto was as blind to how interested zak brown had also become towards her. he wasn’t often caught staring at her in places no man’s eyes had entitlement to. things were starting to get creepy but none of our two lovebirds had figured that out.

the party was in full swing when she had decided to show up, wrapping up her tasks with sky sports made her rather late but the look in Toto’s eyes when he had saw her was everything she had hoped and wanted. The man looked starstruck it was insane how whipped he was for her and they weren’t even together.

a couple of drinks and close dances later when she had excused herself to go to the ladies room was when calamity hit.

zak had his dirty gazes set on her ever since she had shown up, he knew toto wasn’t on guard whenever she was there and knew it was his time to try and get handsy with her.

right after walking out of the ladies room she was dragged into a corner and that’s when she felt small fat and stubby fingers trying to touch her. it felt humiliating disgusting and frankly made her want to bleach her skin. right before zak could cover her mouth and start with his actual plan she screamed as hard as she could hoping to get anyone’s attention oh how she regretted not taking up Toto’s offer to walk her to the restroom.

toto had wondered where she had ended up disappearing, was he being too much did she need a break from him?? he was overthinking when he heard her cries for help and in a second all the alcohol in his system had vanished. He leaped towards her cries and the scene startled him to his core, in a second zak was off her and his disgusting touch was replaced with the warm calm caressing of toto a man she was familiar with someone she knew.

the entire night was ruined in a split second, it wasn’t until toto had zak in a head lock that she’d regained her senses, seeing him so worked up over protecting her name and honour made her do what she did next.

the second toto was close by she kissed him, full on kissed him. it wasn’t short or messy it was full of reassurance of promise and of new beginnings.

that’s how the two souls collided.

oh and zak was given not one but multiple fractures and a hefty legal case to fight, toto didn’t play when it came to the ones who he loved.

the new couple relationship caused frenzy all over the internet and the paddock, no one really expected them to be a couple it didn’t make sense, out of everyone why did toto choose a journalist? Didn’t he know if they break up his whole life would be plastered onto the news.

Headlines like these made both of them chuckle, neither of them seeming to care, they were just happy to be with each other against all odds.

throughout the course of their relationship there were times where y/n had become sick, it often worried toto seeing how easily the common cold for her could become much serious, she always brushed his concerns away. it wasn’t until much later into their relationship when toto started noticing more and more health concerns for his now fiancé.

the proposal had taken place in Iceland she’d always loved it there especially the black sand beach and how beautifully it contrasted against the bright white snow, often times she’d dreamed of going there and toto made it a reality for them. she later joked that the beach and the snow represented each of them perfectly, Toto being the dark black beach that only softens in appearance in front of the snow. he’d got down on one knee at that exact spot uttering words of love and honesty. they had their vows at the exact same place. some things don’t change.

it was now 3 years into their marriage, toto had settled down and wasn’t all angry and violent like he used to be (ask the poor abused headsets) he was much calmer and level headed, that’s what happens when you marry the love of your life. he knew not to piss his wife off or worry her after all she was carrying his baby.

the pregnancy test was taken after she had thrown up half her body weight, toto wasn’t around he infact was in austria for the Grand Prix, she had excused herself from it with dumb excuses, Toto ever the gentleman knew not to push it and let her have some space.

In a matter of seconds their world’s axis shifted.

the pregnancy test came as a positive surprise, neither of them had discussed having children but they weren’t against the idea, when toto came back to his wife pale and heaving beside the toilet he knew what was going on, he whisked her off her feet and kissed her so strongly that you might think the man was off to war.

her pregnancy came with a price thou, a huge price for her to pay. y/n was anaemic her body didn’t have enough red blood cells and that’s why she could faint at the drop of a hat.

the couple had been shopping during the off season for the arrival of their little baby, unfortunately fans and paparazzi got a hold of their location resulting in a rather ugly swarm of cameras and people. the noise alone alerted Toto that their quiet evening had come to an end, in a rush to protect his wife and unborn child Toto’s steps where hastened and elongated, unfortunately his wife simply couldn’t keep up and fell victim to one of her fainting spells the camera and the noises alongside the amount of people did nothing to help her and so she collapsed.

the faint thud would haunt Toto forever, his whole world crumbled when he heard it, instantly he rushed towards her only to find her knocked out cold, the rush to the hospital has been the longest wait of his life.

he swore then and there that he wouldn’t ever put her or their child in such a situation.

luckily both mother and baby were okay, when they got home later that night she had fallen asleep unknown to the storm that was brewing within her husband.

Toto wasn’t a very emotionally available man, he preferred to deal with his emotions privately or not at all if possible but ever since meeting her he’s been more open towards showing love and care but the one thing he won’t show is fear.

Torger Christian Wolff was afraid.

he’d been having these vivid dreams of his wife dying and leaving him and their six year old son alone forever, it’s been haunting him ever since her fall.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

A Curse [Chapter 2: Harbor Gateway]

A/N: Thank you for the warm welcome you have given this series!!! I am sick with bronchitis currently so this has been a big bright spot in an otherwise miserable week 😅 I can't wait to show you where this story is going, I hope you're ready for it 🥰💜

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, a tiny bit of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap relationship, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, ice cream, judgmental parents, aggressive Akitas, we're literally in Minnesota!!!

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

Afterwards, Mason pulls his clothes back on as you are absentmindedly drawing stars in the steam on the windows of his Chevy Silverado. On the other side of the glass is inky Minnesota night, a full moon dissolving away, glowing freckles of constellations. You’re staying with your parents and Mason has roommates, so the truck was the expedient choice. It was good, not that you finished; you didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask, but even if he had you would have told him not to worry about it. It can take forever, especially with an audience. You’d rather wait until you’re alone.

Mason glances down at the used condom on the floor of his Silverado, hastily discarded, viscerally slick in a way that becomes sickening in the letdown, as the endorphins and the adrenaline slip away and the blood pumps slow and unclouded. He smirks as he asks: “You sure you don’t want to get back on the pill?”

You sigh, drawing another star. You are still naked and sprawled across the back seat, glistening with sweat in the moonlight. “Well I tried three different prescriptions and had three miserable experiences, and I’m really not interested in playing side effect roulette again. And I can’t risk my skin going insane and random bleeding when I’m running around all over L.A. trying to get parts.”

“What about that little sperm assassin T-shaped thing?”

You look at him. “An IUD?”

“Yeah.”

You wince, engraving another star into the steam on the window. “I don’t think I like the idea of having a piece of metal shoved up inside me.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get silicone implants?”

You shrug; you can’t deny the irony. “I don’t need an IUD to be an actress.”

“Look, I’m not complaining about the tits thing,” Mason says, holding up his hands. “Obviously I’d enjoy them too. And you’d still have them when you move home, so it’s not a waste even if the acting thing doesn’t work out.”

You already know he feels this way, and yet still, it hurts. “When I move home?”

He smiles and crawls back on top of you, his Carleton College hoodie whispering against your belly and chest, soft royal blue cotton on damp skin. He had been a Political Science and International Relations major who took Theater Arts 195: Acting Shakespeare for an arts credit. He was beyond terrible and had no appreciation for the field whatsoever, but he was tall and strong and jolly, an earnest corn-fed Midwestern boy, and when one day after class he’d asked if he could take you to Culver’s for a burger and frozen custard, you’d said yes.

Here and now, in the back seat of his Chevy Silverado, Mason kisses your forehead. Then he ghosts his thumb over the ridge of your orbital socket and cheekbone, where your dark glittery eyeshadow has smudged like a spreading bruise: Galaxy by Anastasia Beverly Hills, Elysian by Natasha Denona. “I’m not saying you aren’t good. But how many people on this planet get to be movie stars? It’s just not realistic. And it’s about so much more than talent. It’s about who you know, and luck, and chemistry, and looks, and a bunch of other things that are mostly out of your control. You’re never going to be the type of girl who’s an influencer or winning Miss America, you’re just not. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t very, very pretty. And I loved you anyway.”

Loved, past tense. You and Mason stopped using that word a year ago; now the nostalgia is painting memories like the walls of an old house. His memories, anyway. You sit up and start yanking on your clothes: oversized yellow Santa Monica crewneck, black sweatpants with elastic cuffs at the ankles. “I think I’m going to get the gummy bear implants.”

Mason licks his lips. “Yum.”

“They’re a type of silicone, but they’re supposed to feel more natural and be less dangerous if they rupture.”

“Will you have scars?” he says as if the notion has just occurred to him, troubled, perhaps a little revolted.

“Well yeah, they have to end up under my skin somehow.”

Mason shudders, then he has another thought. “Who’s going to take care of you after surgery when you’re all sore and zonked out on opioids?”

“My roommate Baela said she would. She’s had friends who have gone through it already.”

“Okay, good. I wouldn’t want you to be alone out there.” Mason touches the back of your head, a quick fond gesture. He’s the only man you’ve ever been with, and even that took a while, months of trying to envision him undressing you before you were sure you could do it without flinching, without being afraid or shy or bewildered. But in the end it had been easy, always easy, which is why you keep coming back to him like a comet. Your elliptical orbit takes you far away and then close again, and such natural patterns are effortless to keep.

You say, the edges of your lips curling into a furtive smile: “I’m definitely not alone.”

Mason groans. “You’re going to hook up with that new agent guy, aren’t you?”

“What? No! No way, he has a fiancée.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s more amused than annoyed. “Okay, whatever.”

“You know I don’t date anyone.” Which is why each time you’re home visiting, Mason gets a text: Want to get lunch at Culver’s? or Can you drive me to Target? or Pick me up around 9 p.m.?

Mason smirks and taunts: “I don’t know, with the way you talk about him you sound kind of obsessed.”

“I’m just grateful. Someone finally gave me a chance.” You look to the window; the steam and your hand-drawn stars have evaporated away. “And yeah, he’s interesting and he’s cute, and he’s kind of mean but then unexpectedly caring sometimes, and I think he’s one of those people who are really good at what they do but only when they’re inspired…but that doesn’t mean I’m into him romantically.” A pause. “And even if I was, there’s no harm in a super-secret, one-sided crush.”

“Okay. Have fun with all the adulterous sex.”

You chuckle. “Thanks, but that is not the plan.” You slip on your flip-flops, shimmy out of the back seat, and trot around the Silverado to the passenger’s door. Mason climbs into the driver’s seat and turns his key in the ignition. You ask: “What happened to that ballerina girl who was in your Instagram stories for a while?”

“Had to ghost her, she got super clingy and controlling. She was texting me at work all the time and got pissed off when I was putting a ton of hours into that election thing for CNN.” Mason is a political analyst. He turns to you. “You ever feel like people are the best versions of themselves before you really know them? Then you get too close and all the cracks start showing.”

“I think people are wonderful. You just have to find the ones you click with.”

“I should have figured you’d say something like that.” He steers his truck out of the otherwise empty parking lot in Lac Lavon Park. “I’m looking forward to you being home again.”

“I’m not.”

You both laugh, and then Mason drives you to your parents’ house.

At the dining room table, Mom and Clara are researching wedding venues, vast countryside estates and metropolitan historic hotels. Clara got engaged two weeks ago during a vacation to Turks and Caicos. In the living room, Dad and Tripp are watching commentary on the NBA Finals. Tripp’s name isn’t really Tripp; he is the third James in a row, named after your father and grandfather, and Tripp is short for triple. All over the house, there are Akitas lolling in plush dog beds and clicking around on Brazilian Cherry hardwood floors. They have faces like teddy bears, but their dark eyes track you mistrustfully, as if you are an intruder.

No one asks where you have been. They barely acknowledge that you are back. “Hello, dear,” your mother calls distractedly from the dining room, and that’s all. You jog upstairs to the bathroom you share with Clara before anyone can notice your smeared makeup and the unsavory post-car-sex sweat gleaming on your skin. You get into the shower, turn on water so hot it is nearly scalding, and close your eyes. With your back pressed to the jade green tiles, your hand wanders down over your belly and stops between your legs. Your mind cycles through fantasies, but nothing seems to be working.

It’s not real. It can’t hurt anybody.

You imagine that Aegon is the one touching you, and in under a minute it’s over.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I want there to be horses,” Clara says, scrolling through her phone and ignoring the food on her plate: roast chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, green beans sauteed in garlic and olive oil, panzanella salad. Mom prepared it all herself, not because there was no help available—your parents have a housekeeper named Angela who comes by several days per week—but to prove she could. In the living room are shelves heavy with books by Martha Stewart, Ina Garten, Cat Cora, Julia Child, Nigella Lawson. You hear echoes of ambient clicking, Akitas meandering down hallways and staircases.

“Horses?!” Tripp replies with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, gesturing to the sliding glass door. “Don’t you get enough horses in your everyday life? Don’t you have like five right out there?” Your parents’ house sits on ten acres of land, including a barn and several paddocks for Clara’s rescued Thoroughbreds.

“I want beautiful horses,” Clara insists. “Unusual, photogenic, so they can be in the background of all the photos. Maybe Friesians or Haflingers?”

“I’m not sure we can sort the venues by types of horses available, dear,” Mom says. All that’s on her own plate is a heap of green beans and a few pieces of skinless white meat chicken.

Clara moans and drops her face into her hands. “It’s so overwhelming!”

“You’ll find a place you like, Clara Bear,” Dad says mildly, painstakingly slicing meat off a drumstick with his fork and knife.

“And Owen is no help at all. Every time I ask for his opinion he just tells me to do whatever I think is best, but I don’t know what’s best, that’s why I’m asking him!”

Your mother pats Clara’s shoulder reassuringly. “Guys don’t care about weddings,” Tripp says, twisting around in his chair to see the television in the living room. On a rerun of E! News, the hosts are discussing Chris Hemsworth’s rigorous fitness regime and Meghan Trainor’s “mommy makeover.” You peek under the tablecloth. One of the Akitas, Yuki, is glaring as she waits for you to drop something for her to eat.

“You could do something like that,” Mom says to you, and you realize you haven’t been listening to the conversation.

“Sorry, do what?”

“You could be a wedding planner or a real estate agent. Those are actual careers, but there’s more creativity involved, isn’t there? And didn’t you take a design class in college? That would certainly come in handy.”

“Hm,” your father says with a frown, still dissecting his chicken. He would rather you go to law school like Tripp. You would rather lie down in traffic.

“I took a set design class, Mom. Because I was studying how to be an actress. And that’s what I’m doing right now in Los Angeles, trying to be an actress.”

“You could become an architect!” Mom bursts out with sudden enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

You titter evasively. “I can’t draw, Mom. Or use the modeling software, or do math.”

“You know, you don’t need any specific degree to get into law school,” Tripp says, and your father gives him a nod of approval. “You could have majored in dance or bagpiping or Egyptology, it doesn’t matter. All they want is a high undergrad GPA and a 168+ LSAT score, and I bet you could get that if you studied. You can even retake the test a few times if you need to.”

“Why do you do that?” Clara snaps at him. You eat your panzanella salad and pretend not to be listening. Beneath the tablecloth, Yuki growls. You toss her a few cubes of Italian bread so she won’t bite you.

Tripp shovels mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Do what?”

“Why are you always wasting your time trying to convince her to grow up and get a real job? If she wants to embarrass herself, let her. I have problems that I’m trying to solve, so how about applying yourself to those instead?”

“Are you serious? You think I should be calling around to wedding venues asking about their selection of exotic draft horses?”

Clara aggressively stabs at her green beans with her fork. “Fuck off, Tripp.”

“Hey, hey, kids, no swearing,” your mother says. “It’s Father’s Day. Be respectful.”

Dad turns to you. “You could be an entertainment lawyer, how about that? You could work in intellectual property or negotiating contracts.”

You smile warily. “I’ll think about it, Dad.”

Clara says to your parents: “Well I hope all the money you’re throwing out the window to support her in California isn’t coming out of my wedding fund.”

You close your eyes and think: I can’t spend my life in a cubical. I can’t spend every minute of every day trying to forget who I am.

“Shh, shh,” your mother pleads, rubbing the back of Clara’s clenched hand. “You will get exactly what we promised you, that amount is still set aside for your wedding. Nothing she does affects you.”

“And it’s only until the end of the year,” your father adds. “Then the vacation is over.” Then the meager allowance they are funneling to you will stop and you will be ordered to return home to pursue an honorable course of existence. You have six months to succeed in Hollywood, or the dream dies.

Your father is now asking Tripp about his summer associate position at Latham & Watkins in Chicago. Your mother is advising Clara to get a wedding dress with a corset back so it can be adjusted in the event she gains or loses weight at the last minute. Underneath the table, Yuki is growling again; she noses your knees threateningly.

“I got an agent,” you say, and everyone looks at you.

“Really?” Mom asks, sounding a little perplexed.

“Who is it?” Dad says.

“Aegon Targaryen. He has a small office in Elysian Park.”

“Oh, I think I recognize the last name.”

“His family is in the industry.” You are beaming; you can feel the heat rising in your face. “But Aegon kind of does his own thing and tries to stay out of the limelight. He was an actor when he was my age. And I guess he thinks I can get roles, so that’s really exciting.”

Your mother seems concerned as she nibbles at a shred of white meat. “Is he an older man?”

“Not that much older. He’s thirty-five.”

“Well, be careful, darling,” your father says gravely. “Who knows what his intentions are.”

Clara evidently agrees. “Men can be so creepy. I had this one professor in pharmacy school who cheated on his wife with one student, then cheated on her six months later with a different student. And then he retired to Boca Raton and was never heard from again.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Tripp says to your father. “We read about Clinton v. Jones in torts class, it was wild, I didn’t know he was such a freak even before the Monica Lewinsky thing…”

After dinner, while your father and Tripp are flipping through television channels in the living room and Clara is upstairs on the phone with Owen, you go to the kitchen where your mother is washing dishes in a bubble-filled sink. Again, she doesn’t have to do this; Angela will be here to clean the house tomorrow. But it’s part of being a perfect homemaker, and if she’s not good at this then she’s not good at anything.

She glances over when she hears you come in. “Did you get an appointment with one of the doctors your father recommended?”

“I did, yeah. I have a consultation on Friday.” You lean against the marble countertop and cross your arms so you don’t fidget nervously. From a dog bed on the floor, Mochi glowers at you. “Do you think I should get the surgery?”

She shrugs; you’re not certain if she is more indecisive or apathetic. “Your cousin Madison had a nose job the summer before college. Your old classmate Emma got a blepharoplasty and then met her husband three months later. Practically all of my friends have had breast augmentations, and I’ve certainly never regretted mine. I think if you’re going to get anything fixed, it makes sense to pick that.”

You try again to elicit a strong opinion, whether an endorsement or objection. “I don’t think I’d want to do it if I didn’t feel like it was necessary to be an actress.”

“Well, regardless of whatever you have going on in California, you’ll either have to get them done now or after you have children,” Mom says. “I love you and Clara and Tripp, but you destroyed my body. At least doctors can repair breasts. My bladder is still useless.”

You stare at Mochi distractedly. The dog huffs, unwelcoming. “What was the recovery like?”

“Oh, hell,” your mother says. “But once you heal up it’s worth it. I can wear square necklines and strapless dresses again.”

“Technically, you could have worn whatever you wanted.”

She gives you an impatient look, a you’re too old for that sort of frustration. “No one wants to see some sad flabby woman.” She is including your father in this statement. You remember being home for Thanksgiving Break during your freshman year at Carleton and inadvertently stumbling upon emails from one of the hospital interns when you used his laptop to buy movie tickets: indecent inuendoes, flirtatious photos, no smoking gun but certainly more than was appropriate between colleagues. You had tried to tell your mother, and she had deflected over and over again until you realized that she didn’t want to know; it was easier to be carried by the currents of momentum than to rock the boat until it sank. “This agent of yours…is he celebrating Father’s Day with his family?”

“No, Aegon lost his dad when he was in college.”

“That must have been difficult,” she says vaguely as she scrubs a pot with a green Scotch-Brite dish wand. Your parents are now at the age when their friends have begun to succumb to strokes and heart disease and cancers, and the lurking specter of mortality both horrifies and fascinates them. “What did he die of?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Mom?!” Clara shouts from upstairs. “Osaka is puking in the hallway!”

Your mother sighs and dries her hands on a dish towel, then leaves you alone in the kitchen. You linger there for a while, listening to the faint drone of CNN from the living room television, then leave the house through the sliding glass door in the dining room. Outside the sun is setting, and you gaze westward as the aging daylight turns the tall green grass and silhouettes of horses to gold like the mines that first brought settlers to California. You slide your phone out of the pocket of your denim shorts and take a photo, then post it to your Instagram story with the caption Home and a smiley face emoji.

A minute later, you receive a DM. Aegon has typed: This explains the big horse girl energy

You laugh and respond: They belong to my sister, I am personally very anti-horse

You hope he’ll continue the conversation. You don’t have to wait long. How’s Minnesota? Aegon asks.

You stop and consider how to answer, then decide not to overshare. Devoid of palm trees…but good!

There is a pause—perhaps thirty seconds—and then Aegon types: How’s the ex-boyfriend?

Is he curious or jealous? You smile. Still not standing in the way of anything :)

Aegon reacts with a heart emoji, then immediately switches it to a thumbs-up. You cannot ignore the wave of warmth and fondness and exhilaration that overwhelms you. Logically, you know he’s engaged to another woman. Emotionally, it doesn’t seem relevant.

You think: It’s just a crush. It can’t hurt anybody.

Then you remember what your mother asked, and as you stand outside in the fading dusk light you Google Aegon’s father Viserys Targaryen. He has his own Wikipedia page. You scroll to the bottom, where it reads in nondescript black letters: On October 27, 2009, Targaryen passed away at his Malibu residence after a long illness.

~~~~~~~~~~

You have just finished ringing up a Like It-sized Apple Pie A La Cold Stone when Josh says: “Hey, there’s an old guy asking for you.”

“What?” You look towards the ice cream freezer and there he is, dark jeans, green Nike Killshots, a yellow Hawaiian shirt that’s too big for him. “It’s my agent!” you shout as you rush over to meet him, loud enough that everyone in the shop turns to stare.

“Shh,” Aegon says, but he’s laughing.

“What are you doing here?” you ask from behind the counter.

“I got some good news, and I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Cool! Should I make you ice cream first?”

“Um, sure.” Aegon surveys the menu of Signature Creations. He seems overwhelmed; he actually looks a little panicked.

“Are you usually a chocolate or vanilla person? Or peanut butter, or coffee? Or mint?”

“Strawberry,” Aegon says.

“Strawberry,” you echo, surprised. “Okay, I think you’ll like Our Strawberry Blonde.”

“Neat.”

“Because, you know, it has strawberries and you’re blonde.”

“Sounds literally perfect for me,” Aegon says, smiling.

“What size?”

“Uh…” He reads the labels on the cups in the display case. “The big one.”

“No, you have to say the real name.”

He chuckles. His cheeks are pink, his turbulent blue eyes sparkling. “I’m not saying that.”

“Then I’m not making you ice cream!”

He groans. “I want an Our Strawberry Blonde in the size Gotta Have It.”

“Cup, cone, or waffle cone bowl?”

“Stop asking me questions or you’re fired.”

“Waffle cone bowl,” you decide. Aegon studies you as you work, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side: scraping a mound of strawberry ice cream out of the freezer with your metal spatulas, taking it to the cold countertop, and smashing in graham cracker pie crust, caramel, fluffy whipped topping, and fresh strawberries. You use one of the spatulas to expertly scoop the mixture into a waffle cone bowl, not spilling a drop. Then you hand Aegon his ice cream and ring him up at the cash register. He pays in cash.

You ask Josh, the manager on duty, if you can take your fifteen-minute break now. He frowns. “I thought you were going to refill the yellow cake and Oreo cookie mix-ins first.”

“Hey,” Aegon says. He waves a ten-dollar bill in the air to show it to Josh and then dunks it in the tip jar. “Do it yourself.”

“Fine,” Josh mutters to you. “But you don’t get a second over fifteen minutes.”

There’s no time to waste. You hurry to a small table by the window. It’s 8:30 p.m., and outside the world is indigo-dark and threaded with inorganic sparks of headlights, streetlights, kaleidoscopic neon signs. Your eyeshadow is vibrant and pink, because no one cares about that when you work at an ice cream shop: Push by Natasha Denona, Coax by Urban Decay.

Aegon takes his first taste of his ice cream as he sits down in the chair across from you. “You were right, this is delicious. A bop, not a flop.” Then he notices the bruise on your right wrist. “What the hell happened to your hand?”

“Oh. One of the Akitas bit me. Don’t worry, I can cover it up with concealer.”

Aegon is irritated. “Why is your mother letting her Akitas bite you?”

“It was my fault. I forgot that Oni doesn’t like when people pet his feet.”

Aegon sighs, stirring his Our Strawberry Blonde. “You want some of this?”

“I can’t,” you say reluctantly.

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I already had a little cup when I got here this afternoon so I have regrettably hit my ice cream quota for the day.” And then, when Aegon clearly does not approve: “I try not to restrict too much but obviously staying the same size takes effort. That’s not a disorder, it’s just reality.”

Aegon seems to debate arguing, then instead scoops up a heaping spoonful of ice cream and holds it out across the table. “Come on. It doesn’t count if it’s on my spoon.”

You smile sheepishly and open your mouth for him. Your lips close around the plastic spoon: coldness, sweetness, the grit of pulverized graham cracker pie crust, the infinitesimal black seeds of strawberries that catch between your teeth. When Aegon begins to pull it away, you grab his hand and don’t let go until you’ve licked the spoon clean. He laughs hysterically as he watches you. “I haven’t had strawberry ice cream in forever,” you say.

“Don’t tell me you’re a vanilla girl.”

“I am,” you confess. “I know the joke. But I really do always get the vanilla-adjacent flavors. Cookie dough, French vanilla, sweet cream, cheesecake…”

Aegon smirks playfully. “Pathetic.”

“So you’re an enlightened being because you eat strawberry ice cream.”

“Boring people like vanilla. Kids like chocolate. Interesting adults like strawberry.”

“Do you actually have good news for me or did you just come here to be a ghoul?”

“I got you a part.”

“What?!” you squeal, and people are gawking again. This time, Aegon doesn’t tell you to be quiet. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replies, grinning like he can’t help it.

“A part in what?”

“It’s small,” Aegon warns. “It’s an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.”

You scream; Josh scowls at you from behind the counter. “Oh my God, no way, no way!”

“You’re going to be the wife of a guy the doctors kill with negligence. Three scenes, two are pretty short and unremarkable but then you get to yell at the surgeon in the last one. Gives you the opportunity to show some range and make an impression.”

You can’t believe this is happening. “They aren’t going to make me audition first?”

“Well…it’s very last-minute,” Aegon says. “The actress who was supposed to do it has a drug problem or something, I guess, so she ghosted and they were scrambling for a replacement. And I completely fabricated your credentials.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, I typed up a resume and sent it over and they loved it. So try not to talk about your actual experience because none of it will match.”

You shake your head, stunned, amazed. “What if they try to contact one of my alleged former employers?”

“Then they’ll be talking to Aemond, and he will lie and say you were an absolute pleasure to work with.”

Aemond Targaryen: Aegon’s younger brother, a screenwriter, a philanthropist, a well-respected entity in Hollywood, and you know this from the Googling that preceded your first meeting with Aegon last week. “And Aemond doesn’t mind helping you commit fraud?”

“It’s not a favor I call in very often.” Aegon finishes his ice cream, then begins breaking apart the waffle cone bowl and shoving shard-like pieces into his mouth.

“When’s the shoot?”

“Very very early on Thursday, that’s the bad news.” Thursday is two days from now. “So I’ll have to pick you up at your apartment at like 5 a.m.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be ready.”

He smiles, gnawing on a chunk of his waffle cone bowl. “I figured.”

“You’re going too?” The hope is unmistakable in your voice.

“Of course I’m going.”

“I didn’t think agents usually went to film shoots.”

“Well, fortunately for you, your agent is imminently fleeing Los Angeles and has already parted ways with most of his clients and really has nothing else going on besides hiding in his office and playing a Nintendo 64, so I figured I could make it. And also if I’m going to be enthusiastically recommending you to people, I should probably see you work at some point.”

You wiggle your eyebrows flirtatiously. “Do I get to make out with my fake husband?”

Aegon is amused. “From what I understand, you get to chastely kiss him once. They’re sending the script over to my office first thing in the morning, so you’ll only have a day to learn your lines.”

“That’s enough time. I’ll make it work.”

“Always so agreeable,” Aegon muses. So desperate is more like it.

Thursday. “Is the shoot just one day?”

“Yeah, they should be able to get everything they need from you on Thursday morning. Why?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday and I was just wondering if I’d have to reschedule it.”

Aegon is immediately vigilant. “What kind of appointment?”

“Uh…��� You smirk guiltily. “It’s just a consultation. No slicing yet.”

“And you’re going to cancel that,” Aegon says flatly.

“Seriously?”

“Do you want implants because you want them or because you think other people want you to have them?”

You hesitate. “Both.” That’s probably a lie.

Aegon leans back in his chair and studies you. “Yeah, you’re cancelling that appointment.”

“Why?”

“Because when I agreed to sign you, you told me that you’d do anything I say. And I’m telling you to cancel it.”

“But why don’t you want me to get implants? Everyone gets implants.”

“Because once you begin to treat scalpels and needles as prescriptions for everything you don’t like about yourself—or everything that other people don’t like about you—it’s very difficult to stop. First it’s your tits, then it’s your eyes and your nose, then it’s your chin and your cheeks and your neck and your ass, and it’s just this revolving door of painful, dangerous, unnecessary procedures that are condemning you for being mortal, that are carving away your humanity one incision at a time. I’ve seen it happen to more people than I could count, and I don’t want it to happen to you. Because you seem very, very human, and I’d like you to stay that way. Which means you don’t cut yourself up because some agent or producer or casting director told you to.” Then he adds, perhaps as an afterthought: “And anyway, you don’t need implants.”

You smile, then reply quietly: “You’ve never seen me.”

Aegon grins. “I don’t care if you have twelve nipples under there like a fucking beagle, you don’t need plastic surgery.”

You both laugh, and the tension evaporates, and even if you don’t cancel the appointment—Aegon is one person, the entertainment industry is omnipotent and eternal—you are glad he seems to like you the way you are. Behind the counter, Josh is waving manically to get your attention and summon you to return to work. You pretend not to see him.

Aegon asks: “Why don’t you like horses?”

“They freak me out. They’re all teeth and legs and they’re huge, I’m always scared they’ll step on me.”

“Your dad’s a doctor, right? I thought all rich girls had horses.”

“Where I’m from, a lot of women ride horses to distract themselves from the fact that their husbands are riding their receptionists or interns. I’d rather have no horse and no awful cheating husband.” And Aegon stares at you and turns serious, because perhaps you’ve inadvertently addressed the elephant in the room: he has a fiancée, and neither of you are acting like she exists. You swiftly pivot. “I’ll make an exception for you, though.”

He appears startled. “What?”

“The Chinese zodiac. You’re a horse. So you’re the only horse I like.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Aegon chuckles uneasily and gets up to throw his trash away, then stands under the florescent lights with his hands in his pockets, his blonde hair falling out of its gel and hanging over his forehead. He gazes down at you pensively; you are still seated at the table. “When does your shift end?”

“I’m closing tonight, so I’ll be done around 10:30 or 11.”

“Okay. Can I come back to pick you up and drive you home?”

You are puzzled. “Why?”

He gestures to the inky dark window, incredulous. “Because obviously you shouldn’t be walking alone in Harbor Gateway at midnight? You know there was a shooting a block from here last week. I looked it up.”

“I walk home all the time.”

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“You are being very dramatic for a non-actor.”

“Listen, I can’t go to my house and try to fall asleep while I’m wondering if you’re getting mugged or murdered.”

You look at Aegon. He does seem genuinely worried. “You can drive me home.”

“Great. See you in two hours.” He strides away and shoves open the glass door; the little metal bells hanging there jingle.

“Aegon?”

He halts mid-step and turns around. “Yeah?”

“Does Becca know where you are right now?”

His face is some amalgamation of emotions you can’t read, and this is unusual.“Why do you think I paid in cash?”

And before you can reply, he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

On Thursday, June 19th, Aegon picks you up in his white Chrysler Sebring convertible while the city is still asleep. The sky is dark, the streetlights passing by overhead, infinite pinpoint supernovas. There are hardly any other cars on the road. Aegon’s hair is a mess and his eyes are bleary; he’s sipping a Starbucks coffee with one hand and holding the steering wheel with the other. He is wearing a suit, but he still manages to look unpolished, his white shirt half-untucked and his black tie too skinny. He sets his coffee down in one of the cup holders and passes you something venti-sized and iced.

“I got you a vanilla latte, vanilla girl.”

“Aw, thanks! Skim milk?”

“Nope,” he says, smiling. You smile back and take a gulp of it, cold and sweet and bracing. “What’s your hype song?”

“I can’t tell you,” you say, embarrassed.

“Why not?”

“You’re going to terrorize me.”

“Don’t Stop Believing? Don’t Stop Me Now? I Gotta Feeling?”

“Lose Yourself.”

Aegon throws back his head and cackles, his hair flying in the wind. “That’s definitely a fireable offense. I’m ditching you the second we finish this shoot.” But he taps around on his phone and plugs in the aux, and then Eminem is thudding through the speakers as the Sebring sails north and the red-gold dawn rises on the horizon, a celestial message from the East Coast, an omen from the future.

Aegon drives you to Prospect Studios in Los Feliz, just east of Hollywood. Filming will be indoors on a soundstage. You spend what feels like forever in hair and makeup, and the costume designer—who had prepared for a different actress—dresses and redresses you over and over again, frowning at your chest and waist and thighs, and you have a sudden pang of nauseating panic and dread: I don’t belong here. What the fuck was I thinking?

Then you are in the scenes under intensely radiant artificial light, and just like it did in your roles back in Minnesota, the real world vanishes and all that exists are these characters, these moments, and your body and mind become theirs, and perhaps even your soul too. Your husband is handsome and kind, and here in this liminal fictional space you love him, and when the surgeons wheel him off to the operating room you are full of blind naïve surety. Then the doctors update you on his condition and you are still hopeful, but it becomes a fragile thing, like something that shatters when it’s dropped from a height. And then he is dead, he has been taken away from you, he has been stolen, and you are eclipsed by a blood-red wrath that is animalistic and unforgiving. After each take when you are ripped back through the veil and into reality, you can’t remember exactly what you did or said, and the director doesn’t have many critiques so you aren’t sure how it’s going.

But when it’s over, while you are still standing on the soundstage with the other actors, Aegon puts on his sunglasses and smiles at you from across the room; and you remember what he said outside his office on the day you first met—you are so bright, sunshine—and you know you’ve done a good job.

[respectthepetty]

I really love that Wa and Yotha are good exes to each other now that they are in other relationships fifteen episodes into Perfect 10 Liners. And I love that they keep talking under the "Don't text your ex" sign.

Because even though Wa's relationship with Klao has more than its share of problems, they balance each other out. Klao needs someone to save him from himself, and Wa wants to be a savior.

And Wa couldn't be that person for Yotha. Wa couldn't rescue Yotha all the time. Yotha needed a guy who saw all his darkness and embraced it.

Sometimes a Black Brooder doesn't need to be saved by a Heavenly Human. Sometimes he simply needs a chill Green Guy to remind him that the world isn't such a dark place.

And Yotha found that light in Gun.

Much like Red Rascal Arc realized he could experience happiness every day instead of believing every day was a fight through his love for Yellow Yal Arm.

And Blue Boy Sand and his elite Mean Girls shirt found the perfect guy to understand him in Orange Oddity Pond.

Pond makes him breakfast and leaves little orange notes with daily encouragement.

And Sand loves every second of it!

So it's time for these color-coded boys in love to follow their seniors into domestic bliss, so now that Yotha has apologized for hurting his Green Guy, all is well.

Regardless if Faifa likes it or not.

They could have at least waited until Faifa was pretending to be asleep. The disrespect!

But our pretty Blue Boy still comes out on top after becoming the newest campus star, and he gets a beautiful crown of flowers for it because he deserves nice things.

So while his brothers and brother-in-law are about to go through trails and tribulations, Faifa is just going to be enjoying his win.

And while MY HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF MY BODY, Faifa is going to be celebrating in the bar with his friends.

AND WHEN YOTHA'S HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF HIS BODY AND BEING SMASHED IN FRONT OF HIS FACE, Faifa will be drinking the night away knowing he is the bestest boy on campus.

Narrator: Faifa will, in fact, be very pissed off.

But thank goodness Newton is about that business and decided to bring a gun to a knife fight, so the Jets and Sharks will have to sort out their differences another day.

(These two are so dramatic and constantly remind me that this is a JittiRain series)

But, thankfully, Faifa and his "Where there is love, this is life" shirt exit quickly once he sees everyone is okay and notices that Gun is wearing Yotha's black shirt since he knows that shirt isn't going to stay on long now that Yotha is aware of his feelings.

Gun is pulling a Sally Field right now and is shocked that Yotha actually loves him when all of the signs pointed to Yotha being in love with him, but I love this journey of realization for Gun.

And now Yotha has to negotiate how many cows he is willing to give Gun's family so he can keep him and Gun's dad said he just needed to pay a utility bill every now and then (probably electricity, am I right?), and he can keep his son for life. I love this for them!

BUT I DON'T LOVE THIS! Love does not heal trauma, babes! NO! You are not certified to perform exposure therapy! Don't make Gun cry like this. IT HURTS ME!

*rocking back and forth* I'm going to look at the parents' books about colors and design to calm down. Just leave me here for a second. I'll be fine.

Now this is more like it. Just be there for him when he wakes him. Comfort him. Love him.

Be his sunshine in the darkness.

But do NOT do what you are thinking about doing in his childhood room in his parents' house.

You know what? Actually, go for it! They deserve this.

I have a sister to put to bed anyway.

AYEEE

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Ive seen things where people have kids who are dark haired and eyed at birth and turn light haired and eyes when they get older or vice versa.

I headcanon Janet with blonde hair and green eyes and Jack with black hair blue eyes.

Im using this on Tim.

Tim was born with blonde hair green eyes and looked like Jack as a baby, but when he got older, around 4ish, he turned black haired and blue eyed and started looking like Janet.

His parents were both in a love hate relationship with this change. On one hand they want him to have their colors and look like them...

On the other hand they miss when he used to look like the other parent.

Just imagine:

Tim going through old pictures in his gazillion boxes of pictures, the family is helping him.

"Who's this baby? Steph's?"

Someone asks. They look over to see Duke holding a photo of a blonde baby, smiling a gummy smile with curly blonde hair and green emerald eyes looking brighter than a kryptonian in the sun.

"No.. That's.. who is that baby?"

Steph asked very slowly. Guess they forgot to tell Duke that Steph's daughter was a sensitive topic amongst them.

"Steph gave up her daughter at birth, Duke. And it was a traumatic experience for her so we don't talk about it."

Bruce informed.

"O-Oh! I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you didn't know"

She waved him off with a smile, but everyone still wondered who the baby was.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

Tim replied from inside his closet. He walked out upon no reply, setting down another box filled with camera equipment and saw all their confused faces.

"Who's baby is this?"

Duke turned the picture and Tim looked at it closer.

"Oh!"

Tim smiled, taking it and putting it next to his face.

"It's me!"

He smiled just as bright as the baby, which happened to be him, in the picture.

.

.

.

"WHAT!?"

The family, including Alfred, stared jaw dropped shocked at the guy.

The baby in the photo, smiling oh so brightly like the sun, green eyed, blonde curly hair, with the cutest little red polka dot dress on, was Tim, who had straight-ish black hair and blue eyes, didn't smile as brightly as the moon, who only gave smirks and grins, and was wearing a long sleeves under a Limp Bizkit t shirt with very baggy jeans.

"Yeah.. Genetics! Ya know..?"

"Explain."

Jason demanded.

"Well, up until I was 4-ish I had my dad's face but my mom's green eyes and blonde curly hair, but then it turned black and my eyes turned blue and straight-ish and I started looking more like my mom."

He rubbed his neck sheepishly.

That started the searching of Tim's baby photos. They'd organize the Bat photos and the hero photos later, right now they needed to find all of the blonde hair green eyed baby Tim photos.

It was no secret that Tim was trans, so when all the photos of a little girl in dresses and skirts showed up they weren't phased. It was hilarious to see all the pouty faced pictured of Tim in dresses.

The photos did get put up around the house with Tim's (begrudgingly(willingly)) permission.

Dick wanted him to bleach his hair but he refuses to damage his hair.

But also imagine this:

The older that Tim gets, the blonde comes back. He still looks like his mom, but his slowly starts turning blonde again, and his eyes start having a greener tint/hue to it.

The first to notice was Bart.

Bart was braiding Tim's rather ling hair when he points it out.

"Hey Tim, your hair's got some blonde in it!"

"What?"

Tim runs to the mirror and looks in it. Yep. Sure enough his hair was growing some blonde strands. And now that he looked, his eyes looked more green than it's normal blue.

"Oh my gosh.."

He calls Bruce.

Bruce who was in a JL meeting.

"I'm in a meeting."

"B! Im going blonde again! Ans my eyes! They're turning green!"

Tim says, somewhat panicked, somewhat excited.

Bruce blanks. Because.. what. What do you mean his baby boy, who he loved staring at the blonde and green eyed baby pictures of, was resorting back to that color.

"...really?"

He asks very hesitantly at first.

"Yeah!"

Tim turns his head down, showing his scalp. And there, right there, were several prominent, yet blended, strands of blonde growing in a curl pattern amongst the straight black locks.

Bruce just about cries right then and there.

Because then Tim does a close up of his eyes. And yep. His eyes have a but of green in them.

"That's great, sweetie. But I'm in a meeting right now."

"Oh! Sorry!"

He hangs up.

Bruce doesn't.

He's still stuck on the call smiling like a sappy parent whose kid just did something so small yet so touching. There were tears in his eyes and none of the JL knew what to do.

[romanreignsbae]

Baby Daddy - J.U

A/N: just in favour of our very own main event jey uso winning the royal rumble!!! well deservedly! haters can suck his dick!!

warnings: smut & fluff (hope y’all enjoy!)

Another weekly exchange took place at your home per usual. Every Tuesday Josh would come and pick up your son Elijah until Wednesday evening. Due to his hectic road life, he really only got a day a week to spend time with his son. Josh took every single moment he got with his son, and savoured it. The problems you two had could never come in to say that Josh wasn’t an amazing dad.

Your son Elijah, was the best thing that ever happened to the both of you. You and Josh were high school sweethearts. You never once thought you would get pregnant with his child..at least not anytime soon. But in your last year of college, with a simple week of morning sickness, emotional breakdowns, and crazy cravings, you found out you would now be eating for two. And from there on out it was history.

Josh was ecstatic he was gonna be a father. From a young age he’s always dreamed of being an amazing father. He was even more happier when he found out the two of you would be expecting a boy. He was already picturing throwing around a football with his son, and teaching him all about his samoan family lineage. And even you were ecstatic.

You delivered a healthy baby boy, whom was loved by all the family around him. However for you and Josh, your relationship only weakened from that moment on. Josh was in desperate need of a job, and because of his family background, he turned to wrestling. As much as wrestling was looked at as a glamorous job, it wasn’t all that it seemed. Josh was constantly on the road, and even when he was home, he would be on interview calls or hitting the gym. You on the other hand, were just as busy as Josh. The two of you were constantly on the go and never has time for each other. So you both decided it’d be better if you broke up.

Well, it was you who broke up with Josh. It took a lot of guts to do so, but it had to be done. It was for the better…it seemed. Josh could never take the words ‘broke up’ to his heart, so he used ‘on a break’. You thought it was a immature and delusional way to deny reality, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Dada!” Elijah squealed as Josh walked through the door of your home. “Hey buddy! My mini uce!” Josh spoke back with just as much excitement. Your 2 year old son, ran on wobbly legs towards his daddy. You smiled at the sight. Josh handled Elijah on one hip, while turning to you.

“What’s up Y/n..” he spoke while Elijah was grabbing at his face. “Hey Josh, how are you?” you spoke back nervously avoiding eye contact. The truth was you’d never gotten over Josh. The road broke you two apart, also breaking your heart at the same time. You love Josh with your whole heart to this moment. He was your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first time, and now the father of your child. When you broke up with him, you only broke your own heart too.

Now 2 years later after breaking up with him, you still want him more then ever. “I’m doing alright. Busy ya know. Well ima take Eli…i’ll see you tomorrow when I drop him off..” he told you while turning towards your door but not before grabbing Eli’s bags. “No! Mama! Come with us!” Elijah screamed out while kicking his feet all over the place.

Josh let Elijah down on the floor and he wobbled over to you. “Mama! Come with us to dada house! All of us!” he spoke on the verge of tears. “Baby..it’s dada’s time with you, i’ll see you tomorrow..” you spoke softly while caressing his little chubby cheek. “Please mama!” he cried out. He had never acted this way before.

“Baby..” you started speaking before getting cut off. “Y/n, I don’t mind if you come with us, you know it’s been a while” Josh cut you off. “Yay! See mama come with us!” Elijah then squealed. You thought about being with Josh for a long period of time, and it made you nervous yet excited. But for your baby, you would go.

“Okay, you guys wait in the car i’ll be there in a minute” you spoke softly. After grabbing your bag and some stuff you would need, you made your way out of your home locking the door behind you. You made your way into Joshua’s car, sitting in the passenger seat.

The car ride to Josh’s house was about a hour away, including the busy traffic. Josh blasted music the whole way to his house, to avoid the awkward silence. Elijah was dosing off in the back, and you took small glances at Josh when you got the chance. You felt him staring too, which only added tension.

Without either of you speaking a word to each other the whole ride, you made you way inside Josh’s beautiful beach side mansion. “Wow Josh! This place is beautiful!” you spoke astonished. He smiled at you. “Thanks...coulda been yours too..” he mumbled the last part thinking you didn’t hear. You did hear, loud and clear, which only added to your regret of breaking up with Josh. You knew he missed you, and you knew he still wanted you. You just couldn’t bring yourself to admit the fact you were still in love with him.

The evening was spent with you, Josh, and Elijah playing board games together, sitting together eating dinner, and ended with watching ‘The Lion King’ all together on Josh’s massive L shaped couch.

“He’s asleep” Josh spoke quietly. You looked down to your side to see Elijah fast asleep. “Yeah he is” you agreed. “Lemme go put him in bed, wait here.”

You waited for Josh, wanting to know why he wanted you to wait. You should be back home right now. ‘Aight..” Josh mumbled walking back into the living room, making his presence known.

He sat beside me on the couch and waited a minute before talking. “Y/n..ion even know where to start, there’s so much I have to admit to you..lemme start off by saying, I miss you, a lot.” he admitted.

You softly smiled. You were happy Josh admitted this so now you could get everything off your chest. “Josh, you don’t even know how much I regret breaking up with you back then..we were just in such a bad place and I was so scared that you’d find someone else while you were on the road, and truth is i’ve never stopped loving you..” you admitted.

He smiled at you showing off his pearly whites. “I love you too baby” he leaned in and your lips met for a soft kiss. You felt him grab your hips and pull you on top of his lap. While sensually kissing he moved your hips on top of his in a circular motion, creating friction. You gasped in pleasure softly.

You could feel a tent beginning to grow under you, adding to your pleasure. Josh groaned out. You took charge and pulled back from the kiss. “Life your arms up” you mumbled out of breath. Josh complied, and you took his shirt off.

“You sure?” Josh asked. You needed this desperately. After you broke up with Josh, you had no time to be with anyone sexually, and you missing him didn’t help the matter. “Yes, im positive” you spoke back.

You felt Josh’s hands roaming your clothed body, and he began stripping you piece by piece. Your body shivered at the sudden contact with the cold air. You were now left in only your panties, as Josh was left in his boxers. He once again moved his head down towards mines and shared a passion full kiss. Our tongues fought for dominance in which he won.

He broke away from your lips and peppered kisses on your jaw, then moving to your neck. You were surprised when you felt him sucking extra hard on your sweet spot, even after these few years, he remembered where you were extra sensitive.

“J-josh please!” you squeaked out. He continued his assault on your neck, and you swore you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “What you want mama?” he mumbled. “You..”

He pulled back from your neck and peppered kisses down towards your chest. He grabbed one of your breasts and massaged it in his large hand.

He then lowered his head down and softly took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. You let out a moan to the feeling of his mouth. He did the same with your other breast and peppered kisses down your stomach.

He continued his kisses down to your thighs, once in a while biting down softly causing you to squeal. He was purposely denying the spot your body craved him most. Josh always knew how to drive you insane before finally giving into what you wanted.

He slowly slid your panties off in one swift motion exposing your core to the cold air. Your body was now covered in goosebumps hence the chilliness of the room.

“Missed this pretty pussy..” he mumbled while running his finger through your folds. “Yeah, yeah whatever just-” you were cut off by his head suddenly being pushed between your thighs and his mouth hungrily devouring you. You moaned out in ecstasy. You had almost forgot how talented Josh’s mouth was matched with your lower set of lips.

He sucked hastily at your clit almost sending you over the edge. You began grinding your hips onto his face, causing him to pull away quickly. “Baby if you gon cum its gon be on this dick” he spoke with deep chuckle. You whined at sudden loss of warmth from your lower region.

Josh chuckled at your neediness. As he took off his boxers revealing his hard length. You felt so touch deprived, as you moaned out into the chilly air of the room evoking a deep chuckle from him. “I gotchu baby, I gotchu..”

The tip of his dick slowly stretched you out as you almost practically screamed at the amazing sensation. Josh continued entering inside you at a steady pace allowing you to adjust to the now unfamiliar feeling. Your eyes were droopy as you looked up to see him with his mouth open as his eyes were also fluttering shut. “Damn baby, you always so tight for me, just for daddy..” he barely choked out.

Once he was fully inside you, he began thrusting into you at a very slow pace, prolonging the beautiful orgasm he knew you were on the verge of having. “P- please, daddy..please faster” you asked quietly barely being able to speak.

Without warning Josh began moving at a speed you could barely keep up with, causing you both to moan loudly with pleasure. “We gotta keep it down baby..we don’t want Eli wakin up” he spoke while not once slowing his pace.

The familiar feeling began brewing inside your lower belly, tingling all around signalling you were close. “I’m almost- i’m gonna” you choked out on the verge of tears. You forgot how intense sex was with Josh.

“I know baby, I know..” he mumbled while moving his hand down to playing with your clit sending you straight over the edge. “Fuck Josh!” you wailed as he held you down with his arm as you convulsed.

He continued chasing his own nut at a severe pace, which was slightly overestimating you. Before you could get a word out you felt his warm speed paint the walls of your now swole pussy.

He moved off you, lying down on the couch beside you gathering you in his arms before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you baby, and I want us to be a family this time, for real.”

“Mmm yeah me too, love you Josh..” you whispered as sleep overcame your body, while you slept in the arms of the man you have always and always will love.

[milessunflowers]

Basically reader is head strategist for Mercedes and personally taylor made the strategies for nico and lewis but their fighting is disrupting the statistics even though he's trying to give them the best he can, reader is deeply in love with his bestfriends but neither lewis or nico seem to notice admits their friendship turned almost relationship turned bitter rivalry, its the year before nico wins his championship and its announced that reader is moving to another team (redbull maybe? Or ferrari so its angstyer when lewis moves there) anyway fast foward through out the year its been a grueling battle to win between lewis and nico that nico realizes that they haven't talked to reader since half way into last years season when nico finds out that reader moved teams he's rocked with devastation, anger, grief and a realization that he and lewis are the reason you don't talk to them anymore nico tries to tell lewis but he's just like 'so what? I'm still going to win' and nico stares at him in astonishment not recognizing his former bestfriend and would be lover, flash over to after nico wins the championship he announces he's going to retire before trying to contact reader which reader ignores for six months (lewis is ignoring the lonely feeling in his chest) before he picks up the phone and before nico can talk starts to rant about how reader just wants them to leave him alone that while he loves them and that while he tried to forget his feelings for them he can't but he can no longer be involved in their petty fued, Nico apologizes saying that he's retired and wants to make amends, we then flash foward to the year before lewis wins his seventh win, lewis has seen reader around the paddock but hasn't been able to get him to talk with him lewis has also seen the way nico has cozied up to reader (reader and nico are in a relationship, not that anyone knows that) anyway lewis tries to be friends with reader again (and Definitely more) but reader avoids him which leads him to talking to nico and Reconciling with him first and then with reader (all three of them just having these dinners at restaurants so they could have the closeness they had when they were younger) it takes lewis till 2023 (3 years basically since he won his 7th in 2020) when max wins another championship to both figure out nico and reader are in a relationship (got together 2018) and to realize he's pining for them both (again) cue awkward lewis being given advice from george, who directs him too lando, on advice on how to ask two people who are in a relatioship out (some side george x alex x lando or maybe oscar x lily x lando) anyway lewis asks nico and reader out in winter break where their caught by the media, before that though reader explains to lewis that before he fixed their friendship reader was really hurt that they would put racing over each others lives and that while reader and nico love lewis he needs to promise to that he won't put racing above their relationship and that after 2025 he'll retire wether he wins the championship or not, lewis agrees quickly afraid they'll take it back saying that he felt it was going to be his last year anyway, it ends with lewis winning 2025 and kissing both nico and reader after the last race and announcing he's going to retire.

Holy shite i got really into that, i'm so very sorry, if its too long please just say so.

–🍑

peach i am in awe. this is just, holy fuck

lewis hamilton x race strategist!male!reader x nico rosburg

synopsis: it took them too long to realize how badly they messed up. good thing you are forgiving.

author's note: holy cow this got really long but peach, the details, all of it, was just amazing. you're so creative 🫶🏻 i am living for all this. i did slightly change somethings, i hope you dont mind! feel free to keep requesting!!!

it started out well

like really well

your strategies worked amazing, the boys were performing well

then it went to shit like most things

they started this bitter rivalry that made little to no sense to you

for a while, you thought it was your fault

maybe your stats and strategies weren't right

maybe you weren't doing good with you job

you thought that up until ferrari offered you a job as head strategist

thats when you knew it wasn't entirely your fault

you took the offer proudly

thats when it hit nico how much they took you for granted

you thrived in ferrari while nico and lewis were still fighting with each other

you distanced yourself from that and instead focused on your new job, where you were surpringly happy

like happier than you had been at mercedes (even if lewis and nico weren't there)

it took nico almost a full season to entirely realizes that him and lewis hadn't even attempted to talk to you since they team move

that hit him like a truck

he felt guilty, him and lewis both

they just show it in different ways

once nico finally wins his wdc, he is happy, just not as happy as he would've been if he were still close with you and lewis

he announced his retirement and almost immediately went to reconcile with you

he didn't want to keep things in deep shit with you

he missed you so so much

your smile, your laugh, just you in general

it started slowly with small talk over text before nico just finally apologized for absolutely everything, from essentially blaming you for his rivalry with lewis to ignoring you for almost a year

you apologized for ignoring him too and distancing

from then on, you guys talked every single day

day in and day out

every free minute you two had was spent talking and hanging out

slowly, you guys admit how long you have loved each other for a long time

then boom, you guys got together

but you kept it a secret as you wanted a quiet (or as quiet as possible) life

you still worked hard on strategies

nico was amazing at reporting

you guys were happy together

skip forward a good few years and lewis is so close to winning his seventh wdc

he finally seems to notice the small signs that you and nico were together

that empty feeling returned

he was missing a part of himself without the two of you

he slowly starts to piece together the big puzzle

first with how you and nico seemed to gave been a thing for a while

then how much he missed you guys

then the deep rooted feelings he pushed aside for far to long

then the realization of just how much he need the two of you in his life

he immediately started building up this huge, elaborate, straight from the heart, apology speech he would tell you when he got you guys alone

he already had a plan set in his mind

then he realizes he actually has zero fucking clue what the hell to do

so he goes to the only person he knows that knows anything about this type of situation: george mother fucking russell

of course, george's situation is a little different

he started dating alex first then they basically accidentally added logan into the mix

but the three seemed to be happier than the majority of the people he knew

so he had to take a shot at asking him

turns out, george gives pretty decent advise

so, before going on the date, he needed to patch things up between the three of you

george's words not his

but that's what he does

he convinces both you and nico to talk with him (even brings roscoe because who doesn't love the little chunky monkey?)

you each take turns explaining how you felt

you kick started it by talking about how hurt you had been, not only as a strategist but also they're friend; how you felt like you were to blame for everything; how you didn't feel like they wanted you around anymore

nico already knew all this stuff but he still felt incredibly guilty

imagine how lewis felt

then nico explains how isolated it felt, losing the two people he loved more than anything; how he was so focused on winning that he forgot what was important

for once in years, him and lewis were on the same page

after hours of apologies, catching up, and eventually confessions, things were back to how they used to be years ago

skip to the winter break where you felt like you guys no longer had to hide

you were caught by fans at a restaurant, sharing laughs and some kisses before leaving back to the car, huge grins plastered across your faces

these pictures are posted everywhere

no one is surprised though

ferrari had to have some words with you about pr, same with mercedes for lewis and then sky sports for nico

once again, yall didn't care

skip forward again to lewis announcing he is gonna race for ferrari

bro didn't even tell you and nico

he was just like: "oh by the way-"

you were excited

but you made a deal between the three of you that you would retire and lewis would, regardless of the outcome of the season

the season went well, not exactly how you wanted it but still good enough

your retirement set for the end of the season was announced pretty early on

lewis's was very nico core

just dropped the bomb after the last race

where he just so happened to both you and nico in public

even though he had done it tons of times before

it was still surprising though

suck on that fia

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile

[laurents-laces]

Only 20 days left until TGR! Here's all my rambling that I couldn't fit on a bingo:

Jean just found out about Elodie's death, Jeremy lost his relationship with his sister, and Lucas is about to lose his brother. I think sibling relationships are gonna be really important in this book. I also hope we get to meet Cat's sister Vivi when she drops off the motorcycle for Jean

So excited for exy with the Trojans! I hope they actually take some of Jean's advice because he's really good at seeing people's strengths and weaknesses. And I hope they interact with other teams more than the Foxes do. It would help Jean see that the Trojans are actually pretty normal and the Ravens are the weird ones. He still thinks it's the other way around

Jean thinks of Kevin as Riko's Queen or the Court's Queen a few times in TSC. Does he see that title as a symbol of independence like Kevin does, or does he see it as Kevin still having a place in Riko's perfect court?

I'm obsessed with the way Jeremy narrates events without telling us a single one of his emotions. Does he miss having his little sister in the audience when he plays a big game? Did he have feelings for any of those boys who were "exactly the kind of guy [he] was prone to trip himself up over"? Why hasn't he dated anyone before? He loves USC because it feels private and safe, so does he not feel that way at home?

I need to know what Jeremy's family did to him. He calls his mother the devil and dislikes his last name and gets angry just at the mention of his step grandfather. It's such an extreme reaction from a guy who barely says anything negative about anyone

I feel like Jeremy's family issues are gonna be too weird for anyone to predict. But I think his part of the story is going to be less about redeeming himself from past mistakes and more about letting his friends support him instead of acting like he's fine all the time

I think Jean might really struggle with holding back when they play against more violent teams. Would suck if it costs him a spot on the starting lineup, but maybe it would be good for him to see that there aren't any consequences for failing to be the best

I think Neil and Andrew might be too busy with Aaron's trial to go with Kevin to California but Jean thinks of them too often for them to not be relevant at some point, whether now or in book 3

I think Jean saying he learned the hard way not to look at another man too long has something to do with Kevin and the incident his freshman year. It's really weird that Riko only told Kevin half of the truth of what happened

"You cannot save me from what came before, and you help neither of us by trying to dig up those graves. Leave Evermore to me and Dobson... Help me survive what comes next.” I hope his friends listen to him about this. And I hope he starts actually talking to Betsy. He seems like he wants to, he's just worried it won't actually help

The way Jean describes the people he loves is so intense. We got some really lovely thoughts about Kevin and Renee from him in TSC, and I can't wait to see how he'll be when he gets to know Jeremy better. I don't think they'll be able to beat "you are a pipe dream" but I'd be thrilled to be proven wrong

[yangjungwonisms]

9 days of Yang Jungwon

*In honor of the best boys birthday I’m going to be doing a post a day for 9 days!!

Day 1

Noona?

After pining over you for years Jungwon finally decides the time is right to show you just how much he likes you.

Day 2

Sunday Blues

It’s the end of the weekend for you and Jungwon, something you both dread once it rears its ugly head. Jungwon can’t bring himself to leave you again for the week. An idea pops into his head, one that hopefully means you’ll never have to be apart again

Day 3

Best boy-friend ever

Unbeknownst to you both, you and Jungwon are head over heels for each other. One issue, neither of you can bring yourselves to confess, both too scared to blur the lines between friendship or more. Your friends have grown tired of both of you pretending you’re not in love. They all get together determined to push you two together once and for all

coming soon…

Day 4

Birds of a Feather

You always swore you’d follow Jungwon wherever he went. But what happens when fate is determined to pull you both in different directions. You’re both forced to confront the elephant in the room and confront your own feelings for each other while navigating young adult hood simultaneously.

coming soon…

Day 5

AAA

Who knew a flat tire would lead to Jungwon taking your virginity in the back seat of his car?

coming soon…

Day 6

Seeking shelter

During a snow storm you’re forced to spend the night at your ex boyfriend’s house. The first time the two of you come face to face after the breakup you’re forced to admit how you really feel and the reason for your breakup. Can you two work things out?

coming soon…

Day 7

Dress

A night out on the town with your boyfriend leads to a rather passionate moment in the stairwell of your apartment building. and the elevator. and against the door in your apartment.

coming soon…

Day 8

7 minutes in heaven

Your friends tired of hearing you and Jungwon fight with each other over a small misunderstanding they rig a game of spin the bottle which results in you two being locked in the closet until you work things out

coming soon…

Day 9

It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to

Resigned to spending another birthday alone, Jungwon is pleasantly surprised when you and his friends throw him a birthday party. Over hearing you and another friend’s conversation Jungwon realizes just what’s at stake for him here. He may be forced to confront his feelings for you after all, changing the course of your relationship forever

coming soon…

[chimivx]

gimme gimme gimme 4 -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

wc: 9.9k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 2/2/25 12:30 pm est.

masterlist ~ <- previous part - next part ->

Standing in the middle of the dance floor, sweaty, drunk bodies bumping into you, you peer up from your phone and attempt to accept the fact that Aurora walked away from you. That she left you alone. That what you had done, or been caught doing, had upset her, had hurt her.

A conversation shared between you and Yunho, nothing more, not even a singular touch, a mere brush to a shoulder. You spoke words, you heard some you weren’t expecting to hear, he shared things with you that you should take directly to your boyfriend because it meant that maybe somehow, someway, their relationship was fixable.

He was over in the corner, where Aurora escaped to. They were all over there. You couldn’t see them over the crowd, the people dancing, but they were there. And you wished nothing more than to be able to walk out of here without any of them spotting you. Not one ounce of your being longed to push through the sea of bodies to join the group, but you knew you had to.

Mingi was over there, and you really should be the first one to tell him you spoke with Yunho. After what’s happened within the last few days you weren’t sure your relationship could withstand another hit before one wasn’t even fully patched up. You’d fix it. You would take the time to fix it, you had to talk to him, had to work it out, let him know that everything was good, that you two were okay, that everything would be alright, that you would make it through this, that it was you and him, Tori and Mingi.

Tears brimmed your eyes, but you blinked them away, tipping your chin up so they wouldn’t roll down your cheeks like one already had.

You took a peek at your phone screen and the message on it. Turning around, searching for Jongseob, he was still at the table with his friends. Continuing in a circle, twirling perfectly under the dim lights, you spotted the back of Yunho’s head still sitting at the bar. Locking your phone, you shoved it back into your purse and sighed. 

Whoever this was, you were going to catch them, for no reason other than to get rid of the feeling within you. The need to know. Whoever it was, they knew you, because your curiosity overwhelmed you.

Lurking back toward the corner, stepping around people too wrapped up in their own drama to pay attention to you, your arm grazed over Mingi’s where he stood at the end of the bar, his large frame leaning against it. The boys stood around him, Wooyoung, Yeosang, who gave you a wave, Seonghwa, Soul, Jongho, they all had a drink in their hands, even the twenty year old. Across from them, tucked away in the booth mere inches from where the boys stood, the girls squished together, and your stomach sunk. 

On the end, facing Jongho with her attention turned to Keni and Jeongyeon, Yuna sat with her legs crossed, her fingers tracing lines in the glass she acquired from the bar earlier, still half full. You’ve finished a whole other one by now. She smiled with Keni, nudging her arm as they spoke, doing her absolute best to make sure that the two newest within the group felt welcomed, felt like they belonged. Keni’s been around since the start of junior year, but her and Yeosang’s relationship was fresh, much like Yuna and Jongho’s, and Jongyeon and Ryujin, who had an Aurora under her arm at the other end of the rounded booth.

Appearing in the dim light, some of it flashing over you, Ryujin glanced your way, her brows in a straight line, her hand grasping Aurora’s arm tight. From beside you, Mingi watched, looking down at you, you could feel his eyes. He wanted you to look back at him, but there were more serious matters at hand. 

You needed to talk to Aurora before she told any of them.

You also had to come up with a better argument as to why you sat down next to him and talked to him.

Closure didn’t cut it, at least not with Aurora.

Truthfully, you didn’t even want the closure. You wanted things to go back to the way they were, Yunho should be over here, not at the bar by himself wallowing in miserableness while the rest of you laughed the night away without him.

“Here!” Jeongyeon shouted over the music, flinging her arm in front of Ryujin and Aurora, a phone in her hand. Both girls glanced at it. “It’s Isla,” she said, and they gasped at once.

Pulling her arm off of Aurora, Ryujin snatched her cell phone and opened the messages, typing back to her best friend. Yours smiled at the phone for a second, then fled to the safety of her apparent boyfriend's arms, using Seonghwa’s chest for leverage as she almost veered sideways on her way to Wooyoung’s outstretched hand that beckoned her closer.

The spot beside Ryujin was free, calling your name.

Peeking to your left, Mingi smiled at you, perking a questioning brow as the softness slowly bled into a sly smirk. Taking a breath, you gave him the smallest smile, then hurried into Ryujin’s side, bumping into her, making her bump into her girlfriend. 

Leaning towards her, trying to catch a glimpse at the screen, the messages they were sending that had everything to do with Vernon, or how she was doing, or what their travel was like, you bit down on your lip, and asked, “How’d you do it?”

Ryujin sent a message. “Do what?”

“Adjust,” you gestured to her phone.

She shot you a look, her round face incredibly confused beneath her piecey bangs. “To Vernon?”

“No,” you breathed through a laugh, then thought about it. “Maybe.” There’d been more to it than boyfriends, girlfriends, anything of that sort. “To all of it,” you said, meeting her gaze, “Her leaving, the way she left…”

“You think she’s adjusted?” Jeongyeon leaned toward you over her girlfriend's lap. Ryujin tipped her chin back, shook her head and laughed.

You wanted to smile, but it wouldn’t manifest. “So, it never ends?”

Ryujin scoffed, looking over at you. “It’s not that it never ends, it gets easier, you just gotta… Focus on what you do have.”

“And that happened with Isla?” you asked with a raise of your brows. “You focused on what you do have and you magically got over everything that happened to us?” Jeongyeon focused on her girlfriend, sliding an arm around her back to hold her while Ryujin studied you.

“What goes on Tor? Asking for a friend?” She attempted to read you, but you knew with Ryujin that it was hard for her to do that with any of you that weren’t Isla.

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “Totally.”

She shook her head once. “I didn’t get over it, it sucks. I miss her every damn day, but she’s happy. She’s safe. Am I supposed to make her feel bad for doing what’s best for her just because I get sad that she’s not here?”

Her words struck you across the face. Keeping the feeling within you, not letting it leak outward, you frowned. “No, I just… I don’t know.”

“She’s sick,” Ryujin said in a way to back up what she said, not to insinuate that you didn’t know. Everyone knew. “I have to put that first. And, I can still talk to her whenever I want. I know she’s okay, she’s with Vernon, she’s with DK. Our time at Nasara with Isla is over, my time at Nasara is over, it’s time to move on.”

Your lips parted, and she waited patiently for you to speak. It took you a few seconds, but you managed to whisper, “What if I don’t wanna move on?”

She answered fast, like she somehow knew what you were going to say, her head jerking around with a sureness to it. “Personally, I don’t wanna stay stuck in a place that made me miserable. It’s cliche, but that chapter is closed. I have Jeongyeon, I have a job, I have you, I have them,” she gestured to the group in front of her, the girls beside her, “I gotta hold onto you guys, I can’t make it to the next step without you. So, yeah, I miss Isla, I miss last year, and the year before that, but if I want to feel better, I have to keep going. Gotta protect what I do have in front of me.” She held your heavy gaze, both of your eyes wide, full of genuinity. “If I stay stuck I risk losing it all. I’m willing to make sacrifices for the people I love.”

Gulping, attempting to swallow away your tears that threatened to spill over once again, you tore your eyes from her and glanced over to Mingi. Smiley Mingi resting against the bar, laughing with his friends, teasing one another, sipping their beers. He caught onto your gaze mid laugh, his grin faltering as he drank in your energy. Eyebrows nestling over his shining eyes, two fingers lifted off of the bottle he held and waved you over to him, your body listening without a second thought.

Melting into him, wrapping your arms around his waist, you laid your head on his chest. His heartbeat in your ear, something steady, something absolute, something real. Taking a step away from the boys with you in tow, he rested his cheek over your hair, his hands slow dancing over your back, smoothing over your arms, tickling then soothing your skin. 

But, I still care, Tori.

His words had made your head dizzy. The longer they stayed there, the worse they felt. You could easily get rid of them by looking up at your boyfriend and telling him, but you couldn’t explain yourself. Not yet. Pressed to his chest you looked over to your friends and sighed. Aurora watched you, her own head pressed to Wooyoung's shoulder, one of his fingers twirling around in her hair while he talked to Jongho. It didn’t kill you, her stare, but you couldn’t figure it out.

I still care.

[ITZ]: did u figure me out 

[you]: no, asshole.

[ITZ]: oh

[you]: how the fuck would i be able to figure you out

[ITZ]: thought it was obvious

[ITZ]: guess i have to try harder now

You slapped your phone down onto your bare thigh startling Yuna who lounged beside you, her legs tangled with your own. Head laid back on the stitched pillows, she groaned and tapped you with a pedicured foot, running her hand over her forehead.

Yeosang and Ryujin may or may not have forced you all into a rally last night soon after you rejoined the group.

Everyone’s here now! Go, go, go! You have to do it, we just graduated, we’re not coming back! Do it!

Yuna’s been a mess since the first round of shots.

“Cheers is a good time, we’ll go back,” Seonghwa’s voice carried into the living room from the kitchen, three of them puttering around in there, eating no doubt. Peering over the back of the sofa you spotted Soul rocking back and forth on his feet behind Seonghwa who faced Hongjoong, the former president in clothes you’d rarely see him in, a plain black t-shirt and shorts. 

Hongjoong had his body turned to Seonghwa, the two with a foot of space between them, their hands going in and out of the bag they snacked from at the same time. “There’s one on the beach called Wave,” he popped his brows, gaze locked on the boy that appeared a foot taller in front of him, “Have you gone there yet?”

Soul gasped, his hands slapping onto the counter. Both boys turned to him, smiles appearing on their faces. “I’ve been there! They won’t card you.”

Hongjoong tilted his head and gave Seonghwa a look. “Course they won’t,” he breathed, the two sharing a laugh. 

Soul beamed. “Me, Seob, Intak, Jiung.” Your nervous system jolted as you looked at him. “We’ve been there so many times, it’s a blacklight bar, it’s so dark, but it gets so hot, it’s kinda small, but so cool.”

Seonghwa gave him a soft smile. “So cool,” he repeated, and Soul nodded.

Then, he looked at you.

“Let’s go tonight,” you said as soon as he met your eyes. 

Yuna groaned from the pillows. “I can’t do another night out, Tor, not in a row.”

You painted your face bored, glaring down at her, one she didn’t see with her eyes screwed shut. “Come on, we should be going out! We’re here, let’s do it.”

Seonghwa hummed, his shoulders shrugging. “We have like two weeks left.”

You shifted your glare over to him and he seemed to match it. “I wanna go,” you said, peeking at Soul who now leaned over the counter on his elbows, watching you. “Soul wants to go.”

“Soul wants to go where?” Aurora asked, bouncing off of the last step of the stairs, sleep all over her face. Wooyoung, her shadow with the hood of his sweatshirt over his tousled waves, didn’t deter from the path written for him by her. 

But he did look at you. 

And it hurt.

“Wave, a bar on the beach,” Seonghwa spoke for the boy, following the couple with his eyes as they wandered through the kitchen, gave mediocre hello’s to Hongjoong and met Souls side.

Yuna tapped you with her foot, pulling your attention from the kitchen. She’d seen Wooyoung’s face. “What was that for?” she asked, brows pulled over her wide eyes. Appeasing her with a subtle shake of your head for now, you turned back to the kitchen. Aurora, at Souls side, nearly pressing herself against him, listened to him with a smile.

“Not just a bar…” He went on and on, and the world moved around him. Seonghwa and Hongjoong ate their snacks, Wooyoung slid an open water bottle in front of Aurora, Yuna watched Soul half impressed. It was the most half of you have probably heard him speak, ever. He spilled stories, moments in time that appeared to make him happy, stories of Jongseob and their friends, the four of them sneaking out of his parents beach house to get plastered under the neon lights half clothed because the air grew so warm. “Tori wants to go tonight,” he ended with a smile flashed in Wooyoung and Aurora’s direction, the two of them posted up on either side of him.

She looked at you, nothing on her face yet.

“San and Hongjoong did just get here, we could give them a night out,” she offered.

Yuna groaned, obnoxious and long. “I can’t do it again!” Her body jolted as she shook herself around, jostling yours with her. “Somebody agree with me, please!” 

You laughed, putting your hands over her ankles to calm her. “It’ll be fun, come on.”

“Maybe one night here won’t kill us,” Aurora said definitively, and all of the energy seemed to be sucked from the room. “We can do Wave another night.” Paralyzed in place, you whipped your head in her direction, instant steam pouring from your ears. As if she could see it, she mirrored your piercing glare. Wooyoung leaned into her, a whisper falling from his lips for only her to hear.

“Amen,” Yuna sighed, going still, relaxing back onto the sofa, her arms going limp off the edge of the cushions.

“Sure, okay,” you scoffed, and no one reacted. They all went about what they were doing before, snacking, sipping water, mumbling to each other, sharing small smiles. “Fuck me, let’s all just do what Aurora says.”

Yuna lifted her head, her lips parting, but no words came out. In the kitchen, Seonghwa paused, his eyes on you. In fact, everyone's eyes were on you, even Hongjoong, the tiniest smirk pulling at his lips.

Her eyes burned. If looks could kill you’d be a goner.

Regret filled your gut, your insides actively spinning in a circle, tangling together, squeezing and pulling.

She opened her mouth, her words like a knife cutting through the air that had grown thick in the worst way. “You can do whatever you want, Tori. You wanna go to Wave? Go to Wave. Free will, clearly you have plenty of it.”

Wooyoung moved behind her, an arm sliding around her front. “Okay,” he whispered, “No, no.” No one else moved, they either stared at you or Aurora, waiting for more. Without another word from her, she let Wooyoung walk her away, she let him hold her metaphorical earrings, ones he put back in by ushering her out of the room.

“What happened?” Yuna asked you within a whisper, sitting up on her elbows. You spared her half a glance before focusing on Soul.

“Oh, you guys have fun,” Hongjoong snickered with a shake of his head.

Souls gaze danced about the room before he said, “So, no Wave?” Seonghwa hit him across the shoulder and the boy cracked a laugh. “Right,” he breathed, then made it a point to look at you and shrug his gangly shoulders. 

The front door swung open and the room fell back to normal in an instant, Yuna sprawled on the couch, the boys in the kitchen chattering away. Leaving the door open behind them, their arms full of cardboard cases and trembling glass bottles, Mingi and Jongho strut through the living room and straight back into the kitchen, Jongho stopping by the couch first to greet his girlfriend, leaning over her to press a kiss to her forehead where she laid, boxes in hand and all. Mingi went to the kitchen.

“We found all they had,” he said to Seonghwa, cocking his head to the side. “They said they’ll have more next week.” Jongho met him at the counter, sliding his box next to Mingi’s.

“That’s fine,” Seonghwa shrugged, taking in what liquor they’ve bought, the beers that still rattled. “They take my card?” Mingi smiled, slid his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, and slapped the black card onto the marble. “Thanks,” Seonghwa nodded, placing it between his fingers.

While Mingi turned around to find you, Jongho unloaded the bottles one by one, the three in the kitchen falling into a discussion about what they found and where. Listening to him, Seonghwa handed the credit card to Hongjoong who reached for it, but as his tiny fingers grazed the edge of it, the eldest pulled it away and smirked, not even giving his former president a glance. Nodding along with Jongho, Seonghwa placed the card between his teeth and laughed as Hongjoong huffed and snatched it away, pulling out a thin wallet from his pocket to slide the card into.

Mingi, happy as clam, peered out into the living room and smiled at you. Hitting you with a wink, one that would normally make you giggle, he hurried over to your side and squatted down behind the couch, half of him still towering over it. Taking a second to read your face, the tension in your brows, he pouted.

“Something happen?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked softly, tilting his head ever so slightly. Narrowing your eyes at the question, at his need to question, he backtracked. “I mean, let’s talk about it.”

“Go help Jongho,” you whispered, gesturing to the boy unloading the bottles with your chin.

“Right,” Mingi mumbled, blinking fervently, “Okay, I’ll be back.”

Yuna screwed up her face and wiggled her feet. “How long have you guys been having problems?” Turning to her quickly, peeling your eyes from Mingi’s toned middle, you laughed to yourself. “I didn’t feel it till now. Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” you said, looking back into the kitchen at Soul now organizing beers in the fridge. He turned with focused brows to grab more, but looked at you first. He hesitated, smiled, then went on his way, grabbing onto bottles that Mingi set out for him. “You know his other friends are staying down the street? Jongseob has a house.”

Yuna blinked. “That sleazy blonde one?”

“He’s not… Okay, yeah.” Thoughts of last night haunted your brain. Sleazy wasn’t too far off.

“Did not know that,” Yuna muttered, dragging a finger over her eyebrows to soothe the ache you know was pounding them. “How do you know that?”

You eyed Seonghwa and Hongjoong, how they drew closer and closer together while the other three moved around the kitchen. “He was in Cheers last night, I talked to him.”

“The lowerclassmen are hilarious,” Yuna said. “Some of our girls are down here too. I don't wanna know what happens in that house.”

You shot her a smirk. “You know what’s happening in that house, we were them. Ror isn’t the only one who’s slept with more than one of them.” Laughing aloud, catching Jongho’s attention, the boy spinning around with a smile on his face, Yuna kicked you and the mention of her and San’s freshman year once upon a time.

“You should’ve seen Jongho’s face the last time that got brought up,” she sighed, both hands sliding over her face. “He gets so jealous, it’s so hot.”

Your eyes fell over Mingi. He’s never gotten jealous, only protective. Confronting Jongseob he would put him in his place, then leave it all be. He wouldn’t attach himself to you, get more clingy, or whine about you talking to him. Confident in himself, as he should be, Mingi never felt the need to prove himself if another guy came onto you, or flirted with you. He’d assert his dominance to the guy, then move on almost as if it had never happened, never acknowledging it again until there were repeat offences.

It’s not that you wanted Mingi to be jealous, you didn’t want that type of toxicity in your relationship regardless of how harmless it’d be, but something about your man doting on you a little extra to show how much he loved you wouldn’t hurt. 

Wooyoung and Aurora made their way back into the room, Aurora dragging him along by the hand behind her. The dynamic fascinated you as much as it frustrated you, how Wooyoung could go along with everything she wanted, everything she said, at the snap of her fingers. He listened to her, he knew what she needed before she knew she needed it. Always one step ahead though it appeared like she ran the show. He simply let her think that. He didn’t have to prove he knew something before her, he didn’t gloat when he tended to her, he didn’t show off for her sake.

That was what you and Mingi had, you think, at some point. You remember it, but instead of one step ahead the two of you walked in time, side by side. 

Now it felt as though every other day one of you was tiptoeing while the other ran marathons, sometimes not even in the same direction.

Taking a deep breath, standing to retreat to your bedroom, you unlocked your phone and opened your messages. No bars were happening tonight, you knew that much, no matter how much you’d fight it. Trailing up the stairs slowly, you typed out a message and hit send. Little to no remorse settling within you.

[you]: come over tonight.

Wobbling into a sophomores shoulder in the platform sandals Yuna wore to the bar last night, you ignored the kid's mumble of frustration and then his apology when he realized who he was speaking to. Or, trying to speak to. Glued to your phone, your nose nearly pressed to the screen, you grunted with frustration, mimicking the sophomore you bumped into.

No answer.

The phone number didn’t answer you. The person didn’t answer. The guy left you on delivered. He was smart too, he didn’t have his read receipts on. He didn’t have his location on. He was simply a number on a screen. For all you know you could be texting one of your professors, or worse, Seonghwa’s uncle.

Venturing into the kitchen, yanking open the fridge that had been ravaged for the last hour since the party started up, you reach for a can of fruity bubbles and crack it open, closing the fridge with your foot. Turning, you looked out into the living room over several heads to find more heads. Voices filled the space, some familiar and some unknown, the brothers and sisters of the fraternity and sorority bringing extra’s along since they could actually get into this party. 

Everyone in bathing suits or summer clothes, they radiated sunshine energy, a much different feeling than whatever got conjured up in the houses at Nasara. Dancing to the music, singing along, gossiping with friends, flirting with someone across the room, stealing spots on sofas to make out, it comforted you. This felt normal. It would be normal. It should be normal.

Your eyes wanted to find him. You wanted to lock gazes with him across the room and know.

You typed out a message after a gulp of your drink and sent it, whipping your head back up to scan the open space flooded with bodies.

[you]: are you here?

You waited. Meeting eyes with ample people you barely recognized, ones that recognized you, you didn’t stop scouring. If Jongseob was here, he’d be easy to spot, you’d just have to look for two boys sucking up to him and he’d be in between them. If Yunho was here, he’d also be easy to spot, you’d just have to look for a boy as tall as your boyfriend most likely standing alone.

Behind you, San and Wooyoung stepped into the kitchen, the two leaping off the stairs to the second floor bar where more hoards of people lingered. Peeking over your shoulder, you met San’s eyes, his pure, lust fueled, dark chocolate eyes. Wooyoung had an arm slung over his shoulder, his entire side pressing against the wider, stockier boy, speaking to him in whispers with his gaze fixed on San’s face. He didn’t care that he wasn’t looking at him, as long as he was grasping whatever Wooyoung said to him. 

A smirk grew on his lips, his perfect pink lips that sat perched on his smooth, cream colored skin. Snaking a hand up to hold beneath Wooyoung’s jaw, he turned to him and mumbled, “Find me in ten.” Wooyoung hurried off without sparing you a single glance, but he knew you were there. As soon as San released him he was off, disappearing into the crowd. 

Searching through the fridge, San emerged with a can in his hand, one he cracked open as he swaggered up to you, dressed exactly how you’d envision him to dress for tonight. Short, black trunks cut off halfway at his thigh and a matching button down hanging open, exposing his broad, toned chest and torso, one you guarantee has been felt up already by curious hands.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he said to you with a wink, throwing an arm around you, pulling you in for the tightest hug. Your arms wrapped around him, the boy a solid mass of muscle. Pulling away from you he took one hand to your cheek and squeezed it. “How are you?” he asked with a soft smile, dipping his chin down.

“I’m alright,” you said, and he hummed immediately in disapproval. 

“Mm, no you’re not,” he said. San and Wooyoung were parallels in the way they could read energy, both of them incredibly emotionally intelligent, both of them using it in their own way, San mostly for his own advantage. Lifting his eyes above your shoulder, to someone a few inches taller than himself, his smile grew. “What’s wrong with her, Mingi?”

Your boyfriend draped a hand over one of your shoulders, his fingers squeezing you ever so slightly. Giving him a quick look, his obvious unease forcing you to look back at San who watched you, Mingi said, “She wanted to go out tonight, but the party’s here.”

San’s eyes sparkled, his smirk one you’ve seen before, but never been on the receiving end of. “She needs an orgasm.”

“San!” you shouted, laughter erupting out of you as you stretched out your arms to give him a gentle push.

Smile growing, dimpling his cheeks, he said, “Go make her cum Mingi,” then he winked at you, “Or go rub one out for me and come back.”

“Bro,” Mingi spat.

“San!” you shouted again, bouncing your knees, reaching back to place your hand over Mingi’s. Trying to tangle your fingers with his, he pulled away, tucking his hand in his pocket.

“I’m kidding,” he said, looking between you and your boyfriend, “I’m busy anyway, I won’t be able to fit you in tonight.” Tapping you on the nose with his finger, he circled around you and threw a hand behind Mingi’s head, pulling him down easily, planting a sloppy kiss to his cheek just beside his lips. Pushing him away, jumping backward as much as he could’ve, but not with much persistence, Mingi wiped at his cheek and missed how San snickered as he walked off, head held high, chest puffed.

Spinning to face Mingi, you smiled up at him and said, “He was kidding by the way.”

“Did you tell him or something?”

Your stomach dropped. “No! I didn’t… I didn’t tell anyone.”

Mingi, a frown pulling at his lips, bobbed his head. “Right.”

Reaching out to grab onto his bicep, he glanced down at it. “Don’t let it bother you.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” he spat, flashing a glare your way, “That happens sometimes. I would understand, I would’ve done something else. You lied to me.”

Pressing your lips together tight, you took a breath and shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He stared at you in disbelief, as if reliving the night. “You think I have sex with you just to get off?”

“No,” you said, rushed, “You don’t, we don’t-”

“You know what it means to me,” he said. “How important it is to me, I don’t care how pussy I sound right now, Tori, that’s me giving myself to you. That’s me loving you. That’s time when I can really show you just how much you mean to me, where I can tell you and show you how much I love you. I never did hook up culture, you know that… I can imagine it feels alot like that night, right?” 

Everything that came out of him, the absolute truth. Mingi didn’t spend his high school years like most, he found himself in relationships, long term, much like the one you shared with him now. He didn’t kiss and tell, he didn’t flaunt around about how many girls he’s slept with, that number wasn’t even high, when he shared it with you in the start of your time together you were shocked. He knew you were something special, something to hold onto, because from the beginning you’d both be diving head first into bed. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t feel anything, he wouldn’t have, like he said, given himself to you if he didn’t see you sticking around in his life long term.

“I love you, Mingi, I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Rolling his eyes, he pushed by you with a huff. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

A shorter than Mingi, scrawnier than Mingi looking sophomore or junior pushed him back toward you, but paid no mind to him, like your tower of a boyfriend didn’t exist. Edging the counter, posting himself directly in front of you, he wore a smile, one showing off his pristine, shining white teeth. They were fake. They weren’t his. They couldn’t have been.

“Hey, you’re Tori, aren’t you?” he laughed, keeping something to himself. Raising your brow at him, you shared a look with Mingi, but he didn’t reciprocate, he was focused on this boy. “Vice President of ITZ?”

“Yes,” you said, tone flatter than it’d be if you were talking to Jongseob in front of Mingi. “Can I help you?”

The boy checked you out, his eyes glazing over your body, your bikini peeking out of the lacey cover up you had slipped on over top of it. Mingi watched him do so, and you wanted ever so badly for him to grab you, to hold you, to get jealous.

“Seob told me all about you,” the boy said, blinking his crystal blue eyes toward you. “Guess he wasn’t lying.”

Cheeks flushing before they turned pink, you sighed heavily and tossed your hair over your shoulder. “He- He, what?”

“Get out of here,” Mingi grumbled. The boy jumped, your boyfriend's deep voice startling him.

Looking up at him, he tried to laugh. “Who are you?”

Mingi looked at you. You looked at Mingi. Rage brimmed his expression, the sheer mention of Jongseob’s name threatening to send him reeling. That and the fact that this kid didn’t know who he was speaking to. A very important member of ATZ. His eyes bore into yours, for too long, before you realized he wanted you to answer his question.

“M-my boyfriend,” you said, stuttering as you did. Mingi rolled his eyes. A wave of shame flooded your senses. You wanted to run. “His name is Mingi,” you tried to recover, “On the board of ATZ, you a member?” The boy eyed him, then shook his head toward you. “Then why are you here?”

He winked at you. “Jongseob brought me.”

He was here.

“Well, you can leave me alone now,” you said to him, glancing up at Mingi who stood around to hear the end. “And don’t tell him where I am.”

You were the first to turn around, the first to walk away. Leaving Mingi behind who walked away the second you left, you hurried through the crowd, drink in hand, gulping it down as you elbowed past groups and teetered over people on the floor. Jongseob had been running his mouth, to people you didn’t even know. Either that or his friends were telling their friends, which meant that other people besides you, Jongseob, Jiung and Intak knew what happened last night at Cheers. Other people knew what he said to you.

Other people knew what you didn’t choose to stop.

Your cheeks burned, your stomach lurched, the urge to vomit so strong out of pure panic, embarrassment, you couldn’t place it. Every wrong feeling one could feel, you held it in your chest, your shaking hands, your tipsy feet. Hands landing on the back door, you scrambled for the handle and tugged it open, the panels of glass becoming one to allow you outside onto the deck where people and couples lined the railings or sat on the cushions, joints or cigarettes passed around as you flew by, your platform sandals thumping on the stairs that led down to the sand.

A mile further and you’d be on the beach, but down here, on the sand behind the dunes, there lived a fire pit, one lit and burning just as hot as you were internally. Few people sat around it in beach chairs low in the sand, a couple lost in their own whispers, cuddled into one another, a pair of friends sharing a vape, and a loner with a beer in his hands.

Circling the bonfire, he looked up at you and you froze.

“Tori?”

“Yunho,” you breathed.

Something of a laugh tumbled out of him. “We can’t keep meeting like this,” he muttered sarcastically. He trained his gaze on the fire in front of him, sipping his beer occasionally. “You look upset. Again.”

“Again?” you asked within a scoff.

He hit you with a side eye. “You weren’t supposed to talk to me last night, were you?”

“It’s not like that,” you said.

Yunho faced the fire, sitting backward in his chair, his long, bare legs extending in front of him. “Sure it isn’t. I’ve seen her make that face before, it was like she caught her boyfriend with Yeji all over again.” 

His words made you shiver. “Don’t talk about that.”

He smiled, but he didn’t look at you. “Noted,” he said quietly, gesturing to the chair beside him with his beer. “Take a seat, you look like you need to unload.”

“Not with you,” you spat involuntarily. That got him to look up at you, the surprise on his face worsening the feeling within you. “Yunho,” you sighed, pressing the hand that wasn’t gripping your can to your face.

“Nah, I get it,” he nodded. “Your allegiance lies elsewhere, you can’t be seen with me. You’ve already been caught once, the council will behead you if they catch you again.” 

As horrific as it sounded, he made you laugh, the sarcasm dripping in his knowing tone forcing it out of you against your will. He was good for that, talking himself out of things, covering everything up with humor, self-deprecating so you’d forget about your own bullshit even if just for a second. His thing with Aurora truly came as no surprise to you.

“She won’t let me talk to her about it,” you said, taking your hand from your face, revealing to him your fading smile. He swallowed his own and nodded, listening. “I tried, but…”

“She wouldn’t have it,” he finished for you. 

Releasing a breath, you whispered, “Yeah.”

“What did you tell her?” he asked.

“That I… That I needed Yunho closure,” you said, voice smaller than ever.

He blinked, looked up at you and asked, “And what did she say to that?”

“What do you need Yunho closure for, none of us have Yunho closure.”

Quiet, processing what you’ve said, the corners of his lips began to perk up. Turning to the fire, he sipped his beer and tilted his head seemingly happily. 

“What?” you questioned, taking a step toward him.

Yunho shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me. What did that just make you think of?”

He glanced toward you with a smile, then faced forward. “That everything is open ended right now.”

Twisting your brow, you took another step toward him. “Explain.”

“Everything is open ended,” he shrugged, turning completely in his chair to look up at you, his eyes appearing wider than usual, more bright, glistening against the flames to his right and the moon above him. “Closure, she didn’t like how it sounded. When you told her that’s what you were getting, it upset her. The Aurora I know would’ve yelled at you when she caught you, especially if she’d been drinking. Did she yell at you? No. I didn’t even hear her yell after you walked away either.”

“Yunho, Wooyoung’s been really good with her,” you said just above a whisper. He snapped his jaw shut. “You know him. He’s rubbed off on her. The Aurora we know, or used to know, she’s different. After last year, the bullshit? It changed her.”

He thought to himself, his genius brain making marks you couldn’t see, solving equations only he’d put together. “But, still, if she-”

“She was angry, Yunho,” you said, and he met your gaze. “Just a different kind of angry.”

Nibbling his bottom lip, a breeze blew his dusty colored hair over his forehead. “I know her, Torilynn,” he whispered. “And it’s open ended.”

Groaning, your phone vibrated at the same time making you jump. Fumbling to open it, you mumbled, “Yunho, she’s… Damn.” You hurried for a notification from Instagram. A few drinks deep and you’ve forgotten that you silenced his incoming messages. You swiped into the thread with still no reply to your last message.

“What happened?” Yunho asked, pulling you from your screen. His eyes flickered between the cell phone in your hand and your eyes.

“I”m being ignored,” you said. 

“By who, everyone’s here,” he smiled, narrowing his eyes.

Through a sigh, you whispered, “I don’t…” but stopped yourself, shooting him a look.

Raising a brow, Yunho sipped his beer. His smile settled into a smirk. “You don’t know?” Your blood ran cold, as it seemed to do now in his presence. “Is that what you were gonna say?”

“...No.”

His eyes ate you alive, curious, yet knowing all at the same time. “Okay,” he said after a beat of silence, slowly turning back in his chair before your question pulled him back in.

It came out of you in a whisper. “Are you the one texting me?”

He sat forward, elbows on his bare knees, delighted as he looked up at you. “What are you talking about?”

“The messages,” you still spoke no louder than a whisper. “The unknown number, they’ve been here in Haos the whole time, they know about me, they know who I am, is it you?” He laughed. “And don’t bullshit me, because you repeated something they said verbatim, Yo.”

His eyes bugged out of his head, his laughter growing louder. “I did? How!”

Throwing your hands out to the side, some of your drink spilled from the can. “I dunno, you tell me! How are you texting me from an unknown number when I have your number!”

“I’m not texting you, Tori!” He slapped both his hands to his chest, beer bottle in grip. “I wouldn’t know how to do that, I… I wouldn’t wanna do that, no offense.” A weight felt like it’d been lifted from your shoulders. “It’s not me, I swear to you.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned yourself around and soaked in the sights. The sand stretching on forever, the stars and the moon in the sky, the house pulsing with life, the fire warming your exposed skin. Sipping your drink that was half warm, you cringed and shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, good to know,” you said, and he laughed.

“How long has this been happening?” he asked.

“Since we got here,” you muttered. “Our first night here, we literally just walked in the house and he told me he knew I was here.”

Yunho raised a brow. “He? You know this person is a guy?”

You looked at him for two seconds, then stared at the fire. “Yeah…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been talking to this person… To him.”

“Maybe I have,” you whispered, sipping your drink.

Yunho fell back in his seat and laughed. “Tori! Does anybody know about this?”

Thinking to yourself, already knowing the answer, you hit him with a glare before mumbling, “No.”

Dragging a hand through his hair, his veiny, slender, pretty fingers dancing through the overgrown strands, he sighed, blinking up at you. The roundness of his eyes, the curve of his nose, things you haven’t taken the time to notice before, they were endearing. Tongue poking between your lips, you pressed your can to them and sipped your drink, the two of you maintaining eye contact that made your stomach twist.

“Tori,” he said, clearing his throat. Ripping his gaze from you, he focused down on the sand. “Don’t keep this from them. Rory, and Mingi. They’re your best friends, go tell them. They can help you figure it out.”

Clenching your jaw, you nearly crushed the can in your hand as your grip tightened around it. Yunho’s eyes flickered to it before they were on yours again. “But, if I do, then they’ll see what I said to him.”

“What did you say to him?” Yunho asked in a way that made it seem as though you should be incriminated. 

Shrugging, you finished off your drink. “Just, stuff.” 

“Jesus, Tor,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “You have any ideas on who you think it could be?”

“Possibly,” you said, crinkling the can, tossing it into the fire. Yunho watched it, the metal shriveling up within the flames. 

“And will it end well if it’s who you think it is?” he asked, eyes lit up by flames.

Folding your arms over your chest, you smiled to yourself. “No. No it won’t.”

Commotion stirred on the deck above you, voices got louder, some people shouted. Tipping your chins up, both you and Yunho, you're greeted by a head peering over the edge to look at you at the same time. Warm blonde hair, honey skin and a sleazy smile.

“There she is,” Jongseob sang. Intak appeared beside him, a laugh falling from him when he spotted you. Jongseob elbowed him away as his eyes shifted over to Yunho. “Hangin’ with him again?” Sipping his beer, Yunho nearly choked on it.

“Keep my name out of your mouth,” he spat, pointing up at the twenty year old. 

“Why, ‘cause it’s too busy in everyone else’s?” Jongseob snickered, and Yunho looked away with a groan. “Come take shots with me, Tori,” he said with a slight pout on his lips. “These losers won’t leave me alone. Save me.” Various ‘hey’s’, and ‘asshole’, sounded off from the boys around him, people he called friends. Jongseob swatted a hand backward toward them, disappearing from the ledge.

Meeting Yunho’s glance, you gulped as he whispered, “I sure hope to god it isn’t him.”

All around the living room table people collected, Seonghwa and Hongjoong sliding out shot glasses to anyone who approached and sat down with them, the two turning it into a game when newcomers joined them on the floor. How many shots can you endure before you’re spinning? Stepping around the sofa, Jongseob on your heels, his friends behind him, you fan out, you take in the scene. Intak and Jiung cheer the next round on, Hongjoong peering up at them behind his chunky black frames perched on the end of his nose.

This was how you knew him, how most knew him. Dressed to impress, ironed clothes, accessories impeccable, chestnut hair slicked back off his forehead, glowy skin, the former president was nothing short of stunning. 

Groans, echoes of boo’s rung out into the air after a shot was thrown back and two sophomores tapped out, leaving the table. At the end farthest from you, three participants beamed amongst themselves, only two seeming to participate in the game. San and Aurora, your best friend sitting on one of his thighs, they slid their glasses toward Seonghwa after they pressed their cheeks together and giggled, Wooyoung on the other side of Aurora watching her with a smile. Her other hand that wasn’t latched onto San or the shot glass held onto Wooyoung’s.

Stepping forward, you bent over to whisper to Seonghwa, “Have you seen Mingi?”

Pouring out shots, sliding them back down over the wood, he peered over at you, his own eyes glazed over. “Last I saw him he was upstairs with Yeosang.” His drunken gaze traveled backward over you toward Jongseob and his friends. “Did they come with you?” You bobbed your head. “Why’d you bring them back in here, I just kicked them out.” 

Hongjoong smacked his hand on the table multiple times, his wicked smile growing wider as Aurora and San swallowed their liquor, gasping as they slapped the glasses back onto the wood. Laughing aloud, tongues slipping out of their open mouths to prove they finished it, they leaned into one another, tongues pressing together for all of three seconds before they sent the glasses back to Hongjoong.

“Kicked them out, why?” you asked, brows twisting over your eyes that flashed from your best friend to Seonghwa. 

Hands grabbed onto your shoulders for leverage. Leaning over you towards the table, Jongseob and his friends laughed behind you, even more so as Intak said, “Not the only thing she likes on them pretty lips, right Aurora?”

She was oblivious, slow blinking, limp moving, her hands holding onto San. Both boys nearly broke their necks with how fast they reacted to him, faces wiped of all feeling. Wooyoung leapt to his feet. The boys behind you all took a step back. 

“Who the fuck brought you back in here?” he spat. Aurora turned at the sound of his voice, his tone loud, angry, an Wooyoung you all knew well just about three years ago. The look on her face, one you hated. San pulled her into his chest.

“The president’s right hand,” Intak said, smug as ever. Stepping closer, the air in the room depleting with every inch of space he stole, Wooyoung settled his face into the grimace he’d shot you that morning, giving it to you again.

“They didn’t tell me they were kicked out,” you breathed, holding your hands up.

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. “He’s been harassing her since he got here, he’s shitfaced.”

“So is your girl,” Intak bellowed, wobbling on his feet, tossing up a hand to prove his point. It’s a shame his smirk and the way his eyes crinkled was sexy. “You gonna let San take her for a ride?”

“You motherfucker.”

Lunging for him, you and the boys darting apart for the two to fall through, Wooyoung grabbed him by the shoulders and they vanished in the midst of people. Shouts sounded, from Wooyoung, Intak, shouts from others either cheering them on or too drunk to process what the actual fuck was happening. He hadn’t put his hands on anyone in ages, the look on his face one you haven’t seen since he was younger than the boy he tackled, grit teeth, wild eyes, red in the face…

Seonghwa leapt to his feet soon after Wooyoung grabbed onto him, a massive, “Hey!” sounding from his chest, triggering your own fight or flight, your body jolting.

Jongeob and Jiung disappeared the same as their president, in a hurry, the commotion condensing around them, more people rushing over to watch, to catch a glimpse of what the hell was happening.

“Oh shit,” San muttered, grabbing onto Aurora as he stood up. Her arms flailed before they found his shoulders. Eyebrows low, he rounded the table and placed her in front of you, taking your arms to wrap them around her back. “I’ll be right back,” he said to you, then he vanished with the rest.

Aurora sunk into you, her arms snaking around your back, her hands grabbing onto her elbows. Keeping your arms where they lived over her back, you searched the crowd but couldn’t see anything over the cluster of heads, the mess of people yelling, jumping. Hongjoong had to scramble to his feet to keep others in line, ones that couldn’t even get into the center of it all, trying to start their own shit outside the circle. It amazed you to watch him work in real time, the way people obeyed him in seconds, his own fraternity members still recognizing him as someone with the most power though now he was one step below. Neither wanted to have to do their jobs this month, Seonghwa and Hongjoong, nor did you or Aurora, yet here they were.

Over someone who hasn’t been a member in almost a year.

On your chest, Aurora stirred. She caught her own balance, tipping her chin upward to look at you. Blinking, you looked down at her. Smelling like a bottle of vodka, her hooded eyes and weak smile made you sigh. Intak was right, she was shitfaced. To the point where you knew she wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. Squeezing you, her lips formed a pout.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her eyes attempting to read you, but there wasn’t a single coherent thought in her head. 

Swallowing away the lump that lodged in your throat, you frowned and nodded. “I miss you.” 

A couple of shouts sounded off from the crowd and her eyes shot open wide. Taking her hands to your shoulders to push away from you, you held her closer, putting a hand behind her head, pulling her back down against your chest.

“Where did…”

You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about it.”

She huffed, her hands scooping beneath your arms to hold behind your back. Her grip was weak. “He’s fighting him, isn’t he.” Blinking, eyes following the crowd that condensed again, Soul and Jongho now in the mix, you couldn’t put any words together. “Sometimes I wish… he could be like Mingi.”

“What?” you gasped, glancing down at her. “Why!?”

“Mingi… fights clean,” she mumbled. “You know what you get with him, he is who he is.” 

She wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, I guess so, but Wooyoung-”

“It’s never…” she paused, and you checked to see if she’d knocked out, but she watched the backs of the people in the circle. “It’s never one thing with him. It’s always gotta be something else, more feelings, talk about this, you feel this way because…” 

Opening your mouth, words didn’t come out. It took a minute for you to be able to say anything. Here you were for so long thinking their dynamic, their relationship, their bond was all sunshine and daisies and rainbows. “He cares about your relationship.”

Aurora whined, turning to bury her face on your shoulder. “I know,” she muttered. “My dad said the same fuckin’ thing, that he’s a good guy, that he cares.”

Rubbing a hand between her shoulder blades to soothe her somehow, you shrugged. “Listen to him, Ror. You’ve got it good.”

“So do you,” she said quietly. “You’re like, with your soulmate.” She lifted her head, glassy eyes blinking up at you. “I wish mine didn’t suck.”

Your stomach flipped. You shook her accidentally as your hands flew to grab onto her cheeks, cupping her face, her entire body weight resting on top of you. “What do you mean by that?” 

A smile played on her lips, the corners of her eyes tipping upward. “Did he say anything about me?” she asked within a whisper. “Yunho… Did he-” 

She didn’t get to finish her sentence when you really fucking needed her to. San hurried back to you, people dispersing the scene reluctantly. His arm grabbed onto her waist and pulled her off of you, scooping her into his arms. With a laugh she moved pliantly, arms thrown around his wide shoulders as she wrapped herself around his front, legs slinging around his waist. Behind you Wooyoung passed by, hands wiping at his face, brushing his arms, adjusting his clothes. He paid no mind to a single soul, not even you. His eyes were forward, narrowed and dark.

“Where are you going?” you called after her and her drunken smile bouncing over San’s shoulder. 

She grinned wider, a giggly mess as San pressed his lips to her neck, following Wooyoung to the stairs. Looking at you, behind you, all at once her smile faded and she pointed at you like she suddenly remembered something, shouting, “Don’t let him leave!” They were gone in seconds.

Laying a hand over your chest, your heart pounding between your lungs, the other found your hip, resting there. Spinning on your heels, wandering back toward the table that Seonghwa and Hongjoong have found themselves at again, you stood beside where they sat, their sudden calm energy while they whispered doing wonders to calm yours. People wandered off, some clearly wired, others muttering how disappointed they were it ended so fast. Looking down at Seonghwa, he met your eyes and smiled as if to tell you that everything would be okay, his attention turning back to Hongjoong in a flash, like he was worried he was going to miss something.

A hand grabbed you and spun you around, the sight sending a gasp through you. Intak, his pretty face, messed up. One hand held onto his jaw, the other clasped onto his forehead, he was leaning against Jiung who had a few scuffs himself. Soul stood behind him, his hands on his back to hold him steady, his focus on Jiung, the two whispering over their friends head.

Jongseob had been the one to grab you, to put his hands on you. “Your dudes are fucking nuts,” he snapped. 

You didn’t know where to look, searching Jongseob for any sign of him having been touched by one of your friends, you muttered, “I’m sorry.” 

I’m sorry?

“We’re out of here,” he said, his voice growing tiny. “If you really want me like you let on, you come find me.” He glanced behind you and smirked. “Bye Tori.”

What the fuck?

“The fuck did he mean by that?” Yunho’s voice came from behind the sofa. Chills shooting down your spine, you spun around and slumped your shoulders. He took a second to look down at Seonghwa and Hongjoong sitting around the table. They were watching. Following his stare, you met eyes with them both and groaned. With one look at Yunho you spoke to him through it, and he followed you.

Darting through the maze that has become the house, he stayed but three steps behind you. Leading him around corners, groups of people, through a doorway into another smaller sitting room on the first floor, one with bookshelves kissing the ceiling, you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him with a huff.

“I hate you and your smart brain,” you said.

Yunho tilted his head. “Huh?”

“Open ended?” you scoffed. “You don’t speak a word to her in months yet you still know how she feels?”

His lips parted, his body frozen. “What?”

“Oh, now you know nothing?”

He stepped toward you in the small space, only the two of you occupying the carpet. “She still has feelings for me? How the fuck did you learn this in a half hour?”

“Because, I may talk a lot of shit, but when she’s drunk-”

“She tells you everything,” you both said at once. Yunho tipped his chin backward, his own arms crossing over his t-shirt. 

“Don’t go trying to break them up, Wooyoung almost just murdered Intak in the living room.”

A smirk graced his lips for all of a few seconds. “I wouldn’t do that. Besides,” he sighed, looking over at you, “You said he’s good for her. He’s good with her.”

Hesitating, knowing all you knew now, that Aurora had her own relationship issues, you whispered, “He is.”

“I want her happy,” he said, his genuine smile growing as he shrugged. The air falls quiet around the two of you, the commotion of the party still very much alive outside the library. He took a deep breath. “I’m gonna go.” Starting for the doorway, you watched him step out and turn a corner, but then your heart skipped a beat.

“Wait!” you shouted after him, hurrying out of the room, platform sandals clunking against the hardwood floor. “Yunho!”

He turned, confusion laced with worry in his brow. “What?”

Reaching his side, you grabbed onto his arm, hands wrapping around his bicep, the two of you wobbling together. “She said, don’t let him leave.”

“Me? Him as in me?” he asked, eyes going wide.

You sighed, a sarcastic laugh paired with it. “Who else, Yo?”

He took a breath and glanced about the party, his face not knowing what to do, what to feel. Shaking his head, his lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he froze. “Tori,” he whispered, and you shook his arm.

“What?”

Squishing his lips together, he gave you the tiniest shake of his head, his eyes locked elsewhere. Whipping yourself around, frantically searching through the sea of people, you found him. He wasn’t that hard to miss, especially from where he stood halfway down the stairs. He stared at you, he stared at Yunho, the way he held onto him, and you guarantee just by the look on his face that he saw the way you spoke to one another. Like you’ve done this already before this moment.

Gulping, voice tiny, you dropped your hands and whispered, “Mingi.”

read it on ao3 | talk to me | my masterlist

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[goldenlionprince]

How to make your romantic intentions known

Part two to How to stop a know-it-all from showing off (which is now part of the How-to Guides for Inter-house Relationships series) thanks to @eastwindmlk and her comment that brought Ravenclaw Sirius back on my radar xD It's February so the perfect time to bring teenage love and disaster back into the world ;) Enjoy!

[AO3]

.

He's infuriating.

That's nothing new, really. Sirius Black has been infuriating ever since James had become aware of his existence. But he's even more infuriating now. Not that James had thought that would be possible, but Black just loves to prove him wrong, even now when he's not even saying a contradicting word to James. He's sitting over there at the Ravenclaw table, writing on his overlong piece of parchment – because of course it has to be much longer than required – concentrating fully on his work instead of his breakfast and ignoring everyone around.

Everyone, including James. Which means his brain is not entirely preoccupied with the little kiss they shared after Charms a few days ago, unlike James'. Which only shows again how infuriating he is.

James huffs and takes another piece of toast out of the basket on the table in front of him. He bites into it, his eyes still on Black bent over his essay as he chews. Does Black ever even eat at all? Or is something like eating too mundane for someone so brainy?

“Are you okay, James?” Remus asks, bringing James back to the Gryffindor table.

“Fine,” James grumbles around his mouthful of toast. It's not fine, really, because Sirius Black seems not as affected by their kiss as James is.

He doesn't seem affected at all.

Which is exactly why James can't stop watching him, waiting for even a tiny give away, a small slip up, that reveals what Black is thinking other than total indifference. Because it can't be indifference. It simply can't.

If the boy you drive up the wall with your know-it-all comments kisses you in an empty corridor it just can't leave you feeling absolutely nothing about it.

Not that James has kissed him willingly. It had just happened. Somehow.

Maybe Black had cursed him and that's why James did it. Or he had coated his lips in a love potion so that's why James can't stop thinking about it. That would make so much sense.

Only that it doesn't. Because – as much as it pains James to admit it – Black wouldn't do things like that.

Which just means James is affected by that stupid kiss more than he should be and he has no idea why.

Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe that's why Black can sit over there, focused on his essay, because he already figured out it was a fluke with that big brain of his.

But to make sure it was just a fluke, nothing else, James would have to do it again. To gather more data. Proper research. Just making sure the theory he's come up with is sound.

Which is why he's making his way to the library that very same afternoon without Remus or Peter. He would be surprised if Black would be anywhere else in the castle at this time of day, with no other classes to be in.

James has checked.

Locating the git in the library turns out to be a little more complicated. The library is big, which James already knew, but Black has to be in the most obscure corner of it. Of course. He's flipping through an absolute brick of a book, his hip leaning against the bookcase, looking all cool and casual.

How does he do that?

“This is starting to become a problem, Potter,” Black says and looks up from the book. His grey eyes meet James' with no glimmer of surprise in them, as if he already knew James would show up eventually. “First you're watching me, now we're at stalking. Will I have to be concerned about you suddenly standing in front of my bed in the middle of the night?”

“No,” James says dumbly.

Black sighs and closes the heavy tome with a thud. “What do you want?”

“I was hoping you could help me with some research,” James says, finding his tongue again along with the courage to step closer.

Black frowns and sets the book down on a nearby study table. “What kind of resea-”

James doesn't let him finish. He pushes Black up against the shelf and kisses him, shutting him up before that infuriating mouth can say another word.

It's a second or two of bliss, of James realizing his fluke theory might be utter nonsense, that he actually is interested in Sirius Black, before Black is pushing him back, two fingers staying on James’ chest as if he wants to make sure James stays where he is.

“When I said this is motivation,” he says, his grey eyes pinning James better in place than his fingers do. “I didn't mean it in the way that you can just grab me whenever you feel like it and glare at me from across the hall for the rest of the time in between.”

“I don't glare!” James protests. Black just gives him another look. James gives him a sheepish smile in return and cards a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe I do. But it's just because I thought you might have cursed me into kissing you the first time.”

Black’s eyes somehow turn cold as he crosses his arms over his chest. James feels the absence of his fingers on his chest like a stab of cold air. “Charming.”

“No, no it's fine,” James reassures him. “I know you didn't.”

“I'm so glad, Potter.”

James sighs and drops his hand. “That came out all wrong.”

Black raises one eyebrow in a perfect judgemental arch. “You don't say.”

“Look,” James says, frustration creeping into his voice. Why does Black feel the need to make everything a lot more complicated? “I kind of like you, I think.”

“Wow,” Black says, shaking his head. “You really know how to make someone feel special.”

Somehow that comment is what makes James pause. Because yes, he can see how that’s making him sound kind of shitty.

Black seems to take pity on the crestfallen look on his face. He sighs and drops his arms. “I’ll tell you what, Potter. Sort out whatever this is that’s going on in that head of yours and when you’ve figured out what it is you want you can come find me again. You just want to make out? Fine, I’m interested, but not in a way where only you get to decide when and where it’s happening and I have to wait around until you remember my existence again. You want to be more than just a casual snog?” Black casually shrugs his shoulders. “We’ll see about that. But one thing I want to make very clear.” He taps two of his fingers on James’ chest. “Next time you'll ask first before you just grab and kiss me or I will jinx you in a way that will make it very hard for you to find your ball again, are we clear?”

James swallows hard and nods. He’s not sure if he should feel as turned on as he is.

“Good.” Black says and then turns away to grab his bag and the brick of a book he was looking at earlier. He slings the strap of his bag over his shoulder and gives James one final nod. “See you around, Potter. And tell Lupin he can have my Runes notes when he’s sick again next week.”

And with that he’s gone.

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. When Remus is sick again, not if.

Next week will be another full moon.

Which means Sirius Black – Ravenclaw know-it-all extraordinaire – knows about Remus' furry little secret. Or at least suspects it.

Somehow that doesn’t surprise James at all. A stupidly sappy grin spreads on his lips. If anyone else would have implied Remus' condition, James would have felt threatened on Remus' behalf. But somehow coming from Black, all James feels is pride in Black's stupidly big brain. They have shared N.E.W.T.s classes for less than six months and he's already onto them.

It also means he keeps an eye on James and his friends.

Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, James leaves the library with a skip in his steps.

[strwbrryscent]

೯ ⁺ 𖥻 no more paradise on earth . ᰋ

Social media au / Some written parts !

summary: Reader was a Kook as a child, always hanging around Sarah and Rafe, becoming best friends with them really quickly, in part because her parents were the richest family on the island. Due the sudden death of her parents, the Camerons got custody of her. But while living with them she discovered things that maybe she wasn’t meant to know, especially the truth about her parents death and the disappearance of Big John Routledge.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Ex Kook! Pogue!Reader

warnings: english is not my first language, so there may be some grammar errors, if you notice please let me know

NAVIGATION ! 05 ⌯ 06 ⌯ 07 masterlist. 𝜗𝜚

It was a habit that you two had, when someone was down or feeling sad he just went to sleep in the other’s room. It was something that you did since you were children.

You remember vividly the first time that it happened. It was winter and you were having a sleepover with Sarah, when your friend fell asleep you got scared because it was storming outside and you instinctively ran towards Rafe’s room, you didn’t know each other that well at the time but you were too embarrassed to wake up Sarah. When he saw you he was confused but he just made space for you in the bed, under the blankets, staying up all night just in case you would wake up and get scared again.

Since then when something bad happens to you and you don’t know what to do you just go inside his room and seek for comfort. You don’t necessarily talk, you just stay in his arms.

Today was no different, you couldn’t avoid the fact that you were feeling nauseous, especially because he knows you too much for you to deny it. So you just put on your pyjamas, took off your makeup and quietly left the room.

When you arrived the door was already cracked open, on the other side of it there was Rafe waiting for you. It didn’t took you much to get inside the room and closing the door behind you, after everything that happened to you in the last couple of days you felt like you deserved it.

“Hi” you said in a quiet tone, making your way towards his bed, “Hi” he replied, making you space next to him on the bed.

You just walked over, slipping under the blankets as your head found the comfort of his chest with him wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened? You look upset since we came back from dad’s office” his fingers gently playing with strands of hair he found on your shoulder.

“It’s nothing, i just feel dizzy and” not even the time to finish your sentence that you were interrupted again by the boy, this Cameron behaviour of interrupting people needs to stop.

“Liar” he said before stopping for a second, trying to think about something else, “If you didn’t want to talk about it you could’ve just said that, when you lie you speak in a quieter tone of voice”

“You need to stop interrupting people when they talk” you replied, pinching his biceps causing him to scrunch his nose a little bit.

“I hate you” he said, “You don’t, let me sleep now”

And with that you turned on your side, closing your eyes as you felt Rafe’s arms wrap around your waist and his head on the crook of your neck.

Some people, Sarah included, called this behaviour that you two had weird, mainly because you weren’t in a relationship and you always stated that you didn’t like each other, but at the end you always ended up in his room, not for anything sexual of course.

But when you weren’t with Sarah you were with him, sometimes you even crashed his days with Topper and Kelce watching them play golf, which they didn’t mind but they always thought that it was weird how Rafe acted around you, especially because he always jumped to one girl to another, like all the time.

But you didn’t care, it was none of your business and you had your own problems to think about, especially now.

You got new notifications, unlock your phone and tap to view !

a/n: i like wrote this part five times because i didn’t like it, and kinda still don’t.. anyways i’m alive, i’ll try to post more after this week but school is killing me

🏷️ : @lilahrosee / @raeven-marie43 / @cyberkitty1 / @theultimatejoe / @starkeysfile / @marleymarleymarleymarley / @rafecameronswifeyy / @hello-therree

[bluearc009]

Operation break up 2

Jaune: Are you sure about this? The last time you tried to break up with Sun his mom broke my ribs with her purse.

Blake: Look, don't worry. I don't care how guilty he makes me feel, it ends today.

Jaune: Okay. Earpieces in?

Blake: Yes.

Jaune: Gloves on. Prayers offered.

Blake walk up to the door and knock, as Jaune hide beside the bushes.

Sun: Oh hey, Blake.

Blake: Hey Sun, I need to talk to you.

Sun: Yes, I wanted to talk to you too.

Jaune:(to Blake) Oh quick, do it now before he says more words.

Blake: Well it's-(Sun interrupt)

Sun: I'm not sure that this is working out.

Jaune:(shock) Never mind, let the boy speak.

Sun: You know, I've been thinking about it for a while now...

Jaune:(hopefully) Wait for it...

Sun: And I think we should break up.

Jaune: Haha! Success!(bring out a bottle) I'll break out the sparkling cider!(having trouble with the cap) How do people do this?

When he finally opened the bottle it sprayed everywhere.

Sun: How do you feel about things?

Jaune:(all soak) Ah, it's so flowy- I think I've gone blind butterfly.

Blake: Okay, so you want to break up?

Jaune:(looking at a plant) Is cider bad for plants? I would feel terrible if this shrub died.

Blake: Why?

Jaune: Uh, because I have a heart- wait, are you asking him why he wants to break up? I advise against this action!

Sun: You know, I just don't feel the same way I used to about things.

Jaune: Good. Say 'okay', wipe away a fake tear, and walk away.

Blake: Was it something I did?

Jaune: What are you doing? No, this is what you wanted and you don't even have to feel guilty about it. It's like eating non-fat yogurt.

Blake:(whisper) I'm just curious.

Jaune: Curiosity killed the cat's opportunity to get out of this relationship!

Sun: No, I just feel like we should see other people.

Blake: Oh, is there someone specifically who you want to see?

Jaune: Who cares? You don't want to date him!

Blake: Yes, but I don't want anyone else to date him either.

Jaune:(confused) I don't understand. Are we here to break his knees or something?

Sun: No, I mean there was this one girl who expressed a little interest, but I'm not really looking to date someone right now.

Jaune: No, do not ask who.

Blake: Who?

Jaune: I hate you.

Sun: Velvet.

Blake: Velvet... Scarlatina?

Jaune: Velvet Scarlatina? He can get Velvet Scarlatina? Dang boy! Tell him congratulations.

Sun: Yeah, I think so. Do you know her?

Jaune: If you do know her, will you set me up? 'Cause that girl is fine!(realize Blake is looking at him) I want to talk about cheese.

Blake: I don't want to break up.

Jaune: How are those words escaping your mouth hole?

Sun: Uh, I don't know, Blake.

Jaune starts to panick when he heard another voice coming from the other side of the bushes

Neptune: Good Sun, good. Now slowly reel her back in.

Jaune:(sees him) It's a trap!

Blake:(whispering) Go away Jaune!(turning off her earpiece).

Jaune:(try to warn her) No, no, Butterfly, come in, you're being played!

Neptune: Good, now tell her that you're not sure this is a good idea. That will drive her crazy. After that, tell her that your mom has forbid you two from dating. People cannot resist what they're told they can't have!

Jaune snuck up behind Neptune karate chop him out cold and put on his earpiece.

Jaune: Uh, hey Sun. This is your...blue hair friend hiding in the bushes. Listen, I think we need to take a different approach; tell her that you want to stay together.

Sun: You know, now that we've talked about it, I think we should stay together.

Blake:(relief) Oh, good!

Jaune: Tell her you love her.

Sun: I love you.

Blake:(shock) Good.

Jaune: Like a lot.

Sun:(whisper) Are you sure?

Jaune: Oh, yeah.

Sun: Like, a lot.

Blake:(creep out) Okay?

Sun:(whisper) Man, I think I'm losing her.

Jaune: Talk about your future together.

Sun: And who knows what the future may hold...

Blake: Future is a strong word, Sun.

Sun: Is it?

Jaune: How many kids?

Sun: How many kids... do you want to have with me?

Jaune: Marriage!

Sun: Marriage!

Blake:(panicking) What?

Jaune: Lean in for a kiss!,(see Neptune getting up) karate chop!(knocking him out again).

Seeing Sun karate chopping Blake.

Jaune: Yes, no, more of that. Chop chop chop.

Blake:(angrily stop him) Sun, I think we should break up! You're weird!

Sun: Come on, Blake!

Jaune: She reminds you of your mom!

Sun: You remind me of my mom... what?

Blake:(disguised) Ugh. Okay, bye Sun!(walk away).

Sun: No!

Jaune:(walk up to sun) Ha ha, that is what you get, for trying to manipulate.

Sun mom: Sun, honey, have you seen my car keys-(sees Jaune) you!

Jaune scream and runaway as sun mom chase him.