#yes i took a concrete class

[carterashofficial]

So, what is the difference between concrete and cement? I genuinely didn't know there was one.

Okay so 1- I'm not sober right now and 2- Concrete was one of my top 3 favorite college classes (along with botany and architectural history from early gothic to 1700s-ish. yes i had a concrete class. it was required for my major)

So *Cement (the OG stuff) is like. old as balls. its been used since the dawn of time and is like. water+ chalky rock stuff. it's got the structural integrity of a saltine cracker, so if you touch it wrong it crumbles, much like my self esteem.

Then the Roman came along, looked at *Cement, and thought "i wanna make it better" and then went and invented Concrete. The One True Big Deal OverPowered Concrete recipe used in Ancient Rome has unfortunately been lost to time. However- we know the basics. Cement + Water + Fly Ash + Aggregate (you might be thinking "hang on, cement is in concrete?" it always has been). So what are these things?

Cement: the basic ingredient. its cement.

Water: H2O preferably in liquid form

Fly Ash: well-done charcoal in a Supremely Fine Powder

Fine Aggregate: sand, essentially.

Coarse Aggregate: small-medium gravel

So you mix all of these things together and you get Concrete. Unlike the fragile cement, Concrete doesn't give a damn how you touch it unless you're a jackhammer. if cement is the crumbly saltine cracker, concrete is a graham cracker. Stronger, heavier, and overall better.

back to Ancient Rome.

So Concrete has been Invented and those Romans use it to build the Colosseum, because they could and no one could stop them. deep at the bottom of the Colosseum are concrete walls like 9 feet deep. Because their structural engineering can be summed up as "lets make it an arch" and that was it. It was the only way to hold up all those wall and different levels above.

You might now be thinking "hang on Carter, why don't other giant modern buildings not have 9' deep concrete walls. b/c thats ridiculous" It's because the Romans excelled at a lot of things, however they did not use rebar. rebar in concrete started in the 1800s, which led to the boom of Tall Buildings across the globe. Like the first Skyscraper was only 10? stories.

So now we have Concrete + Rebar. just about all Concrete you see in the wild has rebar in it. your sidewalk? rebar. Driveway? rebar. the in-ground pool? Rebar.

But in that below ground pool, its not just concrete. it's Concrete + Additives/Admixtures.

Additives/Admixtures: fancy schmancy chemically engineered compounds to change various things about the concrete, such as:

Concrete cures slower

Concrete handles the expansion/contraction of ice/water better

Concrete has a different Heat of Hydration temp

Colored Concrete (i've seen red for fire lines, aka STOP DIGGING)

Before I continue, i need to explain Heat of Hydration. when the cement, the primary ingredient in concrete, cures (goes from gloop to solid), it lets off heat. it gets hot. Spicy Cement. This is why when you get cement/concrete on your clothes or skin, you're supposed to wash it off ASAP. its corrosive AF and will give you a chemical burn. which like, no bueno. supremely no bueno.

So now you know of Cement and it's better, stronger child: Concrete.

Cement is the flour of the cake that is concrete. Flour + Water? sad saltine cracker. Flour + Water + Sugar? Graham Cracker. Flour + Water + Egg + Sugar? Cake.

You mix your cement with water and aggregates and fly ash and then you've got your concrete. to make it Extra Strong, pour it over rebar. And then wash off wherever it splashed.

Now my final note: in stores across the US you can find bags of lies called 'Quikcrete'. these are not concrete. these are cement. There is no aggregates. no admixtues or additives. Despite the wrong name its a decent product. holds up fence posts really well even when you have a dog that spent 11 years trying to become one with the fence.

Now next time someone complains about the 'cement' or whatnot being chipped, you can turn to them, the soul of an ancient roman engineer in your eyes, and go "its concrete"

[togeppys]

the waiting game ;

tsukishima kei x reader

reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.

You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about. 

You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk. 

The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt. 

At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better. 

"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution. 

Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend." 

The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!" 

Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?" 

Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.

"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.

Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said. 

"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates." 

Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity. 

You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return. 

"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter. 

Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store. 

"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air. 

The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red. 

"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment. 

"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks. 

"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path. 

"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused. 

"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him. 

"No." 

That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along. 

"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home. 

"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh. 

"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you. 

"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight." 

"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple." 

"I'm not going out with you." 

"It was worth a shot." 

As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street. 

When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches. 

When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands. 

Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face. 

"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother. 

"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below. 

You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.

"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym. 

"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury. 

"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.

You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match. 

To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals." 

You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you. 

After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.

Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand. 

You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friend’s tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team. 

The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands. 

When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight. 

You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests. 

"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."

"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark. 

"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see." 

"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations. 

"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all." 

"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone." 

"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend." 

"Mhm okay." 

"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?" 

You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym. 

He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach. 

"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you. 

You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion. 

"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you. 

"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard." 

The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time. 

"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly." 

"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?" 

"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made. 

"Nevermind, girlfriend it is." 

Bonus:

A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about. 

"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster. 

"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria." 

Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language. 

A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face. 

"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time." 

[ssinboo]

Say Yes to me

summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.

or

During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.

pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader

word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!

warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest

a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!

Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo. 

You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.

Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit. 

Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether. 

Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead. 

His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.  

They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too. 

Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines. 

But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.

His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.

You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though. 

More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession. 

“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth. 

He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.

“What?”

“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.

“Why would I know that?”

“Can’t you ask your mum?” 

He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”

“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger. 

“The fuck is a birth chart?”

“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”

“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.” 

You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo. 

Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then. 

You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin. 

Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute. 

But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls. 

With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom. 

On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.

At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples. 

The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.

Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys. 

He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.

The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff. 

“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?” 

You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic. 

“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”

“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”

“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.

“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.

As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.

“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock. 

“Happy birthday, princess.” 

“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!” 

“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air. 

You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings. 

But you find brand new car keys.

Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.

“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible. 

And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.

You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving. 

“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”

“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.

Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.

And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm. 

You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank. 

He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.

Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.

“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado. 

“Why?”

“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.

You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”

“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.

“Where do I need to put it?”

“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”

“What if I get stuck?” 

“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.

You scoff, “Shut up.”

Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.

“I can’t find it,” You complain.

“Keep trying.”

“I am!”

“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.

You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all. 

“Can’t find it!”

“Right, right— My right.”

“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.

He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.” 

“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place. 

“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles. 

“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up. 

When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles. 

Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘

“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress. 

He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”

“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs. 

He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works. 

You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.

“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.

“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.

You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.

“Okay, then go.” 

Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress. 

He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”

Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.” 

He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart. 

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises. 

“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.

“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”

Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”

It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him. 

So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.

The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”

“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”

You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.

“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” You ask.

“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.

Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”

“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.

And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out. 

Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.

“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone. 

Engaged? Engaged!

Engaged…

Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged. 

With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!

You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”

Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort. 

You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that? 

Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.

Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet. 

It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance. 

Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?

Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.

Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!

He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches —  To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics. 

You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.

By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight. 

You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.

By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours. 

Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”

By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.

From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.

“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.

“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display. 

“I’m— Well—“

“They’ve told you then—“ 

You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”

Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.

“Oh, please!” You laugh.

Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.

“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.” 

You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong. 

“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”

Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.

“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.” 

You nod. 

Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”

You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again. 

He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves. 

“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.

“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.

“Hey— What’s wrong—?”

“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.

“Are you a crybaby tonight?”

You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.

Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.

It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.” 

He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad. 

He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover. 

You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?” 

Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.

“Fine—!” 

You smile brightly, properly comforted. 

Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile. 

He immediately spots you among the crowd.

You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.

“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug. 

“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.

“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug. 

Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body. 

Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other. 

“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother. 

“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug. 

Wonwoo shrugs. 

You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.

He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug. 

“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.

Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!” 

“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.

“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.

You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.

Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions. 

That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.” 

“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am  amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”

Everyone laughs.

“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”

You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears. 

“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.” 

He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.

But Wonwoo doesn’t move. 

“Nonu?” You whisper. 

In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.

You and Seokmin exchange glances. 

Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio. 

You stand up and follow him. 

“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels. 

He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.

The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.

“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.

“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!” 

You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.

“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!

“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.

“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue. 

“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished. 

“Then— What will you do?”

“I don’t know!” 

You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder. 

“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“

“What?!” you stand up.

“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.” 

Oh, what a dilemma it was.

Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.

What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.

“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.

As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.

“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.

But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.

“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.

“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”

The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.

Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.

“What the hell happened?”

You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.

“Sorry,” He whispers back.

“He didn’t know!”

“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was. 

“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”

“Shit. What are we gonna do?”

“He wants to run away,” You announce.

Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands. 

“And you’re coming with him?”

“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”

“And where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” 

“And when are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You are coming back, right?”

“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.

He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?” 

You nod, pulling him into a hug.

Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.

“Ready?” You call out.

Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand. 

Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door. 

You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head. 

Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer. 

In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.

And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.

The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.

“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.

“Yeah,” He replies.

“Truly?”

“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”

You nod. 

You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.

“We should stop soon and have a rest.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”

“Anywhere.” 

And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living. 

You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way. 

The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.

“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna 

“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”

He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”

Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.

“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.

Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.

“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.

“Wouldn’t bet on it.” 

“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress. 

He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom. 

That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!

“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.

“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”

“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.

He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.” 

You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”

While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off. 

When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too— 

He clears his throat. “I’m back!” 

But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.

“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.

“Did you find the clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps. 

“Uh— Which one?”

“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.” 

“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours. 

Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.

“Thank youu!” 

He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you. 

You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon. 

Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.

“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.

“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.” 

“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.

Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.

He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag. 

You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.

By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.

God, he could make a potato sack look good. 

“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long. 

Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”

You laugh.

He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth. 

“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote. 

Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.

“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.

“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”

You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”

“We?” He raises an eyebrow.

You pull away from him.

“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.

“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”

You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”

There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.

“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.

“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.

“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”

You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.

“What the hell?!” 

“What?” 

Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes.  “You have the hots for my sister!”

It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“

“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!” 

“Because she is!”

You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head. 

“What’s wrong with saying that?”

You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”

Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.

“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.

Hook, line and sinker. 

You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips. 

That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso. 

He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.

Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.

“It’s well past midnight… Why?”

You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.” 

Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…” 

“What is it?” 

If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so. 

So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss. 

It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love. 

When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.

But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind. 

You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones. 

Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core. 

Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.

Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory. 

Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager. 

He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth. 

Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to. 

But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.

When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.

 It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.

“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips. 

“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”

Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”

You nod.

He nods. “Wanna do it again?”

You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.

And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him. 

You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue. 

Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise. 

He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.

Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement. 

He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin. 

Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up. 

And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.

All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat. 

Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits. 

Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts. 

He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you. 

Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.

“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own. 

“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.

And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you. 

Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”

You’re surprised, to say the least. 

Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock. 

It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.

But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself. 

When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.

“Keep it on—“ He whispers.

“Why?”

“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.

As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin. 

“Ready?”

You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.  

Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.

Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry.  “We can stop— Let’s stop—“

“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”

So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the  tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong. 

It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out. 

And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger. 

Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock. 

“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”

You breathe out, “Yeah.”

Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you. 

Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member. 

And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?

“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before. 

His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin. 

You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him. 

He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his. 

“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second. 

You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.

He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.

Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there. 

Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood. 

You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him. 

Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name. 

And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge. 

He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers. 

Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back. 

He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.” 

His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.” 

“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Wonwoo hums. 

“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks. 

It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep. 

And you slept like never before. 

The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.

Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events. 

He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on. 

Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.

“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.

You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”

“I promised I would,” You shrug. 

Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”

“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him. 

Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you.   Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.

While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back. 

“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces. 

Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”

Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips. 

“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most. 

“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“

You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out. 

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.

His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”

And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”

You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility. 

Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face. 

“Gather your things and go to the car.”

It’s all he says before he leaves the room. 

The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks. 

Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.” 

And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month. 

Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.

It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks. 

She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words. 

“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says. 

You humph. 

“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”

Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it. 

So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was. 

He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe. 

“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to. 

Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes. 

And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely. 

“Hey,” He greets. 

“Busy?”

“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves. 

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”

It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort. 

“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“

“Yeah— We should.” You nod.

You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you. 

“Go ahead—“

“You first—“

You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh. 

“How about we say it together?” 

“On 3?”

“1”

“2”

“3”

Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart. 

“I want to marry you.”

“I love you.”

“What?!” 

“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.

“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.

“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.

Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.

“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”

“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”

“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“

You choke, “You what?!”

Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”

Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!” 

“For roping you into running away from my party.” 

“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself. 

“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.

“No— I should’ve talked to you.”

Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”

With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most. 

“You love me?”

“Always,” He smiles.

Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.

Gulping, he gathers his courage.

In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.

“Will you marry me?”

And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.

You’ll love him forever. 

[pupyuj]

→ “little things.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.

— being away from weeks too long from your girlfriend has led you into thinking all the horrible things about yourself that you thought you had shut down long ago, but of course yujin wouldn't let that slide...

word count: 6.3k.

dynamic: soft dom!ahn yujin x sub!reader.

warnings: hurt/comfort (emphasis on hurt...), angst, reader suffers a depressive episode, praises, reassurance, cunnilingus, fingering.

requested?: yes!

a/n: 2/4 requested fics done! we're almost there! i hope the anon that requested this months ago is still lurking around to read this, and i hope they're in a better place now as they told me that this request came to be because of their struggles ;~; anon, please know that you are loved by a lot of people no matter what you may think of yourself ❤️‍🩹 i hope you all will love this fic as much as i loved writing it 💞 definitely hit a little close to home 😆

your girlfriend loved you more than it was humanly possible to love another person, but you were somehow convinced that she didn’t.

because how could she? she’s ahn yujin—a top-class idol, a beloved entertainer widely known throughout the country and even the damn world! she’s the leader of one of south korea’s best girl groups in history, she’s so famous that her face is plastered all over billboards, ads, articles, posters, screens… ahn yujin was a real treasure. and you? a mere secretary in a moderately famous game company. it was the real workings of fate that made you and yujin meet right outside of your company building where you were crying at the bottom of the stairs that led to the entrance doors after receiving yet another senseless sermon from your boss. yujin just so happened to be walking her precious dog in the area and was kind enough to waste her time comforting a stranger.

though at the time, you hadn’t known it was yujin due to her being disguised as a random passerby. that was until she took off her hat, face mask, and colored hair extensions that you finally realized where you’d seen those cute dimples before—the tv screens. you didn’t make a big fuss out of being face to face with a literal golden celebrity, and yujin appreciated that a lot. so much so that she opted to stay with you on the concrete until she was able to lift your spirits. of course the two of you said your goodbyes, but both of you knew in your hearts that you would meet again someday.

and that proved to be true merely three weeks later; when all six members of ive, as well as their staff members, graced the conference room in a meeting for a collaboration with one of your company’s most popular games. you and yujin stared at each other with soft smiles and loudly-beating hearts—it was the start of a warm friendship, and an even warmer relationship when yujin finally got the guts to ask you out on a date after having been friends and colleagues for a year.

now, in your sixth year as a couple, you should be happier than ever. you’ve created the most euphoric of memories with yujin, shared the loveliest of promise rings, kissed the best of kisses, and you’ve even sworn to each other that when things calm down on yujin’s end then the two of you would settle in together, live in the same house, and eventually, if fate allows it so, get married. it all had been exciting, of course. you knew that yujin was the love of your life and that you would be the luckiest girl in the world to be her wife, but there has always been this tiny little voice in your mucked-up brain that is always telling you things you didn’t want to be true… and yet they might be.

that you might not be enough for yujin.

that you’re nothing but a problem to yujin.

that somebody else was better for yujin.

that you are not at all loved by yujin.

for a while, you blocked this voice out because not only did yujin make sure that you know that she loves you, she made you feel it. whether it was from her kisses, her touch, her thoughtful gifts, the meals she cooked for you, the late night drives she always takes you on every other friday, and even from the way she simply looked at you; you could feel every single drop of the love she held for you, and there was a lot. however, you hadn’t been able to shake the voice off for a while now and it didn’t help that you and yujin hadn’t seen each other for quite some time due to both of you being abnormally busy.

you always hated doubting yujin, but it wasn’t your fault. between the weeks you’ve been apart, the less-than-thirty-minutes calls on yujin’s breaks, and every text where yujin tells you that she can’t spend the night with you, it was easy to believe that she might be pulling away. something you hated even more than doubting your girlfriend is asking yourself the ‘what if?’ questions: “what if i’m bothering her?”, “what if i’m distracting her?”, “what if she’s come to hate me?”, “what if she met someone else?”, and the worst of it all, “what if she’s falling out of love?”

ridiculous and stupid to think about, let alone even entertain the thought. but that damn voice…

that damn voice has led you to barely eating breakfast before you left for work today. it led you to perform your tasks poorly at work, but you were lucky that your new boss (the old one, the asshole, was fired a few years ago for verbally abusing his employees)  was understanding and kind and let it all slide. it led you to skipping lunch completely, making you work for nine hours straight with barely any breaks. it led you to collapsing on your bed after you’d gotten home, sobbing pathetically into your pillow when you realized that yujin hasn’t sent you a single text today at all.

shit, what if the voice was right?

you fell asleep in your bed crying that night, in your work clothes and all. you had a dreamless sleep, but it wasn’t the kind of dreamless that was comforting or funny in a way you could make fun of it for being nothing. it was the kind that weighed heavily in your heart when you woke up and didn’t see your girlfriend snoring right beside you. and not even in your dreams did you get a chance to see her. how cruel.

you could barely get yourself to stand up and make a small breakfast—you knew yujin wouldn’t like it if she caught you skipping your meals. and right after that, you dragged your feet in the bathroom and had the saddest shower of your life. at least you didn’t have to cry all that much in there. it was pure silence from your end, with only the sound of the water running and the faint noises of the television in your room accompanying you while you washed yourself. you couldn’t remember the last time you had taken a shower with your girlfriend, it was always one of your favorite things to do with her but only because you liked the way she would insist on washing your hair and how she would smile so brightly when you agreed.

ah, great. now you miss her even more.

you couldn’t bring yourself to do much after that shower. you bundled yourself up with blankets and stared blankly at the television, waiting until another day without yujin passes. much to your annoyance, time was moving a lot slower than usual. as if the universe wanted to shove it in your face that you’re spending all this time alone. you think your phone buzzed a few times, but you didn’t even have the energy to turn your head and look at it. instead, your mind wanders to the possibility that it was anyone but yujin that was trying to contact you, and that just made your heart waver.

you let yourself wallow in your own sadness in the darkness of your room, crying softly and quietly. maybe if you disappear underneath all of your pillows and blankets then yujin will finally forget about you. would she say “good riddance”? you hated that thought, but you wouldn’t blame yujin if that was how she felt. soon enough, you’ve completely lost your sense of time. your eyes hurt from crying, your head throbbed with so much pain that you wanted to get medicine just to get it to shut up but you couldn’t be bothered to move an inch from where you were, and your entire body aches from having been in the same position for hours.

you begged the earth to swallow you whole, but not before erasing the memory of your existence from everyone’s minds completely just to spare yujin the pain of losing someone she loves. loved.

it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, especially when all you’ve been doing was cry your heart out. despite everything, you were afraid of what your fragile mind would do once you wake up without yujin by your side again. she never even liked it when you got something as small as a papercut. you can’t imagine how she would react if…

god, what were you thinking? how did you get here? is this really going to be your life whenever yujin wasn’t around to help you keep your demons at bay? you are stronger than this. you know that better than anyone. better than what they all give you credit for. get up. you repeated those two words like a prayer in your head until your body cooperated with you—sitting up and leaning your back against the headboard. good job. you took that untouched glass of water from the night table and took one big sip. that’s even better. small steps for others, but very big for you. it was enough for you to decide to not allow your mind to wander and focus on something. you wouldn’t feel any better (it was never that quick), but at least you wouldn’t be thinking about such horrible things.

and when you started getting lost in the cooking show that was playing on the television, it was impossible for you to hear the door to your dingy apartment creak open.

ahn yujin was home. finally. she could drop to her knees and cry right at your adorable ‘welcome’ mat by the door. your scent was all over your apartment and it was enough to immediately relieve the young celebrity of all of her worries and stress. she had been hoping to find you scuttling about in your kitchen since you loved reading your cookbooks there and checking if you had the correct ingredients for a dish or dessert you want to whip up impulsively, and as soon as yujin spotted you, she would’ve jumped into your arms and kiss you until you were sick of her lips on your skin. she missed you so much and all she wanted to do was be with you and celebrate the collection of good news that she has for you… but even before seeing pretty much all the lights in your apartment turned off, yujin knew something was horribly wrong.

yujin had been busy the whole day. from filming for variety shows, brand photoshoots, and magazine interviews, she didn’t have much time to do anything else. she had all the energy for it though but not because she just so happened to love her job, but she also knew that after all of it was over, she could finally go home to the love of all her lives and do everything she has been wanting to do with her without interruptions. as soon as she changed out of her work clothes and got her makeup off, yujin texted you. she told you she missed you, asked you to get ready ahead of time because she was going to pick you up and take you out on a short drive around the city before sitting down for a romantic dinner with a breathtaking view of the sunset in her friend’s fancy restaurant.

but you never replied to her messages. you didn’t even see them. that was the first sign and truthfully, it was all yujin needed to know. yujin knew you wouldn’t be doing much today so surely you would have at least tried to look at her messages even if you were occupied with something. rather than getting pouty about it, yujin was instead really worried. what if you were angry with her because she hasn’t been with you for so long? she couldn’t imagine someone so mature like you would get mad at something she can’t control and you have been apart from each other like this before and there weren’t any problems then! but… maybe that was just what you made it look like so yujin wouldn’t have to lose her head thinking about your well-being.

which would be insane, by the way. yujin believes that she isn’t the smartest person alive, but she should know when the woman closest to her heart is having a hard time. she should… and somehow she managed to not. yujin stands frozen in the cold kitchen, realizing that all this time, you were probably just putting up a strong front for her. and every day she was gone, you were dealing with things she should’ve been helping you with instead of just leaving it all for until she comes back home to you. fuck.

panic rises in yujin when she doesn’t see the lights turned on in the vacant bedroom either. if you weren’t trying to cook or waiting for yujin in the living room while getting some reading done, you would be in that bedroom working. so now yujin knows that you were holed up in your bedroom, and that alone was enough to send her running all the way to the other side of your small apartment, ready to burst through your door… until she gets a hold of herself. she prayed to the gods that you were okay, and that you were unharmed. she could hear the faint, muffled sounds of your favorite cooking show inside but you weren’t laughing.

an eerily silent (y/n) was never a good sign. slowly, yujin turned the knob and opened the door. she finds her heart breaking in two when she sees you curled up in your bed. you were barely even watching the show. between the half empty glass of water in the night table, your dirty work clothes in disarray on the carpeted floor, your adorable and fluffy panda indoor slippers haphazardly shoved underneath your bed, and the fucking pitiful state that you were in, it didn’t take yujin a split second to even know that it was definitely one of those days for you… but so much worse than what she was used to seeing.

“(y/n), honey…?”

yujin doesn’t wait for a response. she sits on the small empty spot beside you as you weakly and slowly turn around to face her. you looked exhausted. your eyes were red, puffy, and half-lidded which yujin assumes were from crying. she hated that she hadn’t been with you throughout all of this, as in at all. when she was gone, she could barely message and call you and even when she got home, she would still be occupied with something work-related or she would be too exhausted to do anything else. she needed to make it up to you. she has to. starting now.

“i’m home,” yujin brushes your hair away from your face. she leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead, and she stays still for a few seconds to truly savor the moment of being back in your presence after such a long time. she felt safe, she was at peace. away from the cameras, the lights, and the fake smiles. now she has to return the favor. “i’m sorry i took so long…” yujin lays in bed with you, taking your figure into her arms and allowing you to melt into her after weeks too long. yujin fully expected you to cry and break down, and she truly would have just let you while pouring all of her love to you… but you were damn near silent.

there was no way you were angry. if you were, you wouldn’t even hug yujin nor would you let her come near you at all. you nestled your face comfortably on her chest, holding her like you don’t even want her to think of going anywhere else. not even a few minutes since yujin joined you and the two of you were already a mess of tangled limbs in your bed due to how close you held onto her—it was enough proof of just how much you missed her. if it hadn’t been for the fact that the television was on, yujin wouldn’t have been able to see the deep solemn look in your eyes as you looked up at her. the silence weighed heavily in the air; both of you had things to say to each other but there was so much that neither of you knew where to start.

however, now that she was in your arms, you had no problem just going back to hiding your face in the crook of her neck and just appreciating how you didn’t have to go even longer without her. yujin didn’t dare to complain, of course. whatever you thought you needed, she would happily give you and if silently cuddling was just that, then so be it. you stayed like that for a whole half hour, only occasionally raising your head to look at yujin as if not looking at her for too long would make her disappear suddenly. but no, yujin has been away from you for too long that at this point she doesn’t even want to leave your side ever again.

“i thought you’d forget about me.”

you spoke so suddenly and that yujin thought she must’ve imagined it. she feels you clutch her shirt tightly, and what she doesn’t know is that you were fighting back your tears. you wanted to celebrate having your girlfriend back, of course, but your sadness managed to beat your delight for once. this time, you couldn’t stop your fears from showing and as much as you didn’t want yujin to lose her head comforting you, you also just needed her to tell you that it was all going to be okay.

meanwhile, yujin couldn’t believe what she was hearing. she hoped that you wouldn’t take her silence the wrong way; she was only processing your question in her head to make sure that did hear it correctly. forget you?

“that’s impossible. why would i?” she was quite offended by the question, actually. but that was something she’ll make fun of another day.

“i thought that perhaps being around other successful, accomplished people could wake you up and make you see that… that i’m worthless compared to all of them,” you refused to meet yujin’s eyes as you spoke. you knew you would just break into tears and nothing would be solved. “that’s what everybody used to say… remember? during the first few months after our relationship got leaked to the public. a ‘normie’ dating ahn yujin… i was afraid you’d start to think that way too after being gone for so long.” 

that indeed was quite the dark time. yujin fought tooth and nail to tell everyone that you were worthy of her and if anything, she was the lucky one in this relationship because you’re so perfect in her eyes. she got scolded by her management for being unprofessional when she got worked up on live television about it all but it was worth it making those rude entertainers shut up and avoid her gaze for the rest of filming. not one person dared to speak ill about you around yujin ever again after that, not even in online articles and gossip sites! especially after they saw how inexplicably happy she was to be with you. 

yujin thought you could see that, too. she smiled the biggest when she was with you, laughed the loudest, and shined the brightest too. so hearing you say all of this… well, to say that yujin was in disbelief would be an understatement.

“(y/n)... you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. what more could i ask for than meeting and falling in love with the most amazing girl in the world?” yujin hoped that this would be enough to ease your worries enough that you could finally look her in the eye, but instead you let go of her and rolled to your other side—away from her. any other day those words would’ve been enough to make you smile and tease yujin for being such a cornball despite the seriousness of the situation… but today, you cried instead. 

yujin, however, doesn’t miss a beat. she wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your shoulder, “i love you. no matter what you think—i love you.” she spoke every word with conviction. her tone strong enough for you to not only accept her words but absorb it in every fiber of your being. yujin holds you tightly as you cried in her arms, whispering words of affirmation here and there while also peppering your shoulders, neck, and ear with her soft kisses. she wouldn’t even care if this was what the two of you did for the rest of the day, just as long as she gets to see you smile and be yourself again. 

for yujin, that was when you were the most beautiful—being happy and unapologetically you.

neither of you bothered to keep track of how long you were in that position, but you did eventually stop crying. the television kept on playing its shows, the sun had started to set outside your closed blinds, and yujin was finally starting to feel all the work she’d done in the day catch up to her body. she had assumed that you’ve fallen asleep with how quiet and still you’ve gotten… but then you finally faced her again. this time, you were staring right in her eyes. and as if this was the first time you’ve done it, yujin’s heart skips a beat.

“i missed you so much… i couldn’t spend another day without you.” you told her in a weak, raspy voice.

yujin smiles, “me too. i’m so happy i get to be here, finally...” she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. she takes her time to get familiar with your features once again, all while unknowingly leaning closer and closer to you. you close your eyes, waiting for what you have been needing for the longest time, until yujin gets a hold of her senses and finally puts her lips on yours. it might have been the softest kiss you’ve shared with her as yujin was careful with the way her lips moved against yours. but even a kiss as heavenly as this was enough to fill your heart with flowers… so when yujin slowly makes her way on top of you whilst her kisses get hungrier, your stomach was a storm of butterflies.

you started to unbutton her loose casual dress shirt, an act that mildly upset you since yujin looked so handsome in it… but she looked better with it off, and you needed to feel her skin on yours. once you’ve dropped the shirt on the floor beside your bed, your hands glide down yujin’s back with your heart beating erratically at the feeling of her muscles beneath your fingertips. yujin slots a knee in between your legs and thank goodness for that actually—the buzz in your core was not going to go away by itself, after all.

yujin’s lips were now on your neck, eager to leave a mark on every inch of your skin tht was visible while pressing her knee against your clothed pussy. you moaned, your pretty voice making yujin’s ears tingle and raising her excitement enough to slide a hand inside your shirt and cup your bare boob. you started to slowly grind against her knee, sighing blissfully at the feeling. you weren’t a big fan of… playing with yourself to satisfy your needs if yujin just so happened to be gone. her hands always knew you so much better than you did yourself. because not only did she know your heart, but she knew your body too. knew exactly which spots to hit, which part of your skin to suck on to get the most noises out of you, and how you like it all best. 

when you moan again after yujin brushes a finger across your hardened nipple, she raises her head with fear in her irises. “t-this… probably isn’t the right time for this, isn’t it? god… i’m sorry, baby, i-i went overboard… i just wanted to kiss you but… i couldn’t resist touching you too…” yujin says with those adorable puppy eyes. always have to be such a gentlewoman, this one. it was one of your main reasons for falling in love with her as that aspect of her made her so much more charming in your eyes.

as soon as you feel her moving her hand away, you stop her. “this is the perfect time, hon. i missed you… and right now, all i want is your hands on me.” you trap her knee in between your legs and press harder against it, showing yujin just how much you wanted her to touch you.

yujin was still uncertain about it all, however. “a-are you sure? we don’t have to if you’re not feeling we—”

“yujin,” you said sternly. you took her face in your hands and kissed her nose, finally smiling at her. yujin feels her heart making a mess inside her ribcage. “believe me. i’m sure.” after six whole years of dating, you still manage to make it feel like she was falling in love at first sight all over again. you’ve both grown as people since your little meet-cute, of course, but to yujin, you will always be that beautiful girl on the steps of that dingy building with the prettiest pair of eyes yujin has ever seen. and so with your confirmation, yujin was no longer hesitant to grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head.

she was touching you in a way that reminded you of your first intimate night together all those years ago. nervous touches, and even more nervous kisses. even the way yujin was adamant to take things as slowly and steadily as possible was the same. you didn’t complain, though. as much as you wanted your girlfriend to get it going already, you also wanted to savor this moment and make the night last. judging by how yujin hasn’t told you any devastating news about her schedule staying busy yet, you figured that the two of you now have all the time in the world to be together… so hell, why not take your time?

yujin places her hands on your hips as she sits up, opting to stare at you and ogle at your perfect body for seconds too long. she was just as desperate to feel you as you were desperate for her to show you how much she missed you, but her disciplined hands kept her from doing anything too rash. it was adorable—how glaringly obvious it was that yujin just wanted to rip your clothes off and take you however she wants to, but being the sweetheart she is, she acts according to your wants and needs. she then went on to unbutton and unzip your jean shorts, but she doesn’t pull it off of you. she slides her hand underneath the waistband of your panties and moans at the feeling of your bare cunt on her fingers.

“mmhn… i missed touching you… you have no idea how many times i wanted to walk out of a set to go home to you, and listen to something so much more pleasant than a director telling me how to do my job,” yujin parts your lips with two of her fingers and uses a third to slowly feel up your slit. you were drenched already. obviously you’ve wanted this for such a long time that no one can blame you for getting wet so easily. “do you know what that is, darling?” yujin asks. she lowers herself to your chest and gives your nipple a scrutinizingly slow lick before catching it in her warm mouth.

you were too focused on the feeling to answer her question. your hand digs through yujin’s hair, gripping it and pushing her head closer while simultaneously grinding your hips faster on her hand. yujin dips two fingers inside of your pussy but stops there, opening her eyes and letting go of your nipple, “your voice. let me hear you.” she finally shoves both fingers inside your cunt, relishing in the way you arched your back and allowed your beautiful voice to invade her ears.

you were tight around her fingers, as always. it was just how yujin liked it. something about how her fingers can’t always move in and out smoothly because your walls loved to just suck her in always made her embarrassingly wet. her next favorite thing was watching you as she fucked you; your pretty face making all sorts of expressions at every thrust and every brush of her thumb against your clit just scratched the right parts in yujin’s brain. she can’t help but want more, and more she will certainly take. yujin feels horrible about not being there enough for you during such a hard time… she should’ve figured that leaving you alone with barely anything to distract you would’ve hurt you the way it did.

“i should’ve called more… i should’ve ignored all the risks of my manager nagging at me and visited you, even just for a short while…” yujin peppers your chest with kisses as her pace increases. you couldn’t even be bothered to say anything to her—not when you were overwhelmed with how good she filled you up with only two fingers. every time her palm slammed against your wrist with how hard she was fucking you now, all the embarrassing whines and moans you tried holding back were free to be heard… but it turns out that yujin loved it all so much so there was nothing to be shy about at all.

so you stopped being self-conscious about it all, allowing all of the sinful noises to come out of your mouth just as yujin liked it. while you were busy getting lost in the pleasure, yujin had lowered herself enough to be kissing your stomach. pure desire radiated from her dark eyes, and you didn’t even notice that she had pulled off both your shorts and panties from your body until you could feel her hot breath fanning against your pussy. she pulls her fingers out, but quickly replaces the void inside you with her tongue. she knew that you were the weakest when she used her mouth on you so she was quick to intertwine your fingers to keep you grounded and focused on all of the feelings she was giving you without being too overwhelmed by it all.

“ahh.. mmn… you must’ve missed this too, huh, baby?” yujin opens her eyes and looks up at you with a grin. you were already making quite the mess on her face, but really, that wasn’t entirely your fault. yujin liked it messy, and if she could, she would make you cum to the point of showering herself in your juices but she wanted to take it easy tonight. for you, of course. between you covering your face with your arm, your chest heaving up and down from you taking deep breaths, and your grip on yujin’s hand getting tighter by the second, it was all enough for yujin to keep doing what she does best.

she ate you out like it was her first and last time, too. humming and moaning in approval while she was either deep inside your walls with her tongue or as she sucked on your sensitive clit. the latter action made your legs shake and grab yujin’s hair, not caring about her seeing all the faces you were going to make the longer she went about using her tongue on the hard bud. she put one hand on your inner thigh and pushed it back, opening your legs up even more for an easier time and actually ending up digging her nails on your skin with how hard you were gripping her scalp. she liked the pain and you were going crazy over the pleasure she gave you; it was a win-win!

every time you whined her name, it only adds to yujin’s ever-growing need to give you the best orgasm you’ve had in a while. or even ever. “god… you’re so fucking pretty. i must’ve… heh.. saved the fucking planet in another life or something… or else it doesn’t make sense how i just so happened to meet a goddess in this lifetime…” yujin smiles at you as she says this, giggling at how you blushed wildly and looked away. yujin believed in her heart that you were the most beautiful girl she would ever meet in her life—you just happened to be too humble to accept the alleged ‘facts’ that your lovely girlfriend believed.

deciding that you probably can’t take anymore teasing, yujin presses her thumb on your clit and pushes her tongue back inside you. she proceeds on rubbing your clit harshly, wincing slightly as you were starting to hurt her with your nails on her scalp. the noises that you released gave yujin nothing short of ecstasy, only encouraging her to be better, go deeper, until you finally, finally let go of yourself on her tongue. delicious. yujin keeps her lips on your pussy as you cum, slurping up your juices as best as she can, yet never having enough to actually get herself to stop.

it was a few minutes after you’ve come down from your high and yujin was giving your exhausted cunt the tiniest of licks that she heard something new. something she hadn’t heard before when the two of you got intimate like this. she missed a few others as the sound of her sucking up your wetness with so much hunger and desperation toppled over literally every other noise, but yujin was sure that she didn’t mistake that noise when she did finally hear it. a soft, tiny sob… coming from you.

you’ve been crying, and yujin had been unaware. “oh, no… i’m so sorry, honey. i-i didn’t think—did i hurt you?” yujin immediately takes you in her arms, remembering that it was the place where you felt safest. she immediately regretted going overboard when she did. how could she forget that you weren’t in the right state of mind to entertain her gimmicks? fuck, she felt beyond heartbroken to be the cause of your tears right now when she was supposed to be the very person that made them go away.

“no… no, i’m okay,” you said in tears. once you looked at yujin whose cute face was all scrunched up with worry, you ended up laughing. yujin was so confused. “i promise. you didn’t hurt me, yujin-ah.” you squeezed her shoulder and giggled even more, making yujin laugh in return but in a more… nervous and uncertain way.

“w-wha… are you sure? why are you crying then?” yujin couldn’t help her smile and hug you, rocking you back and forth out of relief. how could yujin ever hurt you, anyway? you knew in your heart that she wasn’t capable of any of that, ever.

“i don’t know… but i’m alright, i swear.” you reached up and kissed her nose. giggles erupt from the two of you when yujin starts attacking your face with kisses—it was all part of her master plan to hear more of your laugh, of course. one of the biggest things she has been missing throughout the weeks she was away. 

eventually, the two of you merely laid still on your bed in each other’s arms once again, staring blankly at the television. you’ve started to feel sleepy too since you did spend a lot of the day crying, and now yujin was threading your soft locks after she fucked you so good that you ended up crying! no wonder you were drowsy. you found yourself laying on top of your girlfriend’s chest, fighting back sleep by blinking it all away and opting to stare at yujin’s face instead. every time she asked you a question (“do you need water?”, “are you cold?”, “should we take a shower together?”) you replied with a lazy hum and weak shake of your head, neither accepting or denying whatever she offered you.

“you look tired, hon… you can take a nap. when you wake up, i’ll either have cooked you dinner or… um, i’ll have ordered our favorite take-out! how do you feel about japanese food tonight?” yujin asks. you hum again, but refuse to fully close your eyes. you opened them every few seconds, seemingly checking if yujin was still there every time you did. of course, yujin notices your intent and pinches your cheek. “i’ll be right here when you wake up. don’t worry.” yujin plants a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“mm… promise?” you pouted. gosh, you were far too cute for yujin’s weak heart.

“of course. we won’t have to worry about running out of time for a while.” yujin pulls a soft, thick blanket over your body and smiles as you immediately start drifting off. she kisses your forehead again, feeling a sudden surge of pure love washing over her as the feeling of having you sleep in her arms again was… home. yujin’s smile widened when she remembered just what she intended to surprise you with if you had seen her message and went with her to that romantic dinner with the sunset.

it was a surprise that she would have to wait another day to unveil—a surprise that came in the form of a breathtaking diamond ring that would’ve completed the beautiful picture that is your love story.

[scwheeler]

♟˖ ࣪⊹ — ‘I KNOW IT WON’T WORK’

pairing: ethan landry x reader

summary: your boyfriend had become distant suddenly but confronting him about it only makes it worse

author’s note: inspired by gracie abrams’ “I know it won’t work” I LOVE THIS SONG AND GRACIE (lyrics will be in orange for reading & red for ethan !!) also you can send in requests and ideas!! #ANGST #SLIGHTSPOILERS

you looked over two seats at ethan who was quickly jotting something down in his notebook. it was a different color than his actual econ notebook and the lecture hadn’t even started yet so you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

but the loud slam of the classroom door shutting snapped you out of your trance. your teacher begun the class and you watched ethan shove the notebook in his backpack through the corner of your eye. however, you completely shrugged it off once the teacher started speaking.

sitting by your friends at the park was finally a peaceful event with all the stormy clouds and rain disappearing. it seemed there were only clear skies and chirping birds around until you faced ethan.

he avoided eye contact and tried to look elsewhere. anywhere. aren’t boyfriends supposed to want to look at their girlfriends? you even reached for his hand once but after he attempted to ‘discreetly’ move his away, you gave up. for a studious little student, he really couldn’t tell how distant he became.

at first you thought it was all in your head. maybe it was the stress building up from your upcoming finals or because of the mysterious murders surrounding your neighborhood. yet your fears were confirmed when even your friends brought it up.

even chad for gods sake!

only a couple of days ago, the friend group was laughing and chattering like a bunch of middle schoolers. you guys were loud enough to be heard from miles away but there was an awkward tension once ethan started to shy away from you.

where was the sweet boy who waited in front of your dorm room for a whole hour before finally knocking and asking you out?

where was your boyfriend who would not let go of your hand while walking around parties? who followed you everywhere that some people even asked if you had a stalker!

where was the boy who messaged tara and mindy a million times about what flowers you like so you would be happy on valentine’s day!?

that boy was obviously not present because your door remained silent. no doorbells or late night knocks for a last minute sleepover.

your hands stayed untouched. the only time he almost reached for it was when he put his hands down to help him getting up and leaving.

you went to parties alone now and instead of sitting on the couch just whispering and gossiping with ethan, you sat on the stairs and waited for mindy and anika to say one of them were too wasted to party anymore.

so after finally mustering up the courage, you marched to his dorm room and knocked on the door. first chad opened the door with a little confused face, “yes?” you ignored him and invited yourself in like a hundred times you’ve done before.

“is ethan here?” you asked and took a look around the dorm. chad shut the door behind you and walked towards you, “yeah he’s in his room, are you gonna talk to him?”

you immediately looked up at him, “oh god did mindy tell you too!?” you groaned and felt like you sunk in a batch of concrete. chad let out a shy laugh, “well we’re worried about you guys, i mean you’re the SECOND best looking couple on campus.”

you lifted an eyebrow and questioned him, “and who’s the first?” “obviously me and tara,” chad answered and went to go sit on the couch. you rolled your eyes at his hubris and approached ethan’s room.

but before, you knocked.

“yes, come in,” you heard ethan say from inside and you carefully turned the bedroom doorknob. “chad if you need help in eco—” ethan turned in his spinning desk chair that you got him last year since you knew he can’t focus with moving around.

he stopped himself at the sight of you and wished he locked the door. “oh y/n. what are you doing here?” he calmly asked as if he didn’t ditch you for the last couple of weeks. you scoffed at his ignorance and shut the door to avoid any eavesdropping from chad.

ethan stayed in his chair and watched you take a seat on his nicely tidy bed. there was an immediate silence that suffocated the room before you decided to speak up first.

your words completely shattered the glass surface evident in the room, “do you still love me?” ethan looked up from ground and met your eyes for the first time in weeks.

“w-what do you mean?!” ethan exclaimed and seemed to be taken aback. “what do i mean?” you repeated. “i mean do you still love me? because you’ve been avoiding me like i’m the fucking black plague! you run away from me as if we’re literally not boyfriend and girlfriend!” you spilled out your emotions onto your so-called boyfriend.

your hand gestures were flying everywhere and all the suppressed feelings of anger and sadness came out. “so please just answer the goddamn question. please,” you pleaded for just one answer.

“y/n, i do love you. i truly do and i have but i just don’t think i can handle a relationship right now. it’s all just too much and with…econ—i can’t balance it,” ethan rambled and lied through his teeth, blaming his avoidance on fucking econ as if you weren’t in the same class.

he wasn’t hearing you out and was just piling excuses on top of excuses. you were sick of it. you wanted to have a civil conversation with him, talk it out like adults or in those cheesy romcoms where the couple makes up in the span of three minutes and a really extravagant song or romantic montage.

you could feel tears approaching the rum of your eyes but held them back with only a few managing to escape into your cheeks. “ethan, part of me wants to walk away 'til you really listen because i hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different,” you were the one avoiding his eyes now. those big brown eyes of his that made you melt like ice cream on a hot summer day.

you wiped the few tears off your face and tried to remain calm. unknown to you though was ethan’s perspective. he wanted to get up and hug you, hold you and say he was sorry. he wanted to bring a dozen roses to your doorstep every night until you forgave him.

he held back his tears and looked up at your teary-eyed face. he thought to himself, ‘cause part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that, huh? why won't you try moving on for once? that might make it easy’ so he looked out the window and muttered, “let’s just break up.”

you bit your lip at the bitter words spit out by the boy you loved with all your heart and continued to even after this moment. you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond and opened the door to escape the suddenly stuffy room.

you ran out of the dorm room, ignoring chad’s questions and words from behind you. you didn’t stop running and hoped the cold air would dry your tears before you friends could see.

out of nowhere, the skies turned grey and for the first time in weeks, there a trickle of rain. even though the distance from your apartments was less than a few minutes, it felt like forever. it started pouring and your clothes were drenched.

you thought about how stupid you were and regretted ever stepping front in his dorm room to begin with. you sat on the stairs in front of your apartment, crying and trying to catch your breath. you could barely keep your eyes open with the rain and your tears drowning you. outside it was dark and you were all alone. except you weren’t.

ethan watched you from his room. his heart ached for you and your tears and he had to restrain himself from running down to you. he clenched his jaw and breathed through his teeth as he watched you slowly get swallowed by the darkness and rain.

i know we cut all the ties but you're never really leaving and part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that.

brrring! brrring!

ethan turns his attention to his phone and honestly hopes it to be you but his hopes falter as he sees the number and picks up the phone. “is it all taken care of?” a voice spoke on the other line.

“yes, she’s out of the picture so we are not going to hurt her.”

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Space Oddity, Part 1

In my ongoing quest to write more self indulgent reader inserts, I present to you: Weird Reader.

Sorry guys, but in school I played with the girls who pretended to be Warrior Cats, and ate lunch with guys who unironically did the Naruto run. The only thing separating me from this reader in this story is the fact that I mask in public and unmask at home.

[Chapter Two]

***

“You want me to play D&D with you guys?”

You watched with suspicious eyes as Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson nodded frantically, stirring the sweet, syrupy dessert of fruit cocktail in your lunch tray compartment. Staring at you was like staring at a taxidermy raccoon: you were dead eyed, but still positioned as though you could jump out and give someone rabies.

If he had been asked at gunpoint, Mike would have admitted that you were a last resort choice.

“Yeah…” Mike said cautiously, trying not to stare directly into your eyes.

Dustin smiled, leaning forward.

“You like D&D, right?” He tried, hopeful.

Everyone they had asked in Hawkins High had so far said no to subbing in for Lucas Sinclair, and Mike had balked at the idea of even thinking of asking you when they got rejected for the fifth time. You were even worse than the freaks of Hawkins High. The collective student body had come together as one to declare that you were a weird, mean bitch.

“I like what I’ve heard of it…” you mumbled, “I never played it before…”

Dustin’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Really?” He asked, his geometric pattern button up nearly dipping into his open can of chocolate pudding, “Never ever? So you’d need to be taught?”

Before you could venture an answer, Mike pulled him back.

“Could you-… Could you just excuse us please? Thank you.”

You nodded slowly while Mike dragged Dustin away to a corner of the bustling lunchroom. While they conversed in hushed whispers, you sat there alone, the students sharing your space giving you a wide berth at the head of the lunch table.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Mike hissed at Dustin, “You’re going to ask The Bitch to play, and she’s never even played D&D before?!”

Mike knew the stories. Robin had once asked to borrow a pencil from your jubilee of pens you kept in the pocket of your shortalls. Reluctantly you agreed, and then you had a meltdown when she took the flat contractor’s pencil with the He-Man sticker on it. Steve had told any of The Party who would listen about his encounter: even Eleven could perfectly recite the story about the weird girl who had flat tired Steve in the hall every day at 9am when he walked by Mrs. Click’s class, ruining the backs of his brown suede moccasins so often that his mom stopped replacing them after a while. His description of the perp matched you exactly.

Even Mike on his first day of school had been subject to your oddities. A casual lunchtime stroll found him tripping over a trap, made of plastic milk crates and dead branches you’d constructed by the football field. The encounter ended with him being subjected to your twenty minute screaming lecture on why it was rude of him to wreck the “houses” you’d made for the skinks that darted around the concrete walkways.

Mike Wheeler hated you because of reputation, but Dustin knew better than to fall victim to heresy. He had seen the drawings of dragons, daleks, dinosaurs, wolves and mermaids on xerox paper you had left behind once in the lunchroom. When he found you to give them back (you didn’t say thank you), he’d been gifted with a drawing a day later in his locker: a very detailed Spock giving the Vulcan salute, “Live Long and Prosper” written underneath in bubble letters above your loopy cursive signature. He still kept it taped to his Geometry folder.

“Dude, yes! Chill out!” Dustin hissed back, looking at you fondly from a distance, “You remember what Eddie said? ‘Find the little lost sheepies that need us’. Look at her, man. Doesn’t that scream little lost sheep to you?”

They turned to look at you simultaneously. After looking both ways to check the coast was clear, you commandeered Dustin’s abandoned chocolate pudding. Spooning the syrupy peaches, pears, pineapple, and single half of maraschino cherry of your fruit cocktail inside, you mixed the chocolate and fruit together. Lathing up the leftover pudding with your tongue, the spoon was licked clean before you tossed it vaguely into an indignant girl’s creamed corn, but she was too afraid to yell at you while you were armed with chocolate.

With great relish you began eating your concoction with your fingers.

Mike grimaced while Dustin just laughed.

“She’s perfect.” Dustin gushed, “And you should see her drawings, they’re badass!”

“Just because she’s a gross weirdo who’s good at drawing doesn’t mean she knows jackshit about tabletop games!” Mike growled, nearly gagging when he saw you mop up the leftover pudding in the can with your bread roll, “You bring a beginner into Hellfire Club, Eddie’s gonna blow a goddamn gasket! He’s already on the warpath because of Lucas’ championship game tonight, can you imagine what he’ll do when we bring in The Bitch?!”

“Mike, relax. Eddie’s not going to know she’s a novice. Everyone still flips through the handbook, they won’t notice if she does it. We’ll give her a crash course, I’ll even let her borrow my Player’s Handbook so she can come in looking like she at least knows the basics. And if Eddie does get pissed we can just… ease him into the idea that a succulent babe wants to play with him.”

Dustin made the shape of a curved figure with his hands, while Mike looked ready to punch him in the groin.

“You think he’s going to fold for a fat girl?” Mike snarled.

“… Shut up Mike,” Dustin said, immediately protective of you, “He’s going to fold for a cute girl. Look at her! Soft arms, round face, thick thighs… Eddie’s gonna lose his goddamn mind, man! That’s like his ideal type.”

They continued to argue back and forth, finally coming to a grudging resolution when Dustin dragged Mike back by the shirt to your lunch table.

“If this goes to shit, I know where you live.” Mike hissed quietly.

“Shhhh!” Dustin slapped Mike’s arm before looking back at you with a dopey grin.

You were staring down both of them, eyes flicking from Dustin to Mike. The empty pudding cup can was sitting exactly where it had been once full before, but the pop top was gone, and you were pretending like you hadn’t just gone to town on an unholy concoction.

“I made a decision.” You said suddenly.

The two freshmen looked at one another, before leaning in closer. Mike looked skeptical, but Dustin’s grin was nearly splitting his face in half.

“I’ll play with you guys.” You said after a few seconds.

Dustin couldn’t help but fist pump into the air, nearly tipping over backwards on his chair while Mike just grimaced like he was about to puke. An imperfect smile with chocolate teeth flashed at the boys, and you were just about to speak when Mike stopped the party.

“Okay, listen… if you’re going to play, you’re going to have to put in the work, it’s not like playing Monopoly.” He said, staring you down, “This is serious shit.”

You closed your mouth, head tilting to the side.

“Oh… I thought it was like, making your own characters and pretending to be them and stuff.” You said.

“It is, but it’s a lot more nuanced than that. Our Advanced D&D campaigns are different. We play very combat heavy sessions, we use actual strategy in battle. It’s not a goddamn tea party.”

“And Eddie takes the rules very seriously…” Dustin chimed in, “So we’ll have to familiarize you with the basics.”

“Eddie!?”

Both boys jumped back as you banged your hands on the table, getting up close and nearly crawling on top over to them. The students sitting next to you collectively jumped, the metal legs of their chairs scraping and making a horrid screech against the linoleum flooring.

“You mean… you’re talking about Eddie The Freak, right?” You hissed under your breath.

“Eddie Munson.” Dustin corrected, frowning when you called him a freak, “He’s the dungeon master of our club… of Hellfire Club.”

Your eyes widened, and your chest began to rise and fall rapidly.

“You’re right though. That is the very same freak.” Mike cut in, lowering his pitch hoping that feeding into the negativity would scare you away, “He’s a dick to newcomers. You might get the boot if he finds out we brought you in without having any background knowledge of D&D.”

His words made you shrink back, looking at your lunch tray and the little mess of chocolate you’d unknowingly splattered on your clothes. Dustin could have killed Mike, while the latter just looked smug.

And then… you began to giggle.

“Okay…” you smiled.

“Okay?!” Mike and Dustin repeated.

Mike managed to speak up while Dustin was still picking his smiling jaw up off the floor.

“You’re sure you still want to play?” Mike asked, panicking as he pulled out all the stops to get you to quit, “Eddie is not a patient guy with new players, he’s going to rip you to pieces and sacrifice you to the devil!”

You nodded quickly, breathlessly hyperventilating.

“Yeah…! I… If Eddie Munson is running the game… I really wanna play.”

Dustin gave a high pitched giggle of his own and shook Mike’s shoulder, absolutely loving the way your face broke out into a goofy grin. You didn’t even flinch at Mike’s attempts to scare you.

“You got a thing for him or something?” Mike ventured cautiously.

“Yes.”

You answered so unabashedly, with no hesitation, that for a minute it actually endeared you to Mike. Who knew that The Bitch of Hawkins High was actually a human being with wants and needs?

“Wait… are you serious?” Mike asked.

“Uh huh…”

You giggled, biting your lower lip and covering your burning face.

“I think… I think he’s really hot…”

If they had been drinking Tab, they would have spit the liquid out all over you.

“You think Eddie’s hot?” Dustin wheezed.

“Yeah… um… I’ve had this like monster crush on Eddie since I was in fifth grade. He did like this talent show and played the guitar real good, and he’s all loud and funny and crazy and I think he’s got a real charming smile…”

The cadence in your already deep contralto was lilting into a mezzo soprano the more you talked about their sadistic dungeon master, and you were rocking side to side in your plastic chair while Dustin and Mike just watched you make a complete ass of yourself.

This probably would have turned into two hours of blabbing, had not Mike refocused you and Dustin and begun to actually lay out the basics of TSR’s Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. No time to lose, back to business. If you were going to play with Eddie you had a lot of catching up to do. They had a spare set of dice, and Mike helped you roll for stats as Dustin began to write out a crude character sheet for you based on your imaginative ideas.

“We can probably make you a character very quickly.” Mike said, flipping through his own Mead Composition notebook as he checked past characters that had died valiantly in battle, “I have one you can use. Barbarians are stupid easy for first timers since you’re just hitting shit with a sword-...”

“I want a character based on my story I’m writing!” You exclaimed, and then you subjected Mike to your brief (lie) synopsis of one of many witchy characters who was cursed by a dark goddess.

It took a lot of adjusting and words that held no meaning to you, like “Domain of Trickery” and “Cleric of Shar”. The two freshmen helped you settle on a character that would be deemed useful for Hellfire’s campaign, and made sure to force feed you every rule and spell that Gygax and Arneson had conceived for your chosen class. True to his word, Dustin let you borrow the Player’s Handbook he carried with him at all times when the bell to conclude lunch rang out. You took it with promises that you’d give it back when you met them outside of the drama room later after school, already burying your nose in the pages when you walked off to your class.

The boys saw a different side of you that possibly no one else in the school ever had: a familiar side, a human side. A side that was brutally honest and sometimes a little mean, but just as vulnerable and relatable as anyone else. A consensus had been reached during their shared English class: you were definitely weird, but actually pretty smart and imaginative. Possibilities of keeping you on as a permanent member were being discussed when Dustin and Mike found you hiding behind the lockers just outside the drama room around three pm.

“What are you doing?” Mike asked.

You shook your head, clutching your fat trapper keeper to your chest and handing Dustin back his Player’s Handbook.

“Eddie’s in there…” you muttered, chewing on the spine of your trapper keeper covered in duct tape

“Yeah, he usually gets there with Jeff, Gareth and Frank really early, to set up the map and the dice towers.” Mike nodded.

From the rectangular slat of a window, one could see Gareth and Frank meticulously setting up Jenga pieces and miniatures on top of a slab of butcher paper marked in sharpie, janky cindrilical tubes painted to look like castle towers were set up at each place at the table (the dice towers, fashioned from Pringles cans, cardboard, glue and paint). Eddie and Jeff were deep in conversation, plugging in lamps and electric candelabras left over from the drama club’s last production of ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Inside the mood was almost holy, reverent (or like Eddie liked to call it: a softcore porn on Valentine’s day mood), and the boys couldn’t help the eagerness as they went to the door.

You, however, stayed firmly planted behind the lockers.

“What are you doing?!” Mike hissed, “Come on! We’re gonna be late because of you!”

“I don’t wanna go in…!” You snapped back, suddenly shy.

Mike looked at Dustin, ready to destroy him, while Dustin tried to talk you down.

“Hey, hey! Come on, it’s okay. Don’t worry! You have a good character, and if you need help you can just sit with me and Mike-…”

“But what if he doesn’t like me?” You protested.

“I swear to you on my mother that Eddie is going to love you.” Dustin said, trying to calm you down, “You’re great. You actually came with a character to play, and he’s going to be so happy that a girl is showing interest in his hobbies.”

You were about to turn tail and leave when you felt an iron grip around the meat of your bicep, pulling you forward with an unnatural strength born entirely of Nerd Rage.

“Oh hell no!” Mike said, pulling you kicking and protesting towards the door, “You’re not doing this to me right now god dammit! You’re going to get your ass in there, and you’re going to play! I didn’t sit through lunch listening to your weird edgy character backstory just so you could pussy out at the last minute! Now get your ass. In. NOW!”

With a harsh shove, you flew into the drama room – tripping on your own two feet trying to catch yourself – and spilling the contents of your trapper keeper all over the ground. Strong hands caught you before you face planted into the floor, holding you steady.

“Easy, easy!” Called out a familiar voice, “Goddamn... What the hell was that for, Mike?! You could’ve broken her nos-…”

Eddie Munson’s voice trailed off, and the boys watched as their fearless leader, their metalhead bard, began to stare open mouthed slack jawed at you.

“You told us to find a lost sheep.” Mike snarled, “So here she is.”

[faeriekit]

Things Long Gone

for a phic phight prompt from @armed-with-knitting-needles

Edward Lancer woke up the same way he did every morning.

He rolled out of bed. Brushed his teeth. Changed into a button-up and a tie, and slacks he wouldn’t hate throughout the course of the day.

He made his coffee like he did every day: he stuck his thermos under the machine, waited with a slice of toast until the coffee maker stopped pouring, and capped it in one smooth motion that shook its contents until everything was relatively mixed inside. No sweetners. No sugar. No milk.

Great. Ed went to grab his keys…

…His keys weren’t on the hook.

He blinked, hand frozen in its attempt so reach what wasn’t there. His. Where were his keys? He’d had them yesterday.

…He was pretty sure he’d had them yesterday. Hadn’t he gone to see Lizzy and the new baby? His sister had been so excited to show Charlotte off to her new uncle. Ed had been excited to go.

…Whatever. Amity Park was relatively walkable; as long as he dashed, he could get there in time.

So, off he jogged, into the hot, early morning, sweating and puffing as he went.

*

Ed made to the school entrance just as the bell rang for first period. He sighed, struggling for air—but at least he’d be able to swap in for Mrs. Keppler’s math course this morning. Man, he felt as if he’d run every class at this point. They might as well make him the—

Something invisible SLAMMED into his face.

His nose crunched. Ed swore in every classic title he knew, stumbling back and grabbing at his nose—ugh, and his fingers were coming away wet. He had to go see the nurse, or, more likely, the hospital. He was later than ever, but he’d have to—

He tried for the door again. Again, something stopped him.

…Ed frowned. He rapped against the invisible boundary with his knuckles. It was probably ghosts, again, but this was unusually…static. Benign?

“Ed, good heavens! What happened to your face?”

Ed turned around, nose slowly beginning to swell up in his hands as Ms. Cathleen Rylant stalked up the walkway to the school. “G’Morning,” he grunted, unable to summon the capacity for proper pronunciation. “I…seem to be blocked from getting into the building.”

Cathleen frowned. Her shoulder bag was pulled higher onto her thin, elderly shoulder: a nervous gesture. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ed! Is there anything…”

“Do you mind testing it for me?” Ed tried, carefully cupping the blood he could feel from dripping down onto his dress shirt. “If it affects you, or is unique to me…”

There were a few ghosts that targeted individuals. Ed had some surety that the genie ghost had gotten him to ‘call out from school’ today—there was a text today, and he would not put it past

“Got it,” the elderly science teacher offered sweetly. Cathleen was a gift, truly. “Was it…?”

Ed smacked a hand against the barrier. There was no visible sign of it—no distortion, no ripple, no change in color.

“Got it.” Cathleen—and her much more fragile bones—carefully put a hand out, expecting to be able to put her weight on it.

She just barely caught her balance before falling onto the concrete step. Ed reached out a hand to help her, and, of course, ended up with bruised fingers for the trouble. He swore.

“Huh,” she said. “…Well, I’m late for first period anyway; want me to tell Yuuko what’s holding you up?”

Ed sighed. He reminded himself that informing their principal would be best, considering the circumstances… “Yes, please. Thank you, Cathleen.”

“No problem, Ed.”

And Edward Lancer sat on the front step of the school, back leaned against nothing, and waited to see what could be done for him.

He took his hand away from his nose to reach for his coffee.

…His blood wasn’t red.

Ed’s blood went cold.

Wait. Why had—

—Screeching tires, metal SLAMMED into its final place, snapping, cracking, the lights cutting out, a choked last breath—

…Ed’d had his car yesterday. Why didn’t he have it this morning?

“I’m imagining things,” Ed muttered to himself. He wiped the green blood onto the back of his clean plants and resolved to wait for Principal Ishiyama.

*

Mr. Lancer was still outside the school by the time lunch rolled around.

“So he’s just…hanging out?” Sam asked around a mouthful of vegan-and-cruelty-free sushi, staring from their place under the tree at their teacher and his crowd of educational professionals.

Danny shrugged. He swallowed a bite of ham-and-baloney. “Looks like,” he observed. They watched as Mr. Lancer proved, again, that no matter how hard his middle-age-professional bulk heaved and pushed, there was no getting past the entryway into the school.

“…Huh.” Sam took a second bite. Across the yard, Mr. Lancer slipped on the invisible barrier, and everyone got closer to help pick him off the ground. “Any idea why this is happening?”

Danny put his sandwich down. He didn’t say anything.

Sam turned to look at him. “Danny?”

“…I saw an accident on the way home with Dad last night,” Danny offered quietly. He picked a little speck of nothing off of his sandwich. “The two cars were bent in half at the bottom of the ravine. There were rescue trucks and police all over the other side of the highway; cars were backed up for like four exits behind it. One of the cars looked like Mr. Lancer’s gray crapbox, but it’s not like I could get a good look…”

Sam went quiet. Danny stayed quiet.

They watched as Mr. Lancer explained, again, for the nineteenth time, that he couldn’t get into the school, and didn’t know why.

“…Oh,” said Sam. She set her chopsticks down.

“Mmhmm.” Danny swallowed. “Uh…looks like Mom’s updates on the ghost shields are working, though.”

“No kidding,” Sam echoed absently.

Eventually, lunch was over. When they went back inside, half-eaten lunches packed back up to take home for later, the distant figure of Mr. Lancer was still outside the school door, hoping to be let back in.

[luza-wayne]

twins even when it comes to love.

miya atsumu x reader x miya osamu

1.8k words

i swear there's nothing weird here, but fluffy stuff! BELEIVE ME

running as fast as you can, you narrowly missed everyone you passed by. huffing heavily, you turned to a corner and saw the door you were desperately trying to reach.

you hold it and slide it open. you stepped in smiling widely.

“safe!” you expressed wiping your face from the sweat.

“you really should try waking up earlier.” suna shouted from his seat.

“yeah, yeah. you should wake up earlier.” osamu added.

you narrowed your eyes and looked at his way. you walked to your chair, which is right in front of him.

“look at sir miya osamu, getting ahead of himself just because he got here earlier than usual. you're always just a little earlier than me, sir.” you scoffed as you placed your things to the side but he just grinned and took a bite on the onigiri he's eating, this early in the morning.

“are you on class duty today?” you asked him and he shook his head sideways. “then why are you early today?”

“i'm readying myself.” he answered briefly.

“for what?” you inquired, looking at him intently.

“later, i'll tell you.” he brushed off and ate the whole thing in his hand.

time passed by fastly and it's already time to return home. you fixed your things so that you can go home already.

while checking your notebook for the last time, you saw a different paper than yours, slipping out of it. you picked it up and read it.

‘go to the rooftop. i'll be waiting there.’

“are you really sure you're going to do this, bro?” suna asked his friend again.

“for the fourth time, yes, i am.” osamu answered laughing, but his hands were shaking inside the pocket of his jacket.

“yeah, i know you answered my same question four times already, but we're still here in the bathroom and you won't even step out of the door and go to the rooftop already.” suna pointed that made osamu's knees almost collapse, but he managed to stay standing by holding on to the concrete sink.

“i feel like i want to throw up all the onigiri i've eaten in my whole life, because of my nervousness.” osamu expressed, but suna just formed a straight line along his lips.

he reached for his phone when he felt it vibrate, while osamu talked to himself. atsumu messaged the middle blocker about the whereabouts of his other twin since he wasn't answering his phone. well, osamu turned it off the whole day, thinking it might break his concentration.

suna thought that maybe atsumu could help bring the courage out of osamu and he texted him what osamu was about to do.

suna wondered as to why atsumu only read his message and didn't reply. maybe he doesn't want to help. he thought and just sighed.

“okay. i'll really do this now.” osamu muttered looking at himself from the mirror. suna's head immediately returned to him, smiling. finally, after hours of talking to himself and getting ready. 

he bravely opened the door and started to walk in the roof's direction and suna behind him, for support.

while walking, suna remembered what he did just earlier.

“ah, i forgot to mention, i told atsumu that you are going to confess to her at the rooftop, but he didn't answer back. guess he doesn't want to h—” he stopped talking when osamu suddenly turned around looking at him with a surprised face.

“what—” he didn't even finish talking when osamu started sprinting to the rooftop. he didn't know what was happening, so he just followed osamu.

“hey! why are you running?!” he asked him as they got closer to the location.

“that pissed-hair rat…” osamu started. they finally arrived at the door to the rooftop. he opened it and saw the scene.

“i like you. would you be my girlfriend?” 

“...likes her too.” he finished. suna widened his eyes, even though it's not evident.

atsumu was standing in front of you, both his hands in his pockets, while you looked at him, puzzled.

you just went here on the rooftop to know why that person wanted you here, but you didn't expect to get confessed to.

not only by some random schoolboy, but it's a guy from the famous volleyball team.

‘is this real?’

‘earlier he almost broke the door when he opened it. he was breathing heavily, looking around and was relieved when he saw i'm the only person here.’

‘but, he suddenly turned confident and confessed when the door opened.’

‘who came in anyways?’ you looked at the door and saw almost the same thing as earlier.

a person who had the same face as the one in front of you, breathing hard. the only different thing is that there's someone with him.

“osamu, rintarou…” you called their names.

atsumu took a step closer to you. you lightly flinched and turned your head to him. 

“forget about him, focus on me.” atsumu was about to take another step, but you felt someone pulling you lightly behind them.

you looked up and were able to get the hint of the smell of osamu's perfume.

“what makes you think you can confess to her?” osamu asks his twin.

“what? isn't that what you're going to do also? trying to get ahead, too bad suna told me about your plan.” atsumu smirks.

“what?” you thought out loud. you looked at suna with confused eyes, he just nodded depleted.

he asked you to come close to him with his hands. you sneakily walked to his side, while the twins fought in their own world.

“you were asking why osamu is early today, even though he's not on duty today, right?” he said and you nodded. 

“well, it took him weeks to have the courage to tell you his feelings for you and decided to do it today, but he's so nervous that he wasn't able to sleep, so he just went to school early.” he said, shaking his head, recalling the moments.

“then, just now i messaged atsumu about what osamu was about to do, but i didn't know   atsumu also shared the same feelings for you. they might be twins, but falling for the same person is—”

“wait, wait, wait.” you halted him from talking and thought for a while, before laughing. “information that's coming in is too much for my brain capacity, i'm not even sure if i heard everything right?” you said laughing to yourself.

“you said they both like me?” you repeated, looking at the two.

“yeah, that's right.” suna answered and it made you chortled again. “what? you don't like them?” 

you stopped your laughter and looked at him. 

“it's not like i don't like them, but i'm not interested in anyone as of the moment.” you confessed.

“then why not one of them?” he joked, pointing to the two.

“eh? the two?” you said and looked at them, still bickering.

“i'm the better twin, you piss-hair.” osamu mocked.

“huh?! i'm clearly the better one! everyone can tell!” atsumu fought back.

“just shut up and go to practice. go play volleyball.” osamu lightly pushed atsumu back to the door.

“yeah, and i can make her happy when i become a pro one day, move!” he flicked osamu's arm off of him.

“huh?! like you playing volleyball can make her full?! i can make her onigiri and feed her!” osamu said, pinching the other one's cheeks.

“of course, i can! by that time, i'm already a pro, which means i'll get paid for every game i play!” atsumu shouted back and pulled osamu's hair.

suna looked at your worried face while you watched their petty fight. “ah, you see they also had an argument the other day because osamu decided not to continue playing volleyball after high school.”

‘i can't believe these two. they're really doing this in front of the person they like.’ suna thought and facepalmed.

“i can do that too! i'll put up a business for our future and if you want, i'll invite you to our wedding.” osamu smirked at his brother.

“huh?! you're the one getting invited to our wedding, but you don't really have to attend.” atsumu replied, grinning wider.

you sighed and continued to stare at them. 

“i'm pleased to know that they don't just want a temporary relationship and they're actually thinking about their future with me, but... they're thinking too far ahead!” you shouted, but the two weren't even listening.

“you turd! i can give her 20 babies!” atsumu added.

“shut up! i can give her as many as she wants!” osamu said, still not backing down.

you raised your brows and tilted your head sideways. 

“hey! how did the topic turn into that?” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

“they didn't even ask if you wanted children.” suna commented.

“in the first place, why are they fighting like they're sure i'll choose one of them? what if i reject both of them? haha.” you joked at suna, but that statement was enough to halt the twins and looked at you.

“ah, they stopped.” suna denoted that made you fixed your eyes to the two, who now have a petrified look on their face.

they let go of each other and walked to you.

“eh?” you muttered as they got closer to you. you took a step back.

“do you like someone else?” osamu asked worriedly.

“no. i don't— i mean as i said earlier, right now, i don't.” you cleared.

“then do you like one of us?” atsumu leaned down to you. you shoved him away lightly by his chest. 

he decided to hold your hand that's still on his chest, wanting you to feel his heartbeat. you immediately looked up at him. 

feeling like you need to do something too, to get your attention. osamu chose to romantically hold your hand and kissed the back of it. after giving it some smooches, he placed it on his cheeks. you felt his soft and clear skin that you always note whenever you stare at his face when you talk to him.

you are unable to know what you should do or say, so you end up gazing back and forth at their dark blue and hazel eyes.

“ehem. what the fuck am i witnessing?” suna cleared his throat enough for all of you to remember that you have another person here on the rooftop.

you all looked at the rare disgusted face of suna and broke off from all the touching.

“uh... uhm... i need some time to think.” you asked them, but you were surprised when they both bowed down. 

“w-what?”

“you don't have to rush. we'll patiently wait for you.” osamu said, straightening his upper body and giving you a smile.

“we can be a jerk sometimes, but what i'm feeling is true and i just know samu's too. that's why you can take your time.” atsumu added and smiled with closed eyes.

you don't know why, but their statement made your heart flutter, it weirdly made you chuckle.

“thank you, you two.” 

then, the bell rang and the four of you returned to your rooms. 

hope you enjoyed that one, because i did. reblogs would be much appreciated!

if you'd like to support me and my broke ass, you can tip me at my ko-fi acc! thank you very much!

also, if you'd like to see my nsfw works and early access, i opened up my patreon. hope you support me.

[lavender-at-heart]

Could you write Bella swan x tall fem vampire reader? I need reader to feed on humans that are criminals and almost always smokin a cigarette

Omg yes gay Bella is the best version of her. THIS FIC IS NOT COMPLETED, I FELT BAD FOR TAKING SO LONG SO HERES A SHORT VERSION, I WILL ADD TO IT SOON WOTH A MUCH LONGER ENDING!!!! if you want to be tagged in the finish product lmk. Also there are themes of sa (think alleyway scene in first movie) and I know that's an uncomfortable subject so I kinda glazed over and left out detail for that part.

Bella Swan let out a huff of boredom as she walked down the dreary street. An attempt to regain her friendship with Jessica ended up with Jess being spooked. Bellas new tastes were too "extreme " for her and now Bella was left alone, outside the movie theater in Port Angeles. A little miffed but not unpleasant to be alone again, she decided to not make waste of the evening out. Unsure of where to go, she headed forward, down the dark path of concrete, narrowly missing a chance ride on a motorcycle. Bella was in a dark place. Mentally, always, but right now her mind led her to enter a particularly dingey alley way. Her heart seemed to pull her towards the dark abyss before her, much like how her heart pulled her towards biology class on her first day at Forks High.

As she neared a turn in the path a sinking feeling began to creep up her spine. A feeling she had not felt since...

There was a man. Smoking, head turned pointedly towards the ground. He stood there like a beacon to Bella.

Something to make him see me

The man looked up, with that familiar look. Sinister comments laced with something sickly sweet, and Bella knew he'd come running. He had to have, surely he would. The man was not shy in his approach, and Bella did her best to stay calm. Every seccond her safety grew thin. Every minute she took one apprehensive step back. Until there were no more steps to take. Just keep it up for a little while longer, she told herself. He'll be here any moment.

But that moment never came. The sinking realization that Bella was alone with this man, and Edward was nowhere to be found made her stomach drop.

Just when she was about to really try to scream and run, the man was shoved to the wall opposite to Bella, the speed of it whooshing in her face. She knew what it was, the who was not certain. Her headt skipped wildly.

He came! After all!

These thoughts were cut short after she quickly realized her saviour was female. Maybe Alice had seen her in danger and come to the rescue. But this was not Alice. Not Alice, not Esme, not Rosalie, not even Victoria.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to harass pretty girls?"

The metallic tone dripped from the vampires lips, before a crunch was heard. This was no vegetarian, that's for sure. Bella stood, stuck to the wall like flies in a glue trap. Not afraid as she once was, but she knew how crazed normal vampires could be.

Once she was done drinking she turned around with a cool look on her face.

"Thanks" the human girl replied with ample sincerity.

The vampire held a quizzical expression. No fear? No running? No concern or confusion? Seeing this, quiet Bella made an attempt to explain.

"I've been around vampires before"

"Ah" was all the ethereal woman said. The way she said it reminded her of him.

She reached into her old denim jeans and retrieved a cigarette of all things. How odd, Bella thought. She let out a huff of laughter. The flame from the lighter contrasted with cool toned skin, followed by a drag and blow of smoke. The woman looked at her cigarette and spoke again.

"Started as a human, was never able to kick it. Not like it can kill me anyway." She outstretched her hand and offered Bella the cigarette. Bella looked meek and wide eyed. Not wanting to seem "uncool" She took it and gave it a try. She inhaled wrong, she exhaled wrong and then coughed too much. The woman laughed and gave her a pat on the back, red eyes crinkled with amusement.

"you're just a baby aren't ya?"

Bellas face turned beet red. "No I'm not, I just, just never had one before." She stuttered out.

"Breathe in a little, hold, breathe out."

Bella tried to listen to the advice given to her but all she could focus on was the way her voice hit the air. A warm feeling filled her despite the cold weather. A parasitic curiosity filled her. Who was she? Where was she from? How old? Name? Favorite this? Favorite that? Bella wanted to know everything and anything about her, immediately. She knew she would follow this woman to the ends of the earth, and Edward could go fuck himself.

[dahliasheep]

yes, absolutely @306saint ! if you're interested in a time period in particular, let me know and maybe i can give you specific advice, but otherwise :

the first thing i do if i want to learn about fashion in an era is to find art by contemporaries of that era, and to identify and compare people by social class and age. what shows up again and again? what do people wear in the street? at home? for my own research into the 1790s, i went to a museum and took a bunch of pictures of people in crowd scenes

if there's a very popular silhouette that defines that time (like the empire waist dress, the miniskirt in the 1960s), i try to identity what it's inspired by, and what comes before it : is it a natural evolution of that silhouette, or is it reacting to and opposing it? what are they trying to tell people with their clothes? comparing an outfit to what comes immediately before it will tell you so much about it, and even more if there's a specific historical event that happened around that time : a war, a revolution, a drastic regime change

usually what i will do is look at some art and draw my impressions based on that, and then i try to refine them in smaller details, that i might not have seen at first glance but will become more obvious to me as i become more familiar with the era. you also start picking up on popular fabrics, colors, hairstyles, accessories. and the thing is that there's really some small but key details that will firmly place your designs in an era, and that's something you will get a sense for as you go

so my concrete advice is to compare and contrast, and get some idea of major events and trends contemporary to the fashion that you're interested in, because that often really makes things click for me

but do beware of the misattributed pinterest dress ! try to find blogs, instagram accounts etc that list dates and creators for fashion. if you google "1880s women fashion", you WILL get a bunch of very wrong results. i would suggest doing research through specific designers or painters instead, or newspapers if these are around, and really pay attention to the years. post 1780s, fashion moves fast and the exact year can be important

also ! beware the treacherous 19th century artist! they will paint historical scenes but use contemporary fashion. it's fun though, i love being able to identify that a painting of marie-antoinette was made in the 1880s because of the shape of her skirt

(art by georges cain and james tissot respectively : james tissot is a great painter for fashion research, the clothes in his paintings are so detailed)

[annievrse]

tonight you are mine

guitarist!eren x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: sasha invites you to a gig with her new band, which leads to a certain guitarist taking an immediate interest in you. warnings: she/her pronouns, a little suggestive (not really), singing (yes, this is a warning). w/c: 3k a/n: i took this from my other blog, rewrote it for eren, and here we are. i will admit it was lazy of me, but i love that fic so much i had to have it for eren <3 [images from pinterest].

“I promise you’ll love them. They’re like brothers to me,” Sasha giggled. “This is gonna be awesome!” 

You smiled as she spoke over the sound of her Doc Martens slapping the concrete. Sasha carried a tote bag full of what you didn’t know. All you had was your phone and a lip gloss tube, clueless about why Sasha insisted on taking so many belongings to the gig. 

Sasha only joined her band as a lead singer last month, and you hadn’t seen them perform yet. After almost failing your mid-terms, you and Sasha met at a study group last semester. You were in different majors, so hang-outs weren’t as frequent, hence why you hadn’t met her other friends yet–save for Jean, who had ploughed into a study session and demanded Sasha’s attention one afternoon and ended with the three of you in a club. Only this semester did you actually share another class with Sasha and Jean, which allowed you to become closer. You had never met the other two original band members – Eren and Armin, and the rest of her friend group – Connie and Mikasa, who both had no musical bones in their bodies. 

Sasha had you listen to some demos over the few weeks she had been a part of it all, and you were beyond proud of your friend.

“I think there’ll be a huge turnout tonight. Eren told his college friends, and Armin invited his study group. But Mikasa is visiting her brother and Connie… I assume he’s gonna show up; who knows, though,” Sasha shook her head. “Anyway, I can’t wait to get out there,” She grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her lips. “Aren’t you so excited? I am. I want you to hear these songs so badly.” 

Your heart doubled in size as you listened. Sasha was completely enamoured with the band despite only being in it for a short period, and you guessed that’s what made the boys so grateful to have her around—she was just as passionate as they were. 

You smiled brightly at her and nodded. “I’m so proud of you, Sash. Soon, I’ll be waiting hours to get front-row at your concerts.” Then you widen your eyes jokingly. “I’ll have to fight teenagers to get tickets!”  

Sasha stopped you and turned toward you. She wore a giddy smile and shook her head. “You won’t be in line. You’ll be backstage. Duh.” Then she latched onto your other arm and shook your shoulders, both of you sharing the same elation, laughing together.

“Hey! What’re you girls doing?” A voice called from a car. You didn’t think Sasha’s smile could get any bigger until she peeked around you to wave at her bandmate. Jean sat in his beat-up Subaru on the curb. Sasha grabbed your hand and pulled you along toward the car. 

“Just discussing our future success,” She exclaimed, opening the passenger door and sliding in. You got in the backseat and watched Sasha yank the aux cord from Jean’s hand. Jean rolled his eyes and put his foot on the accelerator, pulling away from the sidewalk and back into the traffic. 

“Hi, Y/n,” Jean greeted, ignoring Sasha’s rambling about a new song she heard. 

You smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “Hey, you ready?”

Jean nodded, wincing at the volume of the music that started playing before he shouted over the music. “Born ready.” 

Sasha sang the lyrics to a song you’d never heard before Jean turned it down. “How did your date with Nic go? You never got back to me.” 

Sasha instantly reddened. Niccolo was a guy in her food technology class who had asked her out with beef ravioli and roses. “Good…” 

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” You laugh. Sasha spun around in her seat, her grin wide. 

“Ugh, fine! Since you both want to hear about it so bad,” She teased. 

Jean shook his head. “Not really, I was just being nice...” He mumbled. 

Sasha ignored him as she spoke. “It was so perfectly incredible! The pasta was mind-blowing, and he brought this wine, and when I tell you, it was perfectly paired with the beef, oh! Everything was so perfect.” 

“Perfect, huh?” Your lips were pulled into a side smile at how often she used the word ‘perfect’. 

“It’s okay to be jealous, Y/n,” Sasha laughed, then she cupped her mouth playfully so only Jean could hear. “She hasn’t gotten with anyone for months.” Sasha threw you a teasing look and a cheeky smile before returning her gaze to the road. 

Your mouth opened and closed after hearing her, no words forming on your lips as Jean laughed. You sighed obnoxiously and turned your attention to your phone. The pair in the front shared a few whispers before Jean spoke.

“We’re sorry, Y/n. I bet there’ll be someone here tonight. There’s a lot of people coming.” He said, no hint of sarcasm in his tone. You met his eyes through the rearview mirror. “But I know Eren needs some, too, jeez!” 

Sasha slapped Jean on the shoulder. “No! I will not let him anywhere near my beautiful Y/n.” It was the first time since this morning that you’d heard her voice so serious. “She will not be his rebound.” 

“Yeah, I don’t want to be a rebound, Jean. But thanks, though.” You falsely smiled and looked out the window. The sun had started setting a half hour ago, and the sky was painted a deep tangerine. 

“Just saying! Ever since he broke up with Historia, he’s been so pissed off. Nearly had my head on a stick because I ordered tomatoes on his sandwich. He’s fucking crazy!” 

You had heard stories of Eren, mostly from Sasha. Tall, green-eyed, goofy, and moody. He intrigued you, yet you’d never seen him. 

“Okay, Y/n. Jean and I are going backstage for like 20 minutes. Will you be okay on your own? I don’t want to leave you alone, and I know you hate that.” Sasha explained as the car pulled into a parking spot behind the small venue. 

You nodded in approval and got out of the car.  “Yeah, that’s fine, don’t worry about me. Go be a rockstar.” 

You stood at the front of the crowd, securing the spot the moment you entered the doors of the building. As expected, the venue was packed. Knowing Sasha was beyond ecstatic, you didn't doubt she was a little nervous. 

Your mouth was sticky from the fresh layer of lip gloss you applied not 2 minutes ago, and you moved your lips together to ensure it was evenly coated. You wiped the corners of your mouth with your fingertips, and a short cough rang through the room, indicating one of the band member's microphones was on. You looked up and noticed an unfamiliar set of eyes focused on you. Your gaze quickly darted away to notice Jean already sitting at his place behind the drums and again to see another new face on the other side of the stage. A boy with blonde hair held a bass guitar. All who was missing from the stage was Sasha. 

Suddenly, the lights turned a deep purple, and the chords of ‘Monodrama’ started playing through the speakers. You looked back towards the first guy whose hair hung in his eyes as he plucked at his guitar strings, his body hunched over slightly. You watched him in curiosity and confusion. Were they starting without Sasha? 

But your question was soon answered when Sasha came running out on stage, a microphone up to her lips as she sang the first line. Your face broke out in a smile. As the song continued, you saw her become more comfortable in front of this many people. She pointed at you and jumped around. 

You nodded to the beat, mouthing the lyrics you knew before your eyes drifted to the brunette electric guitarist. Eren. As he played, his eyes met yours again. His dimples indented his face as he smirked, tongue poking his right cheek. You felt your face go warm, and soon, he leaned forward into his mic to join Sasha on the chorus. You were in awe of how well their voices went together. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t afraid to show it. 

Eren opened his eyes to see you staring at him after the chorus. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched you sing the words to the song he wrote. Sure, many girls had done exactly what you were doing, but the difference was he knew who you were—Sasha’s best friend. The girl who his bandmate never shut up about, and Eren had been eager to meet you. He continued your minor stare-off, grinning smugly to himself when you broke the eye contact, a smile of your own pulling at your lips. 

The lights had turned blue throughout the song, highlighting Eren's high cheekbones and jawline. You had to force your eyes away from him to gain control over yourself.

Once the fourth song ended, Sasha spoke to Eren before she went backstage for a break. Her shoes were killing her. Four songs of jumping around. Four songs of a game of cat and mouse to start between you and Eren. One would look away when the other glanced in their direction, and only thrice had you caught each other staring.

You watched as Eren walked up to the lead microphone, his Converse only feet away from you. Expecting a new song to start, you kept your eyes on the bass drum to stop yourself from looking up at Eren. You didn’t expect him to take a step forward and crouch before you. Your eyebrows raised when he held your gaze, his fingers moving in a lazy come hither motion. When you pushed onto your toes, he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath on your neck. His palm rested on the side of your neck, no doubt feeling your pulse racing.

“Next one’s for you.” He said. His voice was so thick you’d think this throat was lined with honey, golden and sweet, and the crowd around you faded as your ears rang. Eren pulled away from you and used his ring-clad finger to brush the tip of your nose. Your ears went hot, and you took a deep breath to control your racing heart.

Maybe being a rebound wasn't such a bad idea when the culprit looked like him. Sasha would have your neck for even thinking that.

The room turned green, and for a second, you thought you must've fallen into a dream. Eren towered over you, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip as he adjusted the microphone stand, maintaining eye contact with you. It was a sensual moment that should only occur in the depths of the night in a bedroom. His dimples and devilish smile were the cause of the butterflies in your stomach, and you had never felt under such scrutiny. But it was an illusive feeling to be the focal point of his attention.

You knew the song as soon as Eren started playing. Tonight You Are Mine. The sound brought you out of your daze. 

“This is a new song I wrote, like, last week,” Eren said before the crowd cut him off. His soft laugh echoed through the room as the noise died, his eyes finding yours again. “We’re gonna play it for you tonight if that’s okay?” 

Sasha gave you the demo of this one only four days ago, as she said you needed to hear it before tonight’s show. The song was one she was excited to learn, and who were you to deny her of sharing her passion? So you listened. And you listened and listened and told Sasha it was your favourite yet. And it was. The song was wholly sultry, and you returned to it each time you put your headphones on.

She must’ve passed on the news. 

In a sense, I'm such a mess watching you The air is cold, so hard to breathe Still, your breath is all I see

You could hardly breathe when he looked at you like that, played his guitar, and sang intimate lyrics to you. You were utterly entranced by his voice, hands, and smile. He looked ethereal on stage, like he was destined to be on one. 

Don't be so naive You know that you are all I see

To your disappointment and relief, he broke eye contact with you only a few times—you weren’t sure how long you could stand under his intimidating and dizzying gaze. 

But, it only spurred you on more. It made you believe you also had some power in this uncharted territory. You watched him sing through your eyelashes, the rasp in his voice making you warm. 

So let me slip inside your ultraviolet disguise The daylight holds you close But tonight, you are mine

Eren’s eyes were heavy-lidded as he played through the guitar solo. He knew it was inevitable that he would have to face you after the show; sometimes, the thrill of performing made him cocky. He hoped you’d still like him when you discovered he was reserved when he wasn’t in front of a crowd. Yet, none of his insecurities deterred him from wanting you. Because when you looked at him like that, he needed nothing more. 

After the song finished, Eren winked at you, and you desperately needed to get out of the crowd, go outside, and fill your lungs with cool, fresh air that would free you from the irrational thoughts in your head. You didn’t know the guy, but still, you wanted him more than anything. 

Sasha’s voice brought you back to earth.

“Thank you for coming out tonight, everyone! I hope you had a good night and liked our music enough to return.” She laughed. It was obvious everyone in the room had fallen in love with her personality throughout the night. Sasha carried herself with such self-assurance it was difficult to find why you wouldn’t like her.

The burning on your cheek was the only thing to pull your eyes away from her grand smile. Your eyes flickered to Eren, who stood off to the side with his guitar. His hair was now tied back in a half-up style, and you swore your knees almost buckled.

As everyone filtered out, you remained in your spot. Sasha came bounding over and jumped down to stand with you.

“Did you have a good time?” You could see she was nervous to ask.

“Of course I did! And you played my favourite song,” You replied, grabbing her hand in reassurance. Sasha smiled sheepishly. 

“Well, I didn’t play it. Someone else did.” 

“Well, someone told the other someone to play it, so.” 

Sasha wiggled her eyebrows, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I saw how he was looking at you. I knew he would like you; who wouldn’t?” 

You rolled your eyes, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“But, you’re still off-limits. That wouldn't be fair until he gets over his ex,” Sasha rambled before she stopped and straightened up. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

You looked at her hesitantly, unsure why she would be saying that. “What?” 

“Bye, Y/n. Hey, Ren." Then she pointed him behind you. "Don't fuck this up."  You assumed he made a face at her from behind you because she laughed and walked backstage.

You’d never felt your stomach drop and your heart rate speed up in such synchrony. He was the devil in Converse and a black tee. 

“Y/n.” Your name on his lips was something you could get used to. 

“Eren.” You said, turning to face him. 

“So you do know me.” He was taller than you. A lot taller than you assumed, and it made your legs weak. “I was under the impression that you only knew Jean.” 

You shrugged. “Sasha mentioned you a few times, so I had to come and check out these band guys she was hanging around.” 

“Final verdict?” Eren’s mouth was pulled into a smile at the corners, his arms outstretched. 

You purposefully took your time to make a decision. Taking a step back, you sized him up. He stood still, bringing his arms to cross over his chest as you eyed his tied-back hair. You rubbed your chin in false thought and then nodded.

Feeling bold, you looked him in the eyes. “Yeah, you’re cute. And talented. So, I guessed you’re alright.” 

Eren’s cheeks were dusted with pink as he laughed. You smiled proudly, pleased you got the reaction you’d wanted from him. 

He then moved closer to you and leaned down so his eyes aligned with yours. “Well, I find you alright too. How’d you feel if I asked you to hang out in about…” He twisted his mouth in thought, his eyes flickering down to your lips. “Half an hour?” 

You bit the inside of your lip. “That would depend on what we would be doing.” 

Eren stood to his full height with an unconcerned expression as he uncrossed his arms and opened himself to you. “Whatever you want. My treat.” 

You tilted your head, studying him. “Tempting.” His lopsided smirk and tired green eyes were too easy to fall for.

“But, yes. I would like that," You said, giving up on the teasing.

His lips slipped into an easy grin, and he nodded, throwing this thumb over his shoulder. “Sweet. I’ll be back here in half an hour to take you on our date.” He winked.

You shook your head, laughing as he stepped up onto the stage. “Not a date!” 

Eren didn’t turn back to face you as he replied. “We’ll see!” 

Were you in too deep too quick?

songs mentioned: - tonight you are mine - the technicolors - monodrama - benches

[ishouldgetatumbler]

<< < ao3 > >>

Danny made sure he was first into the room. He'd had to cut off Damian in the hall to do it, but he immidiately laid on the bottom bunk and turned away from the room. He was still dressed, even his shoes were on. The only thing the uniforms did not include was fresh shoes. Danny's were caked in dried mud, they'd originally been white but stains and sterilizations left them a sort of beige. The laces were untied and almost entirely eaten off between the jaws of his shoe and the concrete.

He stared at the wall. It was the same color as his shoes. He fought the urge to turn away.

"Is he asleep?" said one of the other boys, incredulous.

Danny couldn't tell them apart by their voices, but he stilled, trying to look asleep. He couldn't close his eyes or look away from the wall now. What was once repulsive was now mesmerizing, staring at it he found phantom stains, his eyes attuned to hunting the strains dried edges for scrubbing and scraping pure clean.

One of them walked to him, leaning his head into the bunk to look Danny directly in the face. This broke danny from his maudlin stupor and he swivled only his eyes to see.

It was Artemis, one eye fat and swollen from the day's beating. Danny grimaced internally at his own "injuries."

Artemis extracted his head from between Danny's face and the bunkhead.

"Yes, he is." Artemis lied.

Damien snorted. "Good."

There a was a flurry of thumping sound as bodies, arms and legs, impacted the wall next to Danny's bed.

"What are you up to?" Said Damian, his tone threatening and deep as he could manage.

Danny could tell their voices apart now, both having a strange, soft accent. Artemis pronounced his name with the slightest push around the syllables of his vowels. Aaartemiis Foowl. Damian pronounced his own name with the ghost of a Z and the threat of a hiss. zDahmian vWayne.

"Education. Same as you." Artemis.

"I am not the same as you." Damian.

"Aren't you? I heard your loving father enrolled you along side my father enrolling me." Artemis.

"It wasn't father's wish, it was grandfather's." Damian.

Who was Damian's grandad? Danny was fuzzy on celebrity family trees, and when he thought of the Waynes all he could think of was tall, dark hair men in the same age bracket. Less of a family tree and more of a squat family bush.

Stewart Wayne? Albert? Tomas? Something boring.

"Good to know. Now unhand me." Artemis.

"Tell me what you're doing here first." Damian

"Like I said, it was my father's-"

"Your father has been missing for years, but you've had his executors tied up in litigation the whole time, theres no reason you're enrolled here unless you finally stopped filing injunctions."

Damian

Silence.

"And how do you know something like that?"

Artemis.

Silence.

"Court filings are public." Damian said vaguely.

"There are millions of cases filed globally. You would have to know what you're looking for. You'd have to know that you were looking for me." Artemis said. His tone was flat, factual and accusatory.

"You are someone worth keeping an eye on." Damian said.

"What could you possibly warrant such an invasion of privacy? for my father?" Artemis asked.

"No Artemis, this is about you."

"I think you're quiet mistaken."

Danny was learning to sound out their steps too, Artemis' small formal platforms took two steps back; tak-tak. Damian's oversized combats followed him, one stomping step that rattled the pebbles trapped in the heels of his boots; thunk.

Danny shuffled, trying to make it look like an act of fitful sleep. It had the intended effect and the boys stilled, trying not to wake him.

"Keep quiet." hissed Damien, "he's still asleep."

"It wouldn't matter." Artemis replied, "He's a nobody. A ghost."

Damien scoffed, and there was a rustling of cloth as he let go.

"Your nobody puked everywhere his first class. Everybody knows his face now." Damian said. "if he speaks up..."

"Exactly, he puked at the first mention of blood. He's in over his head, terrified. Leave him be." Artemis replied.

"Whatever." there was a creak on the bed above him as Damian flipped himself up to the bunk above his.

Artemis clicked his tongue and walked to the set of beds on the opposite end of the room, laying down down in the small bunk opposite Danny and Damien, before he opened a small black-bound book and flipped through it, tapping the reading light built into the wall on.

Danny waited there for a long time, it felt like hours staring at the back of his eyelids and listening for any sound from the other two boys. He waited in vain, listening to silence cut by the sound of Artemis turning a page.

Eventually, he braved up, shuffling around in his bed to look Artemis. The boy was reading, his one fat purple eye facing towards Danny while the other one combed over the book. Internally, Danny celebrated, before turning his hand intangible and shoving it through is sternum.

The school's security was next generation, detectors and scanners observed and scanned every pupil on their way to and from every class, meaning harboring materials was essentially impossible. Unless you were Danny. He rooted through his internal organs, groping along the outside of his lungs before finding what he was looking, tucked safely behind his gallbladder.

He withdrew a small rectangular device. It's atenne and mini-sattalite dish were warped and dented from Danny's impact with the Gym teacher and then his impact with the floor. He grimaced, then tried to turn the device on.

Slightly damp, the screen flickered to life and displayed the Fentonworks signature F, before starting to load. Danny glanced to Artemis.

He licked his index finger, then strummed the book, flipping it to the next page. Danny's gamble has paid off: he couldn't see out of his swollen eye.

Danny looked back to the screen as it booted. Now that the screen was on, Danny could see it was cracked. After booting, the screen was completely obscured as error after error popped up.

ERROR: OUTSIDE OF FENTONWORKS NETWORK RADIUS

ERROR: MOISTURE DETECTED IN CHARGING PORT

ERROR: SIGNAL WEAK OR MISSING

ERROR: LOW BATTERY

ERROR: FENTONWORKS GHOSTOMATIC DISCONNECT

Danny axed the notification, then scrolled through to contacts. Next to each was a message of "Out of Range!" except one: Tucker. If Danny could take back all the mockery he'd given to Tucker for his tinkering, he would.

Danny glanced back to where Artemis has been reading. He saw the breast of Artemis' seemingly tailored uniform two inches from his face. He craned his head up to look into Artemis' eyes.

Danny swallowed.

"Is Damian asleep?" he whispered after a moment.

Artemis glanced above the frame of his reading glasses to the bunk of above Danny's. Then he nodded

Danny squinted at the boy, then said "Hey Damian, wake up."

"I am awake." Damian said.

Artemis scoffed.

"I have a phone. Don't ask where I hid it. If you have family with impossibly good cell service, you can talk."

Damian's head popped from the edge of the bunk above, hanging in the air like a bat.

Artemis' one good eye flashed, in realization and ambition.

"Fenton, right now I'm standing between you and the camera."

Danny glanced around Artemis, noticing a small black dome in the corner of the room where he hadn't seen one before.

"If I move, you likely be spotted. Give me the phone."

Danny offered it.

Artemis hesitated.

"Is it clean?" he ventured.

Danny gave it a a quick wipe down with his shirt, then offered it again.

Artemis winced for a moment, then took it. He dialed a 1-800 number, then waited.

The line clicked to life.

"Butler?" Artemis said, holding the phone at middle distance.

Something muffled and buffed with static to a smooth, incoherent sound replied.

Artemis clicked his tongue, then ended the call.

"We're beyond my reach. If I can only get in touch with somone, I could run a program to figure out where we are. What about your reach Wayne?" Artemis said, offering the phone to Damian.

Damian took it, then said "I'm adding a new contact."

The phone rang, on speaker still and after two rings exactly it was answered. Artemis took the phone back, and began to work on it.

"̵̧̳̽̈́H̶̨̲̅͂è̷̜̊͗ͅl̷̹̯̊͑̄l̴̮̣̖̪͠o̵̭̰͇̹̿͝,̴̟̟͍͉͌ ̵̛̤̓͒̕y̷̤͗͛̽̃o̴̢̖͗ũ̷͖̳'̸͓̻̮͚͊̇v̸͉̜̦̂e̷̱̠̮̮͂ ̶͉͝ͅr̴͚̳̮̱͂͂e̴̖͍̞͔͠a̸̗͕͂̌̾̓ç̵̮̌h̵͍͖͑̂̌͝e̵͉̻̺͊ḋ̷̯͓͗͜͜ ̷̫̦͖̏ͅt̸̝̅́̀͘ͅh̴̨̻̣̘̄͌̎́ę̵̧͍̯̓ ̴̼͈̦͋̋̕͜W̷̰͔̹̋̓͋a̸̜͕̯͌͘y̷̨̨̗͗ņ̴͉̞́ͅe̶̠͌͒ ̸̢̼̍M̸͉̜̳̀͑͘ä̸̼̦̣́͑̚͠n̵͇͓͐̓͊̿o̸̹̯͙̓r̸̲̝͈̆,̵͖̱͕͐͝͝ ̴͎̉̑͗h̶̛̖̀̓̊o̵̹̝͓̊w̵̖̎̽ ̷̪̠͔̿̕m̷̠̞̹͓͐̌͝a̵͇͋̈́̎͛y̷͔̻̔ͅ ̶̻́̔ͅI̵̟̱̿ ̵̙͆ĥ̸̡̼ê̵̡̛̯̻̗͘͠l̶̘̐͘͘ͅp̷̭̀͝ ̴̜͍͓̇͐̈̀y̵̢͕͛̓́̐o̷̢̦͙̼̿̈́ů̸̡̀͘ ̶̹͗ţ̶͇̜̿͝ḣ̸͎͚̰͍͗̒i̸̤̜̞͊̇̽s̶̮̼̈͒ ̸̞̯̭̾̚e̶̥͎̜͂̈v̴̞̬̌è̸̡̮͉͓͆n̸̖͍͈̟̐í̶̦̜n̵̰̼̄ĝ̸̝̞̿̔͜?̶͚͎̲̋̋ said a voice caked in static and dusted with an English accent

"Pennyworth! Tell father I have located the criminal child and will be returning home with him shortly." Damian said confidently.

"̸̞̲̆̐͠A̵̻̍͊̓h̵̪̲̰̥̑͊͒͠ ̵̛͙͒͂͝m̶̯͖͇̄̈́a̸͍̿̍̽s̴̯̱̺̀̓̽t̴͍̆̀̔̔ẽ̷̢̘͓͐͛̕r̷̖̤͇͗͝ ̵̛̝̈̈́D̶̢͔͛́̑͌å̸̯͖̥̀͜m̸̮̤̼͌͆i̸̩̖͍̕a̸͍̖̒̃n̶͙̮̞͙̂͆̚,̷̚��͚͖ ̸̣̜̄̈h̸͔̩̯̞̊̊͆͠o̴͇̻̰͋̃̀̈́w̶̜̜͑͊ ̸̡͔̺̠̀̈́g̷̥̩̾̈́ỏ̶͕̐ò̸̹̯̿͒͝d̷̨̨̞̓͜ ̸͖̺̈̀̌͜õ̸̮f̷̒́̽͝ͅ ̶̨̹̳̝̈́y̴͛ͅõ̵͇̹̱͊ü̵̢͓̖̼̊̂͝ ̶͎̩͍̀͜t̶̩̮͑̊͒o̵̼̖͐͒ͅ ̶̠̓c̷̥̭̻̏̊̅h̶͙͔̮̫̍͌̕e̵̢̥͍̋̈́c̶̰̰̈́̐̊k̴̢͓̞̹̇ ̴̬̾̓í̶̖́̈n̵͍̱̆̈́͆͠ͅ,̴͚̣͋͛̀̕ ̸͔͍̬͚̅͝w̴̬̃͆̀o̴͉͚̠͇̓͂͊ǔ̶̻̽̚l̵̳̾͑d̵͙̤̐ ̸̠̑̅̚y̶̭̽̉o̵̺̗̖͓͋u̵͕͒̀̃͑ ̷̹͕͓͙̈̉̊͠b̷̨̮̏̕͜ȩ̵̛͎͇̫́͌̆ ̵̬̱̤̚ͅş̷͍̕ǒ̴̻͍ ̴̳̰̐k̴̻͒̋͆i̷͓̱͉̾̎ṉ̵̱̤͕̉d̶͎̙͗ ̶̫̟͔͎̌̈́͛͌a̶̲̰̥̐s̷̡̈́͊͋̈́ ̵͕̜̝̝͗͊͌͝t̴̪̺͙͛͒̿ȯ̴̇͘͜ ̸͈̥̃t̷̛̰̼̻̤͂̉̌e̴͓͑͊̓̎l̶̛̥͔̻̀̂̾l̶̗̱̍̂̾͘ ̶̣̘̟̍̏̚ṃ̴̘̮̭̓̿̃ë̸̦͚́̾͆̚ ̶̲͗̓́w̷̡̹̖̋ḧ̵̥́́̚͝e̶̖̤̹̗͛̈́̀̕r̶͓̯̭͊̍̒͒e̴͕̻͚͓͆ ̸̠̰̥̔̈́̕y̷̘͘͠o̷̥̝̣̎̔͝͝û̶̢̧̗̱̀͑͠ ̸̗̗̙͘a̷͕̟͐̚ṟ̶̛̹̞̂͛ě̸͈̺͓̐̑?̶͙̝̆"̶̙̓͂́̚

"No Alfred, I can't tell you where we are."

"Yeah, we have no idea." Danny offered helpfully.

Damian glared at him.

"We are a few miles underground, somewhere on the Eurasian continent, close to the equator. Here, let me try to get a better connection-"

Artemis reached to grab the satellite disk and Damian yelped "no!" as he yanked the phone away, snapping the tiny antenna. The call died.

[jojomiwbvb6]

Hedonist - Part 1

Author's Note: Part 1 in maybe a 3 part series? Original writing, some fluffiness.

Warnings: references to smut, marijuana usage

“Hello everybody,” our monotone college professor groans, setting his coffee thermos down on the desk and his bag falling from his shoulder, haphazardly to the floor. He turns to the class with a bored face. “I trust you all have read your fundamentals on the subject we will be going over today?”

Lots of droned voices echoed in the room, spacious but only full of 20 or less students in our 10 am class, full of ‘yes’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’. 

“Alright, good. Because today you’ll be needing to know your P’s and Q’s for this subject,” he drawled. “We will be discussing how to compress and noise gate in your mixes using Logic Pro.”

Whoops and tones of unsureness echoed through the room.

“As an announcement before we begin, I would like to announce that we–” the Professor was cut off by a loud thud and a bang as the door swung open and smacked the concrete wall next to it. In the doorway you stood, as if in some scene of a soap family comedy, awkwardly perched and cringing at yourself as everyone stared at you.

Other students cringed, feeling second-hand embarrassment for you; while others just snickered and whispered to their friends that you were a dumbass. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you managed to say under your breath as you walked to a random seat in the third isle. You felt eyes on you from all directions as the class went silent, waiting for you to finally sit down so the class can begin. 

“And which one are you?” The professor asks, glaring at you, but trying to hide it. 

“Um, Y/N,” you croak. You hear a snicker or two from nearby, but you didn’t care enough to bother with them. 

“Okay…” He stares at a sheet of paper, dragging his pen back and forth as he read. “Ah. There you are. Y/N. Okay, people, attendance is all straight now. As I was saying, there are a few new faces among us this period.”

You looked around, noticing your previous classmates from classes before and new ones that you haven’t seen. It all depended on student’s schedules and the degree they were taking. As you looked, you noticed a couple new girls. One with tattoos and one who looked like she could be someone’s middle aged mother. There was a boy fresh out of high school, built like a twig. In the back corner of the room, two rows from you, your eyes landed on a man with long, brown, luscious hair, and tattoos of beautiful work that could go on for miles. He was looking down at his journal. When he looked up, he tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear and your breath caught hard in your throat when he looked forward, not noticing you. He was so…

“Y/N?” The teacher spoke to you, snapping you out of your gaze. 

“I’m sorry, what?” You squeaked, embarrassed that you had been gawking at the new kid, and you hoped that you weren’t staring that hard and that nobody noticed.

A tone of disapproval twinged in the professor’s voice.

“Y/N. I expect full attention spans this month,” He eyeballed you in your desk with a raised eyebrow. “And that goes for everyone. Now, Y/N, the question was…”

You answered the question correctly, and as time went on, you and the class took notes. Once finished with the lecture and notes, you were all dismissed for a break.

You wandered out to the hallway and decided to get a Coke from the vending machine. You thought about that mysterious, beautiful man sitting so close to you in class. Who was he? Why was he so fine? 

Grabbing your drink from the bottom of the machine, your mind is blank as you walk back to the classroom. Your professor is working on his laptop at his desk, not minding you at all when you walk past back towards your seat. You look up, butterflies awakening in your stomach as you try to sneak a peek at that new guy to see if he’s in his seat. He isn’t, and you slightly slunk to your desk in disappointment and sat down, opening your coke and sipping it. 

Break is almost up and students start to come back in. They come in groups in intervals, but after a second of silence, just one comes back in. It’s him, the new guy. He looks at his feet as he comes in, holding a tea in his hand. As he walks down his aisle, he looks up, glancing around habitually. His eyes land on you and you hold your breath without realizing it. Other students are coming back into the room and the professor sits up, getting ready to start up class again.

The new guy just blinks, but locks eyes with you for a second or two before sitting down and you look away so you don’t look too long. 

The professor clears his throat, standing from his desk. 

“Alright,” he announces, letting everyone get situated into their desks and their journals ready. “You all know what materials you need. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance, and you may begin your projects whenever you’re ready.”

You looked over at the new kid again, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you. His eyes fluttered to the front of the room quickly. Your breath shuddered. Wow, he is… nice looking.

The professor finished his instructions, letting us sit in our respective seats and work. 

You felt your face burn as if you were being watched. You fought back a little blush, knowing that you were being looked at just as you had been looking. You smirked to yourself in your desk at the thought.

You heard rustling, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stand and walk to the professor. You couldn’t understand what was being said, but you could tell he had a tenor voice. It was like hearing the devil speak, tempting you to eat his fruit from the tree. You saw him nod as if his question was answered to his satisfaction.

He walked back towards the desk, and you reverted your eyes back to your MacBook to avoid any evidence that you were watching. You then guilitly stole a glance up at him as he sat back down, but he already caught you. He glanced deeply at you for a second as he was sitting back down. He looked away as you did.

An hour more into the class, stealing glances to find one of you already looking happened more than it should have. You smiled at him politely a few times so it didn’t look like you were a weirdo, playing some of them off as ‘accidents’. When you began catching him, he began to have a small smirk playing on his face. This livened your body like nothing else, your mind going berzerk and your stomach fluttering wildly.

You didn’t even know this man! What if he was some weirdo or a crackhead? A serial killer?! Hey, Y/N, what about rational thinking? Naw! Let’s drool!

Half an hour goes by, you taking a break from sneaking glances as you concentrated and tried not to look weird. With your headphones in concentrating on the sounds you were correcting for the assignment, you didn’t hear the little “hey” and the awkward throat-clearing sound next to you.

You felt a finger tap your arm in an unsure way. Slightly startled, you turned to look at who was poking and why they were poking. Your breath hitched, embarrassingly and audibly so, when you looked into the new kid’s warm brown eyes and small smug smile playing on his face. You popped a headphone off an ear and paused your audio clip, hanging on a cliffhanger of just waiting to hear what this dude’s voice sounded like, hoping it would be anything like the face to match. 

Oh, it was. Silky smooth words rolled off his tongue, even if they were normal. You had to mentally slap yourself to really understand what he said, so you didn’t process blah blah blah while you eargasmed instead. 

“Hey, um, sorry, angel. I forgot to pack my MIDI cable before I left the house,” he referred to the board sitting next to his Mac, lifeless without its hookup. “I see you’re not currently using yours, would you be okay with me using it for the rest of class?” 

You nodded slowly. You felt like you looked like a fat cow with a gaping mouth, even if you looked totally normal. You dug in your bag and found what he requested and you handed it to him. 

He shot you a wide smile and you felt like your brains would fall all over the floor. “Thank you. You’re an angel.”

Oh my god. You turned away, closing your eyes and squeezing your thighs together. You regained your focus and resumed your assignment. 

Another 10 minute break was announced, but you wanted to get your assignment done and over with so you didn’t have to worry about anything when class was dismissed. You didn’t look at the new kid.

A note slid onto the corner of your desk, and when you looked up, you noticed the new kid had walked past down your aisle instead of his. You noticed that as he walked out the door, he caught your glance with a little smile playing on his mouth. 

Your heart now pounded in your chest. Do I open this? Should I?

You snatched it and breathed shallowly, swallowing hard. You slowly unfolded it, worried about what it was going to say. 

In neat handwriting, it said “Noah Sebastian / 223-6636 / text me if you need anything”.

On god, you about passed out. Your mind began to race. You told yourself to calm down–maybe this was just if you needed homework help; nothing too crazy! Right? Right. 

The daring part of you tore open your notebook before he got back. You tore off a section, and scribbled “(Y/N) / (Y/P/N) / I might :)” Folding it, your heart pounded out of your ribcage when you stood, walked to his desk, and tucked it under his laptop just enough for him to see and returned to your desk casually.

At this rate, you thought you might need to get off when you got home.

The new kid–Noah–returned to his seat to work, not looking at you but you at him for a moment. He had a blank look on his face, revealing no sign that he left a note. You watched carefully to see if he had noticed the note, and he did. You looked away quickly, afraid and a little embarrassed by your immediate play. 

He unfolded the paper slowly, smirk building into his cheek lines. You bit your lip, looking again. You watched as he saved his number into his phone quickly. He didn’t text you, but looked up to sneak a glance at you– but you were looking too long.

He narrowed his eyes, but you could tell he wasn’t mad. Noah’s eyes sparkled when he looked you up and down, letting you drink in the fact that he was eyeballing you and you were letting him. The smirk he already had became very apparent now and he let you see it. There was no douchebag in that smirk like every other frat boy who ever tried to speak to you.

“Okay, people. Class is over. Go home, enjoy your life. I’ll see you this Friday. Now go away so I can teach more brats before I go home.” Your teacher chided through tired eyes.

You and Noah stole one more short glance before packing up your things and leaving the room. You walked out, not looking again or even speaking to him out of shyness.

When you exited the building, you didn’t see Noah perched against the brick wall as he smoked a joint secretively. Or tried to, if you didn’t smell it first. “Hey, Y/N,” he said casually.

You looked around, not recognizing who or where the voice was. You notice Noah, sunglasses perched on his nose and he smiled at you. Ugh, wow.

He offered you a hit off the joint and you accepted. He watched you take a hit and smiled proudly. “And she likes to smoke,” he chided to himself. You offered him a smile at his words, liking his acknowledgement. You inhaled deep, exhaling to the side. “Taking it like a champ, too,” he nodded as he watched, another smirk playing on his face.

His words made her stomach hot. “You should see when I really smoke,” she said, making light conversation, not trying to show how he just teased her during their first time talking.

“Oh yeah?” he dared. “How much do you smoke? Really, like don’t pussy out on me. Give me all your details. I bet you can’t dab.”

“Bitch,” you chided at him playfully. “I can dab. I dabbed so hard I didn’t breathe for almost a minute.”

“Fuckin’ riot,” he said. “We gotta smoke.”

“Aren’t we?”

They giggled together.

“Naw, angel. This is just a quickie.”

Fucking hell, he did it again.

“So…” you began, trying to pretend that you were completely fine and not squirming in your pants. “When did you start here? Why haven’t I seen you?”

“Oh, I do online courses sometimes. Decided taking this class in person would be better. I’m on the road a lot.”

“‘On the road’? What do you mean?” You asked curiously.

“I’m in a band called Bad Omens,” he says to me. “I tour. I sing. Pretty cool shit, if I say so myself.”

“That’s amazing, I’m hoping to do some work with bands myself.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence between you both as he took a hit. Breathing out the smoke, he nodded and said quietly, “Awesome…” as if he were ticking off a checklist.

When the joint burned down to the filter and you both made a little less small talk, you said your goodbyes for the day and you hoped you would see him on Friday’s class.

[babiebom]

Hiiii. I hope ur ok with my just constantly being like *ahem* spencer reid 👉🏻👈🏻🥹🥹. I loved how you wrote him in the last request! I feel like a lot of the time, people write him very ooc - just bc he can be hard to get written the right way, but like that's my boy, look at him spitting random facts for HOURS 🥰🥰?? Like yes, pls info dump on me while I stare at u lovingly, Spence 💞.

I recently came to terms with being ftm, but it's almost impossible to find any male! reader x Spencer Reid content. Which can be very dysphoric 😵‍💫. Which sucks! Bc holy hell, there are some fuckinnn amazing writers out there writing fanfics.

So now, I have come to you, an amazing writer out here writing fanfics, to beg ask if ud be down to write any kind of oneshot with Spencer Reid dating a male reader! It honestly doesn't have to be anything specific - romantic, angsty, enemies to lovers, slow burn, whatever peaks ur interest atm!

I would just love, love to have that content with Spence & a male reader if you're down for the task! Thank you so so muchh 💓. Hope ur having a wonderful morning / afternoon / evening !

A/N:im sorry this took so long!! I’ve been busy working (blegh) and I wanted to write something sweet for you!! I’m happy you’ve come to terms with being ftm!! As a cis identifying person myself I can’t say that I know how it feels, but I am VERY happy that you’re more comfortable with your identity!! Also never worry about being too “crazy” over Spencer I’ve been obsessed with him since I was about 5 or 6 (yes it’s been a long time)!! I’ll try more to write in a more gender neutral way when writing anything reader insert related that way you can enjoy my writing without feeling left out or anything!! Always let me know if there are things I can do better <3

Tw: maybe some cursing but overall should be wholesome

Wc: 0.54k

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer Reid often came home dejected after a case gone wrong, it was often that he came home tired but happy after a successful case. It wasn’t often, however, that he came home excited for a break; but then again he hadn’t had a boyfriend to come home to on previous breaks. Now, as you watch him walk through the front door of your shared apartment, you can’t help but grin at the absolutely goofy look on his face.

“Emily gave us all 4 weeks off to rest after our latest case, so that means I get four WHOLE weeks of you to myself! Isn’t that great?” He lets out a giggle after he finishes speaking, putting his bag down on the kitchen counter. You didn’t even have to ask him why he was so giddy, he answered unprompted.

“It is great!” You try to match his energy, only seeing him this excited for the first time since you’ve met. He brings you into his embrace, hugging you so tightly that you think you might die if he squeezed you any tighter. “So what are your plans now that you’re a free man for four whole weeks?”

“Well we could go to the park and play chess, or stay here and play chess but I think the sunlight would be good for both of us. Or we could go to the movies, or take a class together, or…”

“Your plans are to just have dates with me every single day?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow.

He nods as if the answer is the most obvious, concrete fact in the universe. He looks at you, not as if you’re dumb, but as if to say ‘duh what else would I be planning to do?’.

The two of you move to sit on the couch, enveloped in each other as he talks about the many, many dates you’re going to go on now that he’s free from his time constricting job. “What if I don’t wanna do those things?” You ask playfully. He shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter what we do, as long as I get to do it with you”.

“Oh?” You look at him as if he said something scandalous, “I didn’t know you had that big of a crush on me.”

He shoves you gently, rolling his eyes at your attempt to joke off his sweet words.

“You’re joking but studies have found that couples who have regular date nights more often result in higher relationship satisfaction, better communication, and a stronger emotional connection. Us going on dates during these four weeks will be better for us in the long run.”

You don’t reply, or interrupt. It’s always amusing to listen to him ramble on and on about facts that he finds interesting or applicable to the conversation. And all it does is make you fall more in love with him, seeing how serious he is about your relationship working out in the future. He says that he loves you often, but it’s things like this; seeing and listening to how much he genuinely cares about your relationship.

Being the boyfriend of a pretty boy genius has its perks, and how much he cares about you compared to others is definitely one of them.

[lyraoftheevergreens]

In The Morning

Chapter 5

Professor!Snape x Female Student Reader

Summary: What happens when Snape falls in love with a 7th year student at hogwarts just 8 years after the death of his first love. What will happen when she discovers the darkest sides of him and brings up trauma from her own past. Will she stay with him despite what she learns? Reader is of age.

Warnings: she/her pronouns. Mentions of eating, torture and murder

Age 13+

Word count: 1,600

Tag list: Open 🖤

Authors note: thank you to those of you who have waited years for this chapter, and welcome to those of you who are new.

For the sake of the story line Sinistra is not the Astronomy professor.

It was now the end of spring break and y/n found her self dreading the start of class after her blissful week in Severus is arms. There was no other place she ever wanted to be, she could have died and she would have been content as long as her death was in his arms. One week of just him, never having to leave his arms. She learned everything about him, his child hood. As she laid in his arms he caressed her gently and told her stories of his child hood. His talented mother and muggle father. She told him of her childhood. How it was growing up in manor. The disappearance of her sister Eloise. He held her every night into the day. The night terrors continued through the break, they were tolerable in Severus is arms. She woke up one night screaming and crying.

“I remember when Eloise left, she left a note on my bed. Dear sister, I love you but I must go, I hope you can find in your heart to forgive me, love Eloise.”

“I’m so sorry my dear.”

“That’s the issue though Sev, I don’t think she left. They did something to her. She has to be kept on the grounds someplace. She would have never left such a generic note. Love Eloise. Thats just not like her.”

“Where would they keep her.”

“The grounds are so large, deep underground. All the underground passages are connected, so large.”

“I believe I remember seeing them. How far do they go?”

“Far, all the way to grounds keeper’s shack. It’s the length of the house and then some. It’s all concrete, she would freeze to death down there.”

“Are you sure she could have just escaped.”

“Id love to believe that, but I know it in my heart, shes not safe. And it doesn’t help that I’m such a coward. I can’t go back Severus, I’ll be forced to marry, or worse.”

“You’re not a coward, you endured so much at that house.”

That was over now, it was a new week, back to courses, first class of the morning, potions. She put on her necklace from Severus and didn’t tuck it under her shirt she wore it out and proud. The man who loves her gave this to her and she loves him to. While they haven’t said it out loud to each other she knows deep inside that he loves her. As she entered the potions room and helped gather supplies for that mornings lesson as she always did Severus appeared behind her. He leaned down, lips to her ear,” are you sure you should be wearing that for everyone to see.”

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“You’re not worried about what people will say, question. Where you got it from.”

“Family heirloom.”

“Hmm.” The vibrations of his ‘hmm’ on her neck tickled, his lips kissed and nipped. His tongue soothed. She was ready for him to take her right then and there and that room but nonetheless, he adjusted her shirt for her and they went into the potions class room, she took her seat and others began to enter, Edith took her seat next to. “Nice hickey you have going on.”

“What?” Y/n questioned.

“Your hickey, it’s like you had a leach on your neck.”

“Oh my bad.”

“So who is the lucky lad you shagged over break.”

“Oh nobody. Just a strange reaction to something.”

“Oh alright, I suppose. Touch yourself to Snape plenty?”

“Ms. Y/l/n, Ms.Carrington am I interrupting something important.?” He said

“No, sorry professor.” Y/n replied quickly

“Professors pet.” Edith mumbled.

Class went on as usual. Y/n stayed behind and waited for the first years to arrive in class. She sat and watched as Severus made two first years leave the class crying.

“You’re so harsh on them.”

“I don’t see how, I shouldn’t have stuffer do to there idiocracy. You were so bright as a first year.”

“Yes because my parents wanted to make sure I wasn’t a reflection of their failures the way they saw Eloise.”

“I suppose so.”

She sat in his lap at his desk and ran her fingers through his hair, she loved his long black hair so much.

“I have something to tell you,”Severus began, “we won’t be able to meet in my quarters before dinner. I have things to discuss with Dumbledore.”

“Oh okay, I understand.” She responded, her hand now gently on his chest.

“I promise I rather be with you than that old fool.” She gently kissed his lips and said, “I know, I trust you.”

She carried on her day, lunch with Severus, herbology, defense against the dark arts, she studied for her OWLS with Edith and a few other girls in her sleeping quarters and walked with them to the great hall for dinner. She couldn’t take her eyes off Severus, scowling at Dumbledore the whole meal. Something’s happened and she knows it. She doesn’t even finish her meal and she’s off to Severus is living quarters, Edith is yelling for her and she doesn’t flinch, simply carries on. Once she enters it’s not long that Severus arrives as well.

“Tell me the truth Severus, what happened in your meeting with headmaster. I’m not an idiot, you were sat there scowling at him and not touching your meal.”

“I told him.”

“You told him what.”

“That I love you.”

“That’s lovely, you told him before you’ve told me.”

“Y/n-“

“Why would you do such a thing. You could have gotten your self fired. or worse sent to azkaban.”

“you have nothing to worry about, no such thing will happen, there are no laws in place about teachers and students and besides your of age.”

“I dont understand though Severus, why.”

“I wanted to learn more about your father. I never learned much of him even though I was in his home nearly once a week for meetings. Other than the fact that he has two daughters and a wife.”

“We have two house elves. My mother and father are both the last living relatives of their respective bloodlines. Besides Eloise, Lucy and I. So what else did you learn by visiting the headmaster.”

“I learned that Eloise is not your full sister. That your father killed his first wife.”

“I know. That’s why he has no problem marrying me off to someone who killed his own wife as well. My father is 15 years older than my mother. She was 16 when her father arranged for her marriage. Frankly they are match made in hell. They’re both just as cold and thats why my mother never cared to protect Eloise from my father. She always used to say that it was Eloise is mums fault that she got her self killed.”

“I swore to my self the first day you cried in my arms I would protect you till the day I die.”

“Severus, you simply can’t, believe me, i wish it was that simple.”

“Move in with me, if you’re with me at all times I can at least try.”

“Oh Severus, of course I will, but hold on we’re not finished discussing what happened between you and Dumbledore.”

“I had to find some way to protect you, after the school year, after the summer. I cant leave you alone at home unprotected. So I went to Dumbledore. He remembers your father from when he attended Hogwarts. Your father has begun training Lucy.”

“No, he couldn’t be, she’s only 9.”

“Now that you’re not returning home he needs to prepare her for the return of the dark lord.”

“Severus I have to do something, I have to protect her.”

“We will figure something out, together. For now you will stay here at Hogwarts where you are safe.”

“Why else did you tell Dumbledore about us?”

“He’s prepared to offer you a job, you will no longer be my assistant, the astronomy professor wishes to retire, you will take over for her in the next school year, but you must study under her from now on in preparation for the fall.”

“Severus, thank you.”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I love you too.” But she didn’t know how much Severus truly loved her, he would die for her if thats what it took to protect her. For now he knew she could go no where near y/l/n manor, who knows what torture they would inflict upon her.

~Severus’ meeting with Dumbledore ~

“Albus.” Severus began, as he entered Dumbledore office.

“How can I help you severus?”

“It’s Y/f/n.”

“Ah yes, her family is sending for her to be retrieved directly from the school the last day of term.”

“We need to protect her.”

“Severus.”

“Albus, they will kill her. I can’t loose her the way I lost Lilly.”

“Severus I warned you to be careful.”

“They will kill her, she doesn’t know it yet but they’ve killed her older sister Eloise.”

“I know, it’s a shame what happened to that poor girl. Does y/n know?”

“No she does not, and no one shall tell her. She has night terrors from what she witnessed in that house.”

“Severus.”

“Please, keep her safe.”

“It appears you are capable of doing that on your own.”

“She’s coming back with me to Hogwarts in the next school year then.”

“She’ll no longer be a student Severus. She can’t return.”

“Offer her a position here.”

“I suppose i could offer her the astronomy position, but she would need to study under professor Alveston and not you Severus.”

“That’s fine, I’ll discuss it with her. I’m certain she will accept.”

“In that case she begins in the morning, no time to waste I suppose.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Tag list:

@layla2-49

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (5)

Summary: Rodrick lives up to his side of the deal, or should I say, community service.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1K

A/N: Okay, so, this wasn't all that was planned for this chapter. Buttt I felt really rushed and hadn't updated this fic in a little over a month. I'll edit this with the rest of the chapter when I get to it, but for now, it's being put to rest indefinitely. Thank you for the support!

-

The next day, your best friend arrived in English early, much to your surprise. Daniel tossed a notebook onto your desk, slouching in his seat as if he were a drunk, divorced father. You took it into your hand, reading the messily written label, before looking up at the sorrowful boy in front of you. The pages were filled to the brim with outlines, sketches, and ideas; some pictures were lightly colored in.

“I see you’ve been busy,” you quipped.

Daniel hissed, the bags under his eyes more prominent, “This prompt is crap! I’ve been up all night trying to figure out how to do this.”

“You’re thinking too hard about it, Dan.” You pass it back to him, fingers tapping the wooden desk.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he ranted, “you just have drums!”

“I’d rather have the guitar.”

He rubbed his temples, “Not my point. Can’t you come with me tonight to take pictures?”

“In the forest? Dude, that’s every horror movie plot,” you scoffed, watching other students file in.

They sat in their seats or hopped on desks, with one girl rudely scooting on Daniel’s, “I know, that’s why I want you to come with me. I need photos for the presentation board!”

“I dunno if I can, I’m supposed to be going to Rodrick’s house tonight.”

“Since when did you start hanging out with him?”

“Since the need for a decent grade.”

Ms. Kawiti was the last to stroll inside, setting her bag on the table in the front of the classroom. She cleared her throat, and caused all chatter to cease, including your conversation with Daniel. Your best friend grumbled, turning back around, attempting to dodge the long hair intruding in his personal space. The girl herself reluctantly returned to her own place, sharing a few final giggles with her group. You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed and feet perched underneath your desk on a metal bar. There were other boys around the class doing the same, and you adjusted yourself to make the position more comfortable. Why did time have to go so slow when fun is on the other side? 

On just another thing you were better than Rodrick at, you did not break any personal property when parking outside his house. Your shoes clacked against the concrete driveway, purple laces swinging, only stopping to knock on the door. The person who answered was not Rodrick, no, but a much older woman with a professional-looking outfit and brown hair to match. She looked so strikingly different from the drummer you knew that you almost backed away, apologizing for coming to the wrong house. Almost. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, is this the Heffley family’s house?”

She seemed taken aback, almost wary as she took in your appearance, “Yes, are you one of Rodrick’s… bandmates?”

“Uh, no, I’m Heather’s brother. He invited me over for research,” you shrugged.

“Rodrick and research?” Mrs. Heffley cocked an eyebrow up, slightly stepping back to allow you inside.

You waved your hands, and said, “I know, absolutely unbelievable! However, I can assure you that I’m telling the truth– he brought home some books.”

“And I read it, duh,” a voice called from above.

Rodrick, the devil, hung his head over the overhead railing. He cocked his head at you, sneering. Mrs. Heffley shook her head, sighed, and walked into a separate room beside you; there wasn’t any attention on her anymore. Rodrick motioned for you to come up the stairs, before disappearing again.

His voice echoed, “C’mon, my room’s the coolest here!”

For a split second, you hesitated. You glanced back to where Mrs. Heffley had disappeared, unsure of whether it was appropriate to leave your shoes on and make a mess of the house. Just to be safe, you set them neatly beside the door, before following the other boy up the stairs.

When you finally arrived, Rodrick had already vanished once again. There were multiple doors running down the hallway, but the only hint as to the correct one was the faint sound of guitar riffs. It almost sounded like it was coming from above you, though you decided to peek into the closest unlocked door. This room wasn’t even a bedroom; it was simply a small bathroom meant for one or two people. There was a bit of a smell inside, like someone hadn't flushed the toilet. Hell, as curious as you were, you weren’t going to confirm that.

You barely could close the door before a finger tapped your shoulder, and you flinched, turning around– it was just Greg. The little boy was Rodrick’s unlucky younger brother, who was at least a head shorter than you. He seemed nicer than your acquaintance, and it really made you wonder how the two of them were raised in the same household. Perhaps Rodrick was adopted? Nah. Greg was studying you with a standoffish look in his eyes, the kind kids get when they meet strange family friends. You weren’t surprised; your looks were far from the typical suburban rich boy.

“His room’s in the attic,” Greg said, plainly, “Last door.”

He scurried off to do his own things, possibly to bug his mother about the newest Nintendo game. There was no last door on the left, only a wall that held an uncharacteristically peaceful family photo. Rodrick was still Rodrick, just younger, with devilish messy hair and dirt under his nails. On the right, however, there was a slightly ominous wooden door. In direct contrast to the opposite wall, the door had a sign that read Rodrick Only. It was so childishly Rodrick that you couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath. 

One knock, two knock, three knock. The music coming from above grew ever so slightly quieter, and you could hear heavy footsteps coming down the attic stairs. It opened, only to an unimpressed drummer.

“Dude, aren’t you coming?” He frowned.

 You shrugged, pointing to the sign, “I’m not allowed in. It’s Rodrick only, remember?”

Said boy rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh, “You’re the exception.”

“The exception?”

“An exception,” he corrected himself.

You pushed past him, clambering up the stairs, “Whatever you say, dick.”

“Weirdo.”

Rodrick’s room was, to put it nicely, a mess. His bed was undone, random magazines poked out from under his mattress, and you honestly couldn’t tell if the jeans hanging on the railing were dirty or clean. Three, conjoined windows were the only source of natural light, and you swore you could see a spider web hanging off the sill. Posters and grimy t-shirts were plastered all over the walls and ceiling; you doubted any space was left untouched. Rodrick’s drum set sat in the corner, shining like it was brand new.

He was shuffling through a bookshelf behind you, containing almost everything but books themselves, much to your amusement. Rodrick must have seen the quirk of your lips when he managed to pull a thin, perfectly packaged music book from its depths, as his eyes narrowed when he turned to face you. 

“This is for the bare basics of drumming, it should cover all that mechanical stuff you have in your outline,” he shrugged.

“You actually read that?”

Rodrick’s gaze flicked towards you, unsure, before his chest puffed up obnoxiously, “Duh, what kinda guy do you take me for?”

…

“I’m not gonna answer that.”

“You’re just too scared to admit that I’m awesome!”

You mumbled, “You’re delusional.”

“Aha! I knew it!”

“If you know so much,” you tapped the cymbal, “give me what I’m here for.”

The 

Rodrick groaned, “You’re such a party pooper sometimes.”

“Ironic.”

He swiped the drumsticks from the seat and pointed them at you threateningly, like an annoyed teacher, “Shh.”

Rodrick used the sticks to point out each individual drum part, explaining the noise they make and how he uses them in his band. You scratched your nose while he rambled on, not feeling in the mood to tell him you knew this already. It was only when he started back on the ego talk that your attention drifted to other parts of his room, to all the little details. There was a large poster of a woman holding a dark colored guitar, her hair swept back in a 90’s hairstyle that most definitely wouldn’t be possible without layers upon layers of spray. She had eyeliner smudged across her eyelids, but they had a cleaner edge than Rodrick’s attempts; quite similar to yours. Rodrick was now doing light taps to 4-4 time, nodding his head to the rhythm, eyes closed. 

The fan in the opposite corner was making the glossed pages under his mattress flutter and loosen from where they were hidden. If you squinted your eyes, you could just barely make out a part of the photo– were those biceps? If you shuffled a bit to the right, you could pull it out enough that it would flutter out on its own, and that it did. Hell, Rodrick was too busy rocking out on the drums to hear your suspicions being confirmed.

You wouldn’t be surprised if Rodrick had a magazine full of half naked women hanging around somewhere; it was Rodrick, after all. However, one full of shirtless men? That was out of character for the self proclaimed womanizer. For a moment, you thought about telling him that you knew about his stash, but quickly dismissed it. You couldn’t imagine how embarrassing that would be for someone, even an asshole as shameless as him! Besides, who knows how insulated the walls of this house are, right? You bit your tongue, humming along to Rodrick’s music as he made a dramatic finish to the song.

“I was starting to worry I wasn’t keeping your attention there,” he chuckled to himself.

You tilted your head, “I just got lost in the beat, you know how it is.”

“That I do, dude. Was that all you needed?”

“Bingo, you were super useful.”

He grinned, “I’m always helpful! You could literally just ask Gregory his opinion on it, I taught him all about how to survive middle school.”

“The harshest environment, I’m aware.” You stood up.

“Okay,” he sensed the sarcasm in your tone, “you’re banned. Get out.”

“I’m going, I’m going, don’t get your panties in a twist!”

You ran down the stairs, hearing him cackling the whole way down. Rodrick was funny sometimes, you had to give him that. Maybe these next few weeks wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-