#Like I flew in for a night and back out the next day or something. I dont know

[kandlewick]

janitor yuu au! kalim who is finally able to travel back home for the holidays since he wasn't able to during winter break due to... circumstances quite literally out of his control. jamil is also with him and regardless of the twos still rocky relationship, they're both wiling to have some kind of truce while visiting family.

and now kalim finds himself at a loss as everything he's so used to doing for himself is now being done on his behalf. instead of the same few outfits to rotate through, now he has servants waiting at his beck and call to garb him in a brand new outfit every day, each more luxurious then the next. food is now brought to him, fresh and warm and spiced to perfection but he feels selfish now to admit he misses the way you cooked, with the slightly burned ends and the faint taste of plastic from the tupperware. he misses the familiar fabric of his now worn out cardigan. the close weaving had begun to separate and he had just started being able to fit his fingers through the yarn and it wrapped around his fingers so securely it felt like a warm hug.

he felt selfish here, laying on his fancy bed with the canopy and thick comforter, pillows galore, because despite being back in luxury, he missed the familiarity of the ramshackle dorm and the janitor and grim. he missed having choices. he missed having control.

jamil finds him sneaking out in the middle of the night and he reluctantly follows, his footsteps light as the two of them made their way to the kitchen.

everything was quiet now, the servants having been long dismissed, and kalim felt himself let out a sigh of relief. nobody was there to stop him. with an almost excited pep to his step, he made his way in to the heavily stocked pantry and began his search. he felt bad, but the food that was given to him for dinner was too rich, it made his stomach hurt, and he found that his palette wasn't as fond of fancier food now that he's had the simpler things.

"you're not going to find anything like what the janitor has stored away in ramshackle if that's what you're looking for."

the sound of jamil's voice startled kalim enough that he slammed his head against a shelf. his hands immediately flew up to cradle his skull and he let out a sharp whine. he looked up at jamil with tears in his eyes but brightened when he saw him leaving against the door frame, arms crossed with a familiar unamused expression on his face. kalim was quick to straighten himself to his full height and gave his friend(?) a nervous smile. no matter how jamil felt about him, kalim couldn't help but think of him as his closest friend in spite of everything.

"ah, uhm! i figured!" kalim let out a small laugh. his hands reached to nervously fidget at the loose yarn of his cardigan but found nothing, only the silky smooth fabric of a new shawl over his shoulders. the thinness of it left him feeling exposed. "all the food the servants made was really good but i felt it was a bit too much! ever since i've lived in ramshackle, i've gotten so use to eating—"

"you're so use to eating scraps now that you decided to raid the servant's kitchens to see if you could find something to reassure yourself that you weren't 'becoming spoiled' again?" jamil's tone was icy again, like from back when they argued, and kalim felt himself unintentionally shrinking in on himself. jamil continued, "and then, because you dont know the first thing about anything, you were going to get me to make whatever silly thing the janitor could scrounge up with left over tuna and some eggs so you could sit in the kitchen and eat it up and think to yourself 'wow im such a good person, having learned to enjoy the simpler things in life' all while going back to your room and sleeping like a little baby, safe and cuddled up in your several thousand thaumark sheets, spoiled rotten beyond belief—"

"you're right," kalim nodded, "i am spoiled."

"but i've also learned how meaningless a lot of this is." kalim's shoulders slumped, "did you know that there were servants whose entire job was to make sure my bathwater wasn't too hot or too cold? I didn't," he laughed, "i just thought the water came out perfect every time."

he remembered his first cold shower in ramshackle and how he sneezed and sneezed and sneezed. he remembered how the janitor had made him some chalky hot cocoa to help warm himself up and that it was the tastiest thing he had had all day. he remembers them wrapping him up in several ratty blankets and reassuring him that he would get use to it.

"the first cold shower is always the worst. so is the second. and so is the third. but eventually it will be ok."

"is it ok for you?"

the janitor hadn't said anything then, only offered him a small smile and a shrug before grim stole their attention away from him.

kalim blinked. he was back in the present.

"i spent my whole life having someone do everything for me and i thought that it was normal. that it was ok because i didn't know how to do anything properly and i didn't! but nobody would let me try. nobody let me fail. the only person who ever trusted me with my own choices was them."

"if i even so much as picked up a bread knife, you or some other servant would pluck it from my hands. saying things like, 'oh thats too dangerous for you' or 'don't worry kalim i've got it handled.' and i've suffered because of it!" he looked down at his hands and finally felt a sense of comfort in the cheap, colorful band aids that were wrapped around his fingers. burn marks, cuts, bruises, all things he never got to experience here in the palace or even in his own dorm.

his choices, his own choices.

"i am spoiled, jamil, you're right, but unlike you, i want to change. im tired of having everyone do everything for me. i want to cook my meals and make my own bed. i want to study hard and succeed where i let myself fail because i knew i had you to count on. i want to be able to rely on myself, jamil so if you'll excuse me im going to make a tuna and butter sandwich on stale bread."

[incorrigible-bastard]

@aroace-get-out-of-my-fac almost immediately after posting the last one I broke out in a cold sweat and had to write this?

The day had passed in the blink of an eye. Wincing as Stan felt the pressure of their eyes on him, watching to see his next moves. He knew that after the night before, they were expecting something from him. A heartfelt promise to carry her torch with him through the rest of the games, perhaps. Or maybe just a break from the regular jokes and light teasing he’d fallen into.

It was all too peaceful, too quiet. Monotonous. Stan could almost hear the rolling thunder that was brewing overhead as they puzzled over their next moves. As he’d fished and counted his stock, messing with finished nets. Despite it all, he couldn’t find it in himself to play the part, settling in as the sun set once more.

That should have been his first clue, there was no such thing as a quiet day in the arena.

Unbeknownst to Stan, the game-masters scrambled to rewrite the public’s perceptions of Darlene’s death. They needed something to draw their gaze, take power away from the skeptical whispers dominating the capital. They needed action.

Stan woke to the lap of water brushing against his face, shooting up from his sleep as the water inched closer. Fuck. He should have known, he’d gotten too comfortable, throwing himself into action as he quickly assembled his meagre supplies, half paddling out of the cave's entrance minutes before the water rose once more, sweeping into the space he’d been lying moments before.

The area surrounding wasn’t much better, the edges of the lake now lapping at the tree line that had been maybe 4 feet from where it had originally stopped. Flooding the area as it rose at a rapid pace.

Stan cursed, kicking his feet and swimming for the woods, swallowing the rising fear before he allowed himself to get swept away. The water was his territory, and he’d be damned before he let the ones in power forget it. He wasn’t just going to lie down and take his eventual demise, no matter how certain it was.

It was that thought that propelled him forward, fighting against the push and pull of the waves until he clambered to the edge of the rising lake, almost barreling straight into the woods before a gurgling rumble ripped through the air.

In a split second he threw himself to the floor, watching as a scaly tail whipped through the air slicing at the spot he’d stood moments before, carving thick notches into the pines as Stan could only stare, wide eyed at the monstrous form towering over the lake.

Using the near-miss’ opening, Stan pushed himself to his feet, jumping behind the closest tree as that sharp, whip-like appendage came sailing down once more, cracking against the bark as a deafening roar echoed across the arena.

Moses, what is that thing? Couldn’t they give him a break?!? Hell he’d take a fucking bear at this point. Stan cried out as he lunged away from the monster’s tail once more, feeling the sharpened scales graze past his cheek, slicing through it like butter.

The creature's beady eyes glowed a fierce yellow that clashed starkly with the blackened night. Honing in on Stan as he stumbled from tree to tree, hoping to lose the beast’s focus through the foliage, unable to gain even the slightest distance back as it stopped his retreat further into the woods, pushing its massive body up towards the land.

IT CAN WALK?!?

Whatever this thing was, it was intelligent enough to keep him cornered, cowering behind the nearest tree as it continued its assault, snapping some of the smaller trees from the ground as its ugly maw inched closer to its prize.

Heaving as a tree flew past inches from his hiding spot, Stan gulped in air, gasping as the creature churred a deep warbling noise that seemed to shake the very ground. Moving its head to scan the area, searching.

Stan thanked whatever god was out there that he’d managed to lose it for the time being, mind racing as he tried to catch his breath.

How in the hell was anyone meant to survive that thing? What was he going to do??

The cracking branches to his left sounded closer, as he hooked himself around the tree, hiding from the bright gaze sweeping the forest floor.

Shit! Come on Stan, there’s got to be something, they wouldn’t just throw in an impossible hurdle, they needed entertainment, odds. It wasn’t a gamble if it was set in stone. Come on! Come on! Just think! What would Ford do?

All at once, it dawned on him, memories of their time reading through books as kids all tumbling back, Ford’s voice recounting various facts about the deep sea. One in particular came to mind as the glowing yellow of the creature's eyes sparked one particular idea, the anglerfish’s eyes were extremely sensitive to light.

Stan swore as another tree crumbled under the weight the monster, fumbling for something in his backpack as he banked on the hope. Within moments, he felt his hand grasp onto the canteen he’d discovered when he’d first searched through the bag, one filled with oil.

His hands shook as he grabbed the largest net he could, dousing the ropes in the oil, his heart thundering in his chest all the while. One chance, one fleeting hope he could pull this off as the beast’s head closed in, pushing past the tree line.

Mumbling pleas to whoever was listening as he fumbled with his lighter, sparking it up and holding it against the slick rope, the thunderous roar that boomed overhead did little to break his concentration as the flame finally caught, quickly spreading along the lengths of the rope.

He wasted no time, angling the flaming net as it sailed forwards, weighted anchors wrapping around the beasts jaws as Stan yelled out a desperate sound of his own, crashing into a tree as a clawed hand swiped past. The beast coiling back in pained shock, twisting its body and flailing against the rope as it howled.

Stan sunk the ground, cradling his burnt hands against his chest as he wheezed, already feeling the bruises marring his chest even as he watched the creature retreat, slamming its body into the water with a final shriek. Letting out a disbelieving chuckle as he sat propped against the tree, relief flooded through him.

Outside, the capital had exploded in cheers, watching as Stan pushed himself up and descended into the woods to find a place to lick his wounds. A collective buzz was soaking up the staunch mood of the previous night.

Further beyond, Ford collapsed back into his chair as Fiddleford hooked an arm around his shoulder, bearing the sobs that croaked out of the man’s throat.

“Oh, oh, Moses, F, that was too close, he-he almost.” Fidds shot him a pitying look, clutching the man’s heaving shoulders as he folded in to himself, dragging a hand to mask the tears slipping from his eyes.

“I know… but it’s like ya said, Ford, he’s a fighter, I reckon it’s gonna take a few more licks than that to bring him down.” Fidds squeezed Ford’s shoulder in a move he hoped was comforting, wiping a hand across his own tired eyes as they gazed at the screen, having been startled awake by Ford’s yell as they watched Stan battle the gobblewonker.

“We need to work faster, F, the longer we wait…” Another sob broke through, covering the words that went unsaid as they both felt the weight of the task ahead.

“We’re gonna get 'em back. Or die tryin.” It was the only thing he could think of, resolve tightening as Ford collected himself, looking up at him with the same fire burning through him.

“We have to.”

[kurishiri]

Bitter END ┊ A faux vow to the pure white bride —Nica Schwartz—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don't repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: mention of drugs.

[CHURCH]

Nica: And what might this be?

Approaching Benjamin, Nica reached into his suit to take out a small bag——a sachet.

When he did, the fragrance from when we had met Benjamin yesterday grew stronger.

(What a strange smell...)

I tried to move closer without haste, when Nica stuck out his hand.

Nica: These leaves [1] are used to treat pain and insomnia. Something you could easily get at a pharmacy.

N: That said, inhaling it can bring about a sense of euphoria, making you feel like you’re floating and ridding the pain.

N: It’s very addictive, so inhaling too much can drive you crazy, you know.

Benjamin: Wh— hand that over!

In a panic, Benjamin tried to snatch it back, only to be sidestepped.

Nica threw the sachet aside, glaring at the workers who were in the church.

Nica: Was it fun for you, driving those kids insane with these leaves?

All of a sudden, I recalled the kids we met the day before.

Seemingly spellbound, they would approach Benjamin,

saying things like “I can’t wait” or “give it to me.”

(That said, if he was Cursed, perhaps he could have used his ability unknowingly.)

But what if that was rather a result of a drug dependency——?

Nica slowly nodded.

Nica: It’s as you think. He isn’t Cursed at all.

N: He’s just a trash bastard who toys around with kids.

All those present other than me and Nica started to make noise, their gazes swimming around.

Nica: And the orphanage that took care of the kids of couples who got wedded at Tiamo?

N: It was there you would preach it was ‘treatment’ to use drugs on children and exploit them, enjoying it all the while.

N: And be it man or woman, when night fell you-know-what would go on at the orphanage, am I right?

Legal drugs, young children, addiction, nighttime——and exploitation.

All of those terms led to one and only one answer.

Nica: I couldn’t sleep yesterday, so I took a stroll around the area, and that’s when I happened upon it.

Nica laughed out of spite.

N: The place where kids who were considered a defect were eliminated.

Kate: ...!

My fingers trembled out of anger and sadness, and unable to speak, I stood still where I was.

Benjamin looked toward the pastor, as if seeking help,

and nodded at him.

(What are they...)

The next moment, the pastor pointed a gun my way——

Nica: Wh— Kate!

Realizing the gun was pointed my way, Nica hugged me as though to cover for me.

Time seemed to flow in slow motion in that very moment as our bodies reeled,

as a line of red flew through the air.

In tandem with the gunshot that rang, we stumbled onto the seat, Nica’s arms still around me.

Kate: Nica!

Nica: Whatever you do, don’t show yourself.

He then stood back up, holding me with one arm and hiding me while fighting back with his gun.

Tiamo’s pastor: Now that he knows, he may not leave here alive! Kill him!

The sound of gunshots, cries, and the stained glass and chairs breaking resonated.

Perhaps because the previous gunshot had grazed him, Nica’s left arm was bleeding.

Wearing a stern expression while protecting me, he continued to shoot.

Nica: And that’s that.

With one final shot, the place went silent.

Looking his way as he put his gun back in the holster, I slowly showed myself.

The pastor, Benjamin, and the workers now laid deceased, the church now a sea of blood.

Nica: Ugh, I’m exhausted. I’ll go ask Dari to clean this mess up when we get back.

N: Ah, are you okay, Spatzi? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?

He seemed so indifferent as he looked at me,

it was hard to tell at all that he had just killed people moments before.

Kate: Um...

I had lots I wanted to say.

That Benjamin wasn’t Cursed, and that the kids had fallen into addiction...

Knowing Nica, he probably realized all that yesterday.

(So why couldn’t he have said so sooner...)

I ripped off the hem of my dress and wrapped it around his arm tightly to stop the bleeding.

Nica seemed surprised at that.

Nica: You finally got to wear a wedding dress, but now you’re ripping it? (O_O)

Kate: Do you think I’d want to wear this in our current state?

Nica: Touché, I would probably hate getting married while covered in blood too.

The pure white was growing more stained in his blood.

Prodding his brow, Nica laughed, seeming a bit troubled.

Nica: Why make that face? If I said it to you earlier, you would’ve gone running straight to the children to help them, wouldn’t you.

N: But my job was only to investigate Benjamin. All else is outside the scope.

N: So if anything happened to you then, I wouldn’t be able to protect you. That’s why I purposely kept it to myself.

Kate: Then why did you kill all these people?

If it was truly ‘out of scope’ as he said, then we should’ve been able to escape without having to kill them.

But, Nica did not do that.

Nica: ...I got frustrated, so I killed them. That’s all there is to it.

With an awkward look, Nica averted his eyes as he stood up.

Nica: Well, now that we’re finished here, let’s head back.

He pulled me up by my arm and started to walk, without turning back.

Nica: Say, do you have any marriage prospects?

As Nica asked slowly, I thought about it.

Kate: Not in particular, I suppose... That said, if such a time were to come, I would want to be able to have a wonderful ceremony where we can properly exchange vows of love.

Nica: Hmm.

Ever so slightly, I wanted to avert my eyes from the inhumane things that occurred here and the scene that spread behind us,

so while I responded in a bright tone, Nica stopped.

Nica: For me, I don’t think I can make those vows. No matter how much I adore or love someone... I could never.

He turned around and looked down at me, pointing at the blood that fell on the dress.

Nica: Pure white should be reserved for the day you hold dear. For someone—anyone, other than me.

His smile seemed to hold a hint of self-deprecation, and it felt as though he would disappear to a place my hands would not be able to reach.

When I tried to open my mouth to call his name, though, he hugged me, drowning out any sound.

Nica: ...But from the face you’re making, it’s like you’re saying you’d be fine with me too.

Kate: I...that...

I couldn’t say that I was scared that he would disappear because of the arms wrapped tightly around my back.

Nica: If you’re fine with it, I’ll stay with you.

[BLACK]

N: That said, I can’t promise you happiness.

Fin

masterlist 🍒 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

prev. ⋮ prem. ⋮ fin

NOTES:

[1] They probably mean cannabis or marijuana. The word here is [葉っぱ] (happa), which means leaf, but is also slang for cannabis, the same way “weed” emerged as slang in English. I’m assuming “weed” does parallel with the use of [葉っぱ] as slang, but such slang emerged in the 1900s, which would’ve been before the time the story takes place, so I’m just using “leaves” here.

[pwesident]

at the party watching couples be sappy i have a bomb

[evilvillain123456789]

I was driving home from school and my bored AF ADHD'er son managed to slip from his restraints and pop the sunroof before I could subdue him, and due to the speed I was going (Casual 230MPH down the highway 410) even just pushing the button a little bit caused my toyota yaris to depressurize like an airplane, squeezing my sons relatively pliable head thru the inch thick crack, and fully inverting both eardrums out of mine. Luckily for me, the spew of gore left over from the delta P that flew behind me had splattered all over the police in pursuit's windshields, causing them to swerve, roll, crash, and let the K-9s loose, who instead of chasing me on foot via long distance tracking of blood, presumably went right for the windshield, and officers, and began licking it up quite hungrilly. Finally able to safely slow down and approaching my driveway, I quickly shifted the car to neutral, then neutral, then another neutral to park it, and dug through my purse to put some chapstick on. I then found a q-tip, pushed my eardrums back in, and went inside. After making dinner for my husband I had a wonderful nights rest. The next day I woke up at 3:40 PM and realized I'd be late to pick my son up from school, so I hauled ass back over to the elementary. After waiting in line for HOURRRRS I had remembered- I dont have a son... I have a baby! Babies don't go to school! Looking lovingly in the rearview mirror to smile at what would- should have been my precious darling, I instead saw a ghastly sight. Like, it still shakes me to this day. I dont know who- or what was there in the seat, but it wasn't my little baby. My baby isn't gray and green. And my baby smells good, not bad. I grabbed them, shook them, demanding to know who they are and what they want with my family, but they just rolled their head around to mock me. Running out the car screaming, I called 911, inconsolable, there's been a kidnapping, I have a suspect here with no identification and theyre not speaking. Yes. Yes. Uh, about a foot tall. Pale complexion. HURRY UP. The operator says the citys last 2 cops were killed in a standard procedure freak accident last evening so no ones coming to help then hung up the phone. Dejected, I leaned against the hood of my car, and sobbed. Utterly hopeless... Until, on the horizon, I saw it. Two tan dots running down a distant hill... THE POLICE DOGS! Turns out, they HAVE been tracking my cars blood trail! Things are finally going my way! After about half an hour they get here, and I welcome them, but they just ignore me in favor of sniffing the ground a lot. Eventually they started nosing at the door handle so I pulled it, and both dogs instantly leapt in, tearing the intruder to shreds. The ruckus rolled my car forwards a bit, and by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. Since I have 5 neutral gears installed it just didnt stop, and I watched everything come to a head as it shot full speed downhill, out of sight within seconds. I dialed 911 again to tell them their police dogs had jacked my car and that I'd be suing the city for $6,000 to cover it, but before the operator could get a word in, the loudest sound in the fucking world played through my phone speaker, something so loud that I could have swore I heard it from outside the call as well. I said I'd be suing for damages to my hearing as well, but they didn't respond. I think I scared them off. Serves them right.

[mafiadad5]

Teach me to not love || L. HC (part 1)

𐙚 fuckboy!haechan x fem!reader (ft. best friend jaemin)

Part 1 | Part 2 (coming June 30th) | Part 3 (coming soon)

𐙚 synopsis- Jaemin’s out for revenge after Haechan slept with the girl he liked. You’re just supposed to be a distraction, something pretty to keep Haechan’s mind off of what Jaemin was doing. He’s cute, addictive— you should stay away… you really should, but when he touches you like that how are you supposed to remember what’s right?

𐙚 genre- college au, smut/ porn with plot (MDNI 18+), angst, slight fluff.

𐙚 warnings- drug use, alcohol use, sex under the influence, lost of virginity, protected sex, oral (fem receiving), marking, praising, sorta rough sex, arguing, slight sexual Jaemin moment, mention of death.

𐙚 W/c- 14k

Now playing: House of balloons/ Glass table girls- The Weeknd

a/n- hi guys! I really wanted to post this all in one part, but tumblr had other plans loll. I’ve poured months (and a few breakdowns T.T) into this, so I really hope you enjoy it! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part, and I’d love to hear what you think <3

══════════════════════════

It was a typical Thursday night—  your desk lamp casted a soft glow over your notes as you flipped through flashcards for your biology test. You were focused, head down as you muttered terms under your breath, determined to cram as much into your brain as humanly possible before crashing, then came the voice.

"Oh, Y/n!!!"

Your door flew open with no hesitation. You didn't even have time to respond before Jaemin strolled in like he owned the place, grinning from ear to ear.

"What the fuck." You muttered under your breath, barely looking up as he waltzed in and flopped himself onto your bed. 

"Jaemin, what are you doing here— how did you even get in?" You asked, spinning in your chair with a look of disapproval stretched across your face.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Your hot roommate let me in."

You raised a brow. "The one who has a crush on you?"

"The one I may fuck." He said with a grin as he stretched out, hands behind his head, settling in like he had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

"Ok, yuck. Didn't you literally fuck the other one?" You said flatly, turning back to your desk, scooping up your stack of color coded flashcards with a sigh. "Seriously though, what are you doing here? I told you I'm locking in tonight."

"You lock in every night." He said, dragging out a dramatic sigh.

"And that's why our intelligence levels are not in the same bracket." You joked, a small smirk appearing on your lips, even though your eyes stayed focused on the pile in front of you.

"So you don't love me, I guess?" He asked, his voice tilting into that overly dramatic tone you knew too well.

"Exactly." You said, spinning around to face him again.

"Wow... so cold. After ten years of friendship, this is how I'm treated? Unrequited love, what a tragedy." He said, clutching his chest, face twisted in fake agony.

"I love you, Jaemin. I've loved you since we were nine. You're my best friend ever. There, happy now?" You said deadpan, raising an eyebrow.

He froze for a second, then grinned slowly. "Wow... so you really love me? Like, really love me? You'd do anything for me, because you're so in love with me, right?"

You narrowed your eyes immediately. You knew that tone, it was the 'I need something' voice.

"What do you want Jaemin?" You sighed, already regretting humoring him.

"Ugh, you know me too well. Ok, hear me out." He said sitting up now, a bright smile spreading across his face. "I need a favor. A small one— tiny really."

You crossed your arms. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to come to a party with me tomorrow night."

You blinked. "A party? Jaemin, you know I don't do parties. Especially not when I have class the next day."

"You have class at noon on Fridays." He countered quickly. "You'll be fine."

You gave him a long, skeptical look. "So all I have to do is... go to a party with you? That's it?"

He opened his mouth and hesitated.

You instantly leaned back. "Nope... nope, you're already pushing it. What's the real reason?"

"Wait! Just... let me explain, please." He clapped his hands together in a prayer gesture.

You sighed. "Ok fine. I'm listening, speak."

He sat up straighter, his grin faltering just a bit. "There's this guy, Haechan. I'm really fucking pissed at him."

You tilted your head. "Why?"

"He slept with the girl I really liked. Like, genuinely liked, not just thought was hot liked."

"Oof, I'm sorry." You said. "And... what does that have to do with me?"

He looked at you, dead serious now. "I want revenge."

You squinted. "What kind of revenge?"

"I want you to distract him. Just talk to him, keep him downstairs at the party, keep him busy, while I... you know."

"Jaemin." You said slowly. "Distract him from what?"

He hesitated for only a second, then smiled. "From me."

Your eyes narrowed. "If you're doing anything illegal, I'm out."

"I'm trying to fuck his sister."

There was a full beat of silence as your mouth dropped open, eyes wide.

"You what— seriously?" You said, disbelief and a reluctant laugh bubbling up all at once.

"She's hot!" He defended, already laughing. "And it's perfect, he'll lose his shit when he finds out."

"You couldn't just... I don't know, hook up with a girl he likes or something? Call it even?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Yeah well, Haechan doesn't like girls." Jaemin said casually.

You blinked, your brows furrowing slightly. "...hmm?"

He held up a finger with a small smile. "Not like that, don't look at me like that."

You leaned back, smirking. "Mmm, sure."

"What I mean is, he doesn't have feelings for anyone. Not girls, not really anyone. He just uses people— gets what he wants, then tosses them aside. He's emotionally detached. Kind of fucked up, honestly."

You frowned slightly. "You're just being dramatic."

"He's dramatic!" Jaemin shot back. "The man throws house parties on Thursdays for no reason. He once invited a girl over, got head, and then called her a uber while she was still on her knees."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Damn, he sounds like a real asshole. How does someone like that have this big of a name already?"

"He's a senior." Jaemin said with a roll of his eyes. "But all he does is throw parties, drink, and do drugs. He's a loser honestly."

You exhaled. "So... all I have to do is distract him— nothing else?"

"That's it. Just talk to him, keep him downstairs for like twenty minutes. If he tries anything, call me and I'll come get you. Promise."

You bit your lip, thinking. "Ok Fine, but only this once."

"YES! Oh my god, I love you so much, you're actually the best." Jaemin said, beaming at you.

"Yeah, yeah. Now you owe me, pick up those flashcards." You said, tossing the stack into his lap as you turned back to your desk.

He caught them and gave a smile. "Delighted, my queen."

You just rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you reached for your pen.

══════════════════════════

You finished the final touches on your hair, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror before grabbing your phone. Right on cue, Jaemin's name lit up the screen with a text:

Jaemin [11:47 PM]:

"I'm outside."

Stepping outside, you spotted him leaning against his car, arms crossed and a grin already spreading across his face as he saw you approach.

"Damn." He said, letting his gaze travel from head to toe with an exaggerated nod of approval. "You look sexy."

"Thank you, Jaemin." You replied smoothly, brushing past him with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

He opened the passenger side door for you, but paused before you could step in. "I mean... we don't have to go right now, you know. We could go upstairs instead— chill a little, you and me... one on one." He tilted his head, giving you the same smirk he always uses when he's up to no good.

You raised your hand and snapped your fingers right in front of his face. "Focus."

"I am focused." He said, blinking slowly. "Just... not on the party anymore."

"Seriously." You said, sliding him a look as you walked to the car. "Is it your life's mission to try and sleep with every girl you meet?"

"Not every girl." He replied, shrugging as he followed behind. "Only the special ones."

You raised a brow. "And what would your mother think of you throwing yourself at someone who's practically your sister?"

"Ew, don't say it like that." He scowled, visibly shuddering. "That ruined it for me, thanks."

"Good." You smirked, climbing into the car.

He got in on the driver's side and started the engine, throwing you a side glance. "You're lucky I love you, anyone else and I'd have driven off by now in heartbreak."

"Right, so tragic." You said with fake sympathy, adjusting your seatbelt. 

Jaemin chuckled, turning up the music just enough to fill the space between you. The drive was short, maybe ten minutes at most, but the energy shifted just slightly as the neon lights of the house party came into view down the street.

He slowed the car and looked over at you. "Hey... real talk for a second."

You turned toward him, a little wary. "What?"

"I know I joke a lot." He said, eyes flicking over your face, a little more serious now. "But I'm not gonna throw you into the deep end or anything. If this gets weird or Haechan gets weird, just call me and I'll come get you, no questions."

You blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. "Jaemin..."

"And if you wanna bail at any point." He added. "Just say the word."

A small smile appeared on your lips. "Thanks. I mean it's just a distraction mission, right? I think I can handle that."

He nodded, but his gaze lingered on you. "I know you can. You're... careful, thoughtful— like you think ahead."

You gave a dry laugh. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not." He said. "Just means I won't have to worry about you doing something stupid."

Your eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you trying to say?"

He hesitated, then said it gently: "I remember that conversation we had last year. About how you were still, you know... saving yourself."

Your cheeks flushed instantly. "Wow, really bringing that up right now?"

"I'm not judging." He said quickly. "I actually think it's cool. You're not like the rest of them, that's why I care if you're ok."

You looked out the window, the beat of the music fading under the weight of his words. "Thanks, I guess."

Jaemin parked across the street, cutting the engine. "I know I'm an asshole sometimes, but I wouldn't bring you into this if I didn't trust you."

You exhaled slowly, then met his eyes. "Ok, let's do this."

"Hell yeah." He grinned, hopping out and circling around to open your door once more.

You stepped into the house, instantly hit by the loud bass of the music and the scent of weed, alcohol, and too much cologne. Bodies swayed under strobe lights, some grinding against each other, others already too far gone to care how they looked. Jaemin kept a casual, but protective hand on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, eyes scanning the room like he was on a mission.

"That's him." He muttered, leaning down so only you could hear. He nodded subtly toward the kitchen.

Your gaze followed and landed on a guy behind the counter, restocking a row of liquor bottles.

You paused, he was... hotter than expected.

Black hair, tan skin, a body that made a plain black tee and jeans look like he was born for it. His movements were effortless, confident. His smile, charming. There was something in the way he looked people in the eye when talking, like they were the only person in the room. Your lips parted slightly as you took him in, eyes dragging over the way his shirt clung to his waist, the veins on his forearm flexing as he adjusted a bottle.

"Oh no." Jaemin teased, pulling you out of your trance. "Are we losing you already?"

"No." You said too quickly, blinking yourself back into reality. "No, just observing."

"Mmhmm." Jaemin smirked. "Well, he's your target babe. You've got all night."

"Lucky me." You muttered half sarcastically, but then he grabbed your arm gently.

"You sure?"

You turned toward him. "Yeah, are you?"

He nodded, though a flicker of something uncertain passed over his face. "Just, wait." He reached into his pocket and held something out, a condom.

"Jaemin—"

"Just in case." He said, tone serious now. "Even if he insists, don't let him talk you into going raw, I mean it."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. "I'm not gonna do anything, relax."

"I know you won't, Y/n." He said, softer now. "But he'll try and sometimes the heat of the moment sneaks up on you. So just... have it, please."

You took it with a small nod and shoved it into your back pocket.

"Good luck with your girl." You said.

"Good luck with your guy. If you need me, call me."

And with that, you were on your own.

You straightened your shoulders, pulled your confidence up, and walked toward the kitchen— eyes locked on him the whole time. He didn't notice you at first, too busy rearranging cups and pouring mixers, but when he turned, his gaze landed on you like a spark.

"You look a little bored over here all alone." You said, voice smooth.

He looked you over slowly, thoroughly. "I am, are you gonna do something about that?"

"Maybe." You smiled, tilting your head. "But are you really worth my time?"

He grinned, a cocky thing that only made him more irresistible. "Maybe."

You watched as he accidentally slammed a bottle of tequila a little too hard on the counter, too distracted by your presence.

"I don't know..." You said, stepping closer. "You can't even handle a bottle. What makes you think you can handle me?"

He leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "I can— when I'm drinking."

"That doesn't sound very fun." You teased, watching the way his eyes flickered down to your lips.

"It is fun." He said. "Especially with a pretty girl like you."

Your hand slid over his on the counter, fingers brushing against his skin as you lifted the bottle from under his touch. "Then why aren't we drinking?"

He paused for a second, watching you intently. "Why aren't we?"

"You're still hogging the bottle." You murmured.

For a moment, you were locked in a wordless gaze, one of those silences that say more than anything spoken. You held it, tested him with your eyes.

"Are you just gonna stare." You finally said. "Or are you gonna pour me a shot?"

He smiled and grabbed two glasses, pouring quickly.

"What are we cheering to?" He asked.

You smirked. "To wherever this night takes us."

He clinked his glass to yours. "Dangerous words."

You both downed the shots, the tequila burning its way down your throat. You didn't even shudder.

"Wow." He said, licking his lips. "You took that like a champ."

"I can take a lot." You replied, wiping the corner of your mouth and not looking away once.

"That so? He said, exhaling slowly, pausing for a second. "Then take another with me."

"Don't you wanna wait?" You asked, your voice hinting a bit of concern. 

"I thought you said you could take it." He challenged.

"Are you calling me a liar?" You raised a brow.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I guess I am."

You grabbed your glass, poured another, and tossed it back without blinking, and he followed right after. That turned into a third, then a fourth.

By now, your skin was buzzing, cheeks flushed with heat. The line between performance and reality blurred fast.

You talked about nothing— music, parties, stupid shit, other people you both barely knew, but everything had a spark to it. The way his gaze lingered when you laughed, the way his hand brushed your waist when reaching for more cups, the subtle way your knees touched.

"You dance?" He asked, stepping just slightly closer.

"Depends who's asking."

He gave that dangerous smile again. "You know who's asking."

You glanced at your phone, and still no text from Jaemin. Thirty minutes of flirtation— of temptation. You looked back up at Haechan, something electric passing between you.

You smirked. "Let's dance then."

The music pulsed around you as he led you out of the kitchen and into the crowd. The beat was dark, seductive, and you let yourself move to it, swaying your hips, letting the rhythm take you. His hands found your waist. You didn't stop him. His body pressed behind yours, chest to back, his lips brushing close to your ear every time he said something teasing.

His hand slid lower and you turned to face him, now chest to chest, bodies moving in sync.

He leaned in close, mouth brushing your ear. "You wanna go upstairs?"

You paused, swallowing hard. "Mmm... I don't know..."

He pulled back just enough to see your eyes. "Why not?"

"I don't want you to think I'm some kind of whore or something." You admitted, voice quieter now.

He blinked, then tilted his head, gaze softening just slightly. "Then let's not go upstairs."

You blinked at him, not responding.

He leaned closer again, voice husky. "Come here."

Before you could respond, he took your hand and led you down a dim hallway off the side of the living room, the noise of the party muffled behind you. It was quiet here, secluded . You were suddenly aware of how your pulse picked up.

He pushed you against the wall, hands bracing both sides of your head.

"This okay?" He asked.

You nodded slowly, heart racing and then his lips were on yours.

It was hot, insistent. His mouth moved like he already knew how you liked to be kissed— like you were meant to be tasted slowly, like his hands couldn't decide whether to cup your cheek or grip your hip tighter.

He pressed closer, lips trailing down your neck, his hand tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt. You gasped, your body reacting faster than your brain could catch up.

And then your phone buzzed, twice.

You broke the kiss breathless, and fished it from your back pocket. Jaemin.

"Clear. Let's go."

You looked up at Haechan, his lips kiss bitten.

"Aw, I gotta go." You said softly, smiling while biting your lip.

He blinked, still catching his breath. "Seriously?"

You said nothing, just shrugged.

He smirked, eyes glinting. "You leaving now makes me want you more."

You backed away slowly, keeping eye contact as you fixed your shirt. "Good."

You turned, leaving him in the hallway, the taste of tequila still tingling on your lips. 

You met Jaemin at the front door just as he was coming down the porch steps, his hair slightly tousled, lips flushed, and a dazed kind of grin stretching across his face. His shirt was wrinkled, and he looked like he'd just barely remembered how to walk straight.

You raised an eyebrow, smoothing your own hair out with your fingers. "What took you so long?"

He laughed, wiping his mouth like he was still catching his breath. "Got caught up in the moment."

You rolled your eyes as you both started walking down the sidewalk, leaving the pulse of the party behind you.

"I've never seen you this messed up in person." He said, glancing at you. 

You just shrugged, before turning to him. "How was your night?"

"Fucking amazing." He said, letting out a blissed sigh. "She was... yeah, worth it."

You smirked. "I'm happy for you. Sounds like you had fun." 

He turned to look at you, a little more alert now. "What about you? How'd it go?"

You shrugged with a soft smile, brushing your fingers against your lips almost unconsciously. "It was... fun. He's fun and hot— too hot, honestly."

Jaemin groaned dramatically, dragging his hand down his face. "Oh god, please don't tell me you slept with him."

You gave him a shove. "No, chill. He tried like you said he would, but I didn't. We just made out."

Jaemin gasped. "Y/n, you definitely have like, mono now."

You laughed, shoving him again. "He's not that bad."

"He's that bad." Jaemin said, shooting you a look. "How was he looking at you? It was probably like he was deciding how to ruin your life in the hottest way possible."

You gave a dreamy little sigh. "Yeah... I noticed."

Jaemin gasped. "Oh my god, you're into him."

"No I'm not." You tucked your hands into your jacket pocket, smiling to yourself. "He's just... magnetic. Like, he knows exactly what to say and exactly how to look at you when he says it."

"Uh huh, that's called manipulation." Jaemin said.

"I mean, maybe." You admitted. "But he was also weirdly... sweet? Like, he actually listened to me talk and he didn't push when I said no."

Jaemin raised a skeptical brow. "Ok, maybe a half point for consent, but let's not pretend this is some romance. You got lucky. I've seen girls fall for his type before, and they don't come out looking as cute as you do right now."

You gave a laugh. "I don't think I'm going back anyway. Not my scene."

"Good." Jaemin said with a little relief in his voice. "Because he's probably not gonna let you step foot at another party anyways because you rejected him. That boy's ego is fragile."

You tilted your head thoughtfully. "Well, if I never plan on going back, it doesn't matter what he thinks of me."

Jaemin grinned. "And that's why I love you."

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

He reached over and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a sideways hug as you walked. "Seriously, thank you. You saved my ass tonight."

"I know I did." You grinned, letting yourself lean into him for a second. "You owe me, like, five coffees and a weekend of doing whatever I want."

"Done." He said immediately. "As long as 'whatever you want' doesn't include throwing yourself at Haechan again."

You laughed. "He threw himself at me, thank you very much."

"Right, right." He said, laughing. "Just remember who's actually got your back when you get those 'u up?' texts at 2 AM."

You gave a smile, already hearing the echo of Haechan's voice in your head, the taste of tequila and heat still lingering on your lips.

"I won't forget." 

══════════════════════════

It had been about a week since the party, and life had mostly returned to normal. School, studying, sleep, repeat. But he kept showing up uninvited in the quiet moments between thoughts. The memory of his voice, the glint in his eyes, the way his hands felt when they slid around your waist like he'd done it a hundred times before. You hated how he stuck in your head.

Still, it was whatever. You weren't going to do anything about it. You had your routine, and it didn't include making out with cocky boys in back hallways at house parties.

You'd just wrapped up another cram session for your Thursday Bio test—highlighted notes and color coded flashcards spread across your desk, when you heard it. A familiar, echoing voice in the hallway.

"Y/n!"

You didn't even look up. "You never knock."

Jaemin burst into your room like he owned the place, arms wide, his signature grin already plastered on his face. "My beautiful Y/n, I have arrived."

You leaned back in your desk chair, crossing your arms. "I can see that."

He walked over to hug you, and you let him, even though you were still recovering from the mental strain of studying.

"You know." You mumbled as he pulled back. "One day you're going to bust in here and catch me changing or worse, touching myself."

"Even more reason to keep doing it." He smiled.

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually such a creep."

"Yeah, yeah." He laughed it off, but then paused. His smile lingered familiarly, but you saw the hesitation flicker in his eyes.

You squinted. "What do you want, Jaemin?"

He gasped dramatically. "Y/n! I'm hurt, you think I only come here when I need something?"

You gave him a look, one he couldn't argue with.

"Ok, fine." He said. "But in my defense, we help each other equally."

"You mean I help you and you buy me coffee once a month?"

"Exactly." He grinned.

You sighed. "What is it this time?"

Jaemin scratched the back of his neck. "So, remember how you said you wouldn't go back to the party again?"

You blinked slowly. "Yeah..."

"Well, technically I'm not asking you to go for you. I'm asking on behalf of... well, her. His sister, she invited me again, practically begged— and I think we both know how that's gonna go."

He glanced at you cautiously.

"And you want me to keep Haechan busy again." You finished for him, leaning back in your chair.

"Look, I wouldn't need you to, but it'd be... really helpful." He said carefully. "I just need him not in the way, just for a little while."

Your brain flickered back to Haechan. His smirk, the way he made you feel both seen and exposed. The way he leaned in like he already knew what you'd do next. You told yourself you were over it, just a one time heat of the moment thing. But even now, something twisted in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

"Listen, I know you said you're not—"

"I'm down." You said, the words escaping before your brain caught up.

Jaemin blinked. "Wait, seriously?"

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, sure. You need me, right?"

His eyes narrowed. "Wow you really like this guy."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm just looking out for a friend."

Jaemin crossed his arms, fake pouting. "I don't know, I'm reconsidering this whole plan now. First he gets the girl I liked, now it's my best friend? I might need to keep you on lockdown."

You smirked. "Maybe that was my plan all along, you should just stay in."

"Nope." He said, pointing at you. "We're going, but this is the last time, I swear. And for real, don't do anything with him. Now I'm actually worried."

You held up your hands in surrender. "It's my job to distract, that's what I'm gonna do."

"I don't know if I trust you with that anymore." He shook his head, even though he smiled.

"You should." You said quietly.

He paused. "I'm teasing." He said after a minute. "I do. I guess."

You just smiled, the kind that said you already made your decision.

The house was louder this time. Packed tighter, music thumping harder, the kind of base that made your bones vibrate. You stood with Jaemin for a moment, eyes scanning the crowd.

You told yourself this was just a favor, a distraction like last time.

But as soon as you saw him— Haechan, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, sipping something from a red cup with that lazy grin on his face, all of that logic began to melt.

He looked even better than you remembered. Black hoodie, chain peeking from under the collar, dark hair slightly damp.

He spotted you instantly, his smirk curling as he straightened up.

You glanced over at Jaemin. "You owe me."

"I owe you my life." He said, already making a beeline toward the stairs. And just like that, you were alone, again... with him.

Haechan pushed off the counter and met you halfway.

"Well, well." He said, voice low. "Look who came back for seconds."

You tilted your head. "Maybe I'm just here for the drinks."

His eyes scanned you, slow and deliberate. "You look like trouble tonight."

You stepped in, closing the gap just enough to be suggestive. "You think I wasn't trouble last time?"

He laughed, licking his lips. "No, last time you were temptation. Tonight? I don't think I'll be able to behave."

You let yourself smile just a little.

"Try to." You said, smirking as you hit Haechan's shoulder, weaving through the crowd and heading straight to the kitchen. The music thumped through the walls, as you grabbed a bottle of tequila from off the counter.

"You're already hurting my feelings." Haechan said from behind you, his voice dipping just enough to graze your nerves in that playful, confident way.

"How's that?" You asked turning, only for him to close the gap between you. His arms casually caging you against the counter, hands resting just close enough to your hips.

"Drinking without me." He said, smoothly taking the bottle from your hand like it belonged to him.

You tilted your head. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"

"You should know. It's my party, after all." He replied, that teasing grin never leaving his face as he leaned in just enough to test the space between you.

"You're cocky." You gave him a playful shove, but didn't move far.

"I'm Haechan. Who are you? I never got your name last time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Kissing a girl and not even knowing her name? I've heard about you, you know... what you do to girls, the type of person you are."

That made him pause for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he held your gaze. "But you're still here, aren't you?"

You didn't reply, just smiled slowly, head tilting amused at his boldness.

"So." He leaned in again. "Are you gonna leave me alone, or tell me your name?"

"Y/n."

"Pretty." He said, the smile that followed unusually soft, like he actually meant it.

You eyed the bottle still in his hand. "Are you just gonna stand there and smile at me, or pour the damn shots?"

"I thought you'd never ask." He reached past you, his arm brushing yours as he grabbed two shot glasses. His cologne hit you, mixing with the alcohol and the buzz in your chest.

The tequila burned on the way down, but it made your limbs feel warm, relaxed.

"Is tequila your favorite?" He asked, eyes not leaving you.

You shook your head, setting the glass down. "Vodka mixed drinks. I don't like taking things straight."

He grinned at that, grabbing a red solo cup. He poured vodka, rum, and a splash of something creamy and white—the scent immediately familiar.

"Pina colada mixer?" You asked, brow raised.

"You seem like the type. Plus, you told me last time." He said with a smile.

"You remembered?"

"Of course. You're kinda hard to forget." He said, clinking his cup to yours before sipping.

You looked down for a second, smile slipping in without warning. "I really shouldn't be talking to you."

"Says who?"

"Myself, my conscience."

He shrugged. "You're a big girl, smart too. You know what you're doing. Just let go a little, everything doesn't have to be heavy all the time."

You gave him a playful side eye. "No?"

"Nope. If it was, it wouldn't be fun."

Before you could reply, someone passed by and handed him what looked like a vape.

"Fuck yes." Haechan muttered, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly, the smoke curling out the side of his mouth.

He held it out. "Want a hit?"

"Nah, I don't vape."

He blinked a little surprised, then laughed. "Baby, this is a cart, not a vape."

"Oh." You giggled. "That makes sense. Smelled... different."

"So do you want it?" He asked again.

"I don't know, I don't really do drugs."

"It's just weed. It's chill— makes everything feel good." He said, his tone smooth, not pushy.

You hesitated, biting your lip.

"I'm not forcing you, but trust me— it's fine."

"...Okay, fine." You took the cart, cautiously bringing it to your lips and inhaling. It hit your lungs faster than you expected, making you cough, but after a few seconds you got used to it, taking a few more hits. Warmth spread through you, you felt light and weightless.

"Haechan." You murmured, blinking slowly, finishing the drink in your hand. "Let's dance."

He didn't argue. You pulled him onto the dance floor where bodies swayed and moved like one blur of motion, but you were only aware of him. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements. His breath brushing the curve of your neck. His mouth near enough to graze your ear when he laughed at something you said.

And then you kissed him.

You didn't think— your lips were on his, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as he melted into it. The kind of kiss that made everything else disappear.

"How about we take this up to my room?" He whispered into your mouth, voice low.

"I told you I felt like—"

"You're not a whore." He cut in gently. "I want you. That doesn't make you anything except someone I want."

You hesitated for a second, the distant part of your brain catching up. "I don't know, my friend might come looking for me. He was supposed to—"

"He's not here right now." Haechan's voice was low and coaxing. "You're here, with me. You can make your own decisions."

You didn't answer,  just grabbed his hand and followed him upstairs.

You were halfway down the hallway, your heart fluttering, when you passed a room and the unmistakable sound of soft moaning filtered out from behind the closed door.

Haechan paused, head turning. "What the fuck?" He muttered, steps slowing.

Shit... Jaemin.

Before he could say anything more, you spun him to face you, grabbing his face urgently, your hands warm against his cheeks. His brows lifted in surprise.

"Focus on me." You whispered.

And then you kissed him again, deeper and slower this time. Your hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer as your bodies melted together. His hands found your waist again, but they didn't stop there, traveling up your sides, fingers over your bare skin as his mouth moved against yours with increasing hunger.

He backed you gently into the nearest wall, lips never leaving yours as the kiss deepened. Your back arched into his touch, your hands tugging at the collar of his shirt, desperate to feel more.

His mouth dragged from your lips down your jaw, kissing, teasing, then down your neck where he paused, sucking gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"Room's this way." He murmured between kisses, and you followed him, half stumbling into his room, laughing softly as he shut the door behind you.

The moment it clicked shut, he was back on you, lips on your neck, hands guiding you toward the bed.

He pushed you down onto the bed, his body pressing against yours as he climbed on top. One hand slid roughly up your thigh, bunching your dress higher, never breaking contact with your neck as his mouth stayed hot against your skin.

His fingers played with the edge of your underwear for a moment, teasing, before pulling them down to your knees.

He paused then, lifting his head. His eyes met yours, and for just a second something shifted, uncertainty flickering across his face. He licked his lips like he was thinking, maybe even questioning, but before you could say anything, he lowered himself again, kissing a slow path down your body, lips soft against your thigh.

His breath was warm against your skin as he kissed the inside of your thigh, slow and steady, his hands holding your legs apart. Every movement felt like he wanted to make sure you felt everything— every kiss, every brush of his lips.

He glanced up at you once more, eyes darker now, the hesitation from before gone. Then he lowered his head again, his mouth finding the tender spot just above your knee, then higher. His fingers slid up your thighs, anchoring you in place as his mouth moved closer, teasing you.

You could feel your body tightening beneath him, breath catching in your throat as he finally reached your folds, his lips brushing against your clit, gentle at first.

Then he gave in completely, his mouth working you with focus, his hands gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go.

His tongue slid over you as he teased you with soft flicks and gentle pressure, each movement sending a wave of heat through your body. Your hips shifted under his touch, instinctively searching for more, but he held you steady, his grip firm on your thighs.

He looked up at you again, eyes heavy, mouth glistening. Then he dove back in, hungrier this time, his tongue moving with purpose now, circling, pressing. The sounds he made vibrated against you, adding to the overwhelming sensation building fast inside you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, needing something to hold onto as he drove you higher. He responded to every twitch, every gasp, adjusting his pace, his pressure, as if he could read exactly what your body craved.

Then he slid one finger inside you slowly, deeply, curling just right. The rhythm of his hand and mouth worked in perfect sync, pulling you closer to the edge with each passing second.

That's when your phone buzzed, the vibration low, but sharp against the haze in your mind. Your eyes blinked open, lashes heavy as you glanced down. A message lit up the screen.

Jaemin [1:35 AM]:

"I'm ready. Meet me outside."

"Ignore it." Haechan murmured against your thigh, voice deep and muffled. His lips brushed warm against your skin, but your eyes stayed on the message.

"Mmm... I have to go." You said, sitting up slowly, the daze of alcohol and drug weighing your limbs.

"What?" He asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, lips still wet.

You smiled, pushing hair from your face as you stood fully. "Leaving you on a cliffhanger again."

"You're evil." He smirked lazily.

"Mm, bite me." You teased with a wink, turning for the door.

"Wait." He cut through.

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder with a raised brow.

"Can I at least get your number or something?"

You shook your head, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips. "Where's the fun in that?"

And then you were gone, the door clicking shut behind you. Haechan just smiled to himself, letting out a breath as he ran a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable."

Outside, the cool air hit your flushed cheeks as you stumbled into the night, spotting Jaemin.

"There she is." He grinned. "Somebody's fucked."

"You are too, shut up." You giggled, smacking his chest lightly.

"Nah, just you. I'm only a little bit drunk." He gave you that smug, crooked smile that always made your stomach flip.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You muttered with a grin, stumbling into him slightly.

His arm came around your shoulders without thinking steadying you, but then he stopped, glancing at your face more closely, his smile fading.

"Y/n." He said slowly. "Are you... high?"

You paused, lips parting like you hadn't even thought to lie. "Maybe." You giggled.

Jaemin stared at you, concern overtaking every line of his face. "You never do that shit... you barely drink anymore— what the hell happened?"

"Relax, Jaem. It was just weed, a few hits. I'm fine."

"You could've had a bad trip." He said, eyes narrowing. "Or what if it was laced? You don't know who the fuck gave you that. You don't know what could've happened—"

"Can you chill?" You said, laughing. "You sound like my parent."

"That's what I gotta be when you do stupid shit like this." His voice dropped, rough with something deeper. "I just... I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

You smiled. "I'm fine, I swear."

"Alright. I'm staying at your place tonight."

"Damn, thanks for asking."

He gave you a look and just giggled again.

When you got home, your shoes hit the floor one by one as you peeled off your jacket, then the thin dress that clung to your skin. You collapsed face first into your bed in only your bra and underwear, the sheets cool against your flushed skin.

Jaemin followed behind. He dropped into your desk chair with a heavy exhale, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it aside. He leaned back, phone in hand, scrolling casually.

"You look good in this lighting." You said, voice smooth and thick as you propped yourself up on your elbows.

He looked up at you over his screen, lips quirking. "You're really saying that right now?"

"Mmhmm." You let your eyes drag down his figure slowly. "You've always been pretty Jaemin."

He laughed under his breath, glancing back at his phone, but not before you caught the slight flush in his cheeks.

You sat up more, letting your legs dangle over the side of the bed, posture relaxed, but eyes sharp with mischief.

"Come here." You said.

He raised an eyebrow. "To the bed?"

"Yeah, just wanna be close."

He hesitated for half a moment before standing. "You're so high." He muttered with a smirk, making his way over. He sat beside you, hands propped behind him on the mattress.

You leaned into him, fingers brushing up his arm softly. "You smell good." You murmured, eyes locked on his lips.

"Do I?" He asked, amusement threading through his voice.

"You always do." Your fingers trailed over his chest now, dragging down to his stomach. His muscles tightened slightly beneath your touch, but he didn't stop you. "And your skin's soft..."

Jaemin watched you, breath slower now. "You're really flirting with me right now?"

"I'm not flirting." You said, tone quiet. "I'm appreciating."

Your lips ghosted along his jaw, then lower to the curve of his neck. He tilted his head slightly, allowing the contact. You kissed him there— slowly, sensual, your lips lingering just a second too long.

He swallowed hard.

"I know you like it." You whispered.

His hand slid instinctively to your thigh, gripping gently as your lips traced down the side of his throat. He leaned into it, breathing deep through his nose.

But then—

"Wait." He said suddenly, pulling back. "I can't."

You blinked, stunned by the shift. "Why not?" You asked, voice low as you stared up at him.

"You're my best friend." He said, the words stuttering off his tongue.

"Oh, but when you ask to fuck me it's a different story?"

"It is." He said.

"Mmm, really?" You smirked, sliding your hand up his torso again, fingers trailing.

"Yes." He said firmly. "You're not sober and you don't actually want me right now, you're just under the influence... as fuck."

"I always want you." You said, eyes locked on his.

He sighed, the tension in his body slowly fading into something softer. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against him gently, tucking you under his chin.

"Please go to sleep, Y/n. I'm right here, just rest."

And... you listened. Eyes fluttering closed, breath slowing as the world dimmed into his warmth.

══════════════════════════

Your eyes fluttered open, vision blurry and head pounding. The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains. You slowly sat up, blinking against the ache throbbing in your skull.

Jaemin was sprawled next to you on top of the blankets, one leg stretched over the edge of the bed, scrolling casually through his phone. 

He glanced over. "Relax, it's just me." He said, offering a small smile.

You exhaled deeply, rubbing your temples with your fingers. A sharp pain spiked behind your eyes, a groan escaping your lips as you reached for your head.

"Here." Jaemin said, reaching down for a plastic bag on the floor. "I got you some water, some food, and Advil— for your headache." He set it on the bed beside you. 

"How'd you know I have a headache?" You asked, unscrewing the cap of the water and popping the pills into your mouth.

"Jesus, Y/n." He scoffed, sitting up straighter. "You were shit faced last night, obviously you're gonna have a hangover."

"Right." You said with a smile. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Yeah, of course." He returned the smile briefly, his attention sliding back to his phone.

Silence settled between you, but it wasn't entirely comfortable. Your brain was still catching up to reality, glimpses of last night flickering through your mind in half lit flashes. Laughter, music, moaning in the hallway. Haechan, and Jaemin... your heart beat a little harder at that last part.

"Hey..." You started cautiously. "Did we—" You hesitated. "We didn't do anything, did we?"

He chuckled, but didn't answer right away. The silence stretched a second too long, just enough to make your stomach flip.

"You tried." He said finally, his voice was calm, almost amused, but the words made your chest tighten. "But I stopped it, and you went to sleep— so, all clear." He gave you a lazy smile.

"Phew." You exhaled, falling back onto your pillow in relief.

"Damn." He teased, raising a brow. "Am I that bad?"

"No, no." You said quickly, laughing. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"All good over here, you don't." He replied, eyes flickering back to his phone.

You shook your head, grinning. "Damn, I'm such a horny freak."

"I see how you get when you're drunk... and high." He added, glancing over at you, disappointment flickering in his gaze.

"Stop, Jaemin." You groaned, pushing his shoulder playfully.

"I'm still disappointed about that." He said, his voice a little firmer. "You need to be more careful. That's the last time you're going there ever again."

"You can't tell me what to do." You teased, lips quirking into a smile.

"Ahh, I guess I can't." He said dramatically, reaching over and grabbing the bag of food.

"Stop, give it." You laughed, stretching across him to snatch it back. Your fingers brushed against his hand, and your eyes caught his for a long, silent moment.

Your voice softened. "You know... I'm seriously grateful that you take care of me when I need it."

He blinked, lips twitching into a small smile. "Yeah, yeah. Now can you eat?"

You nodded, finally opening the container and taking a bite of food. "I almost accidentally got you caught, but I saved it." You said between bites, your voice cheeky.

"How, come?" He asked, only half listening as he scrolled.

"We came upstairs and we heard moaning." You said with a grin. "I'm guessing your party."

"You came upstairs to do what?" He looked up sharply now, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You didn't respond, just smiled to yourself as you continued chewing.

"Did you fuck him?" He asked suddenly, sitting up straighter, eyes locked on yours.

"No, no." You answered quickly. "He just gave me head." Your voice was quieter now, but the confession hung in the air.

"He gave you head?" Jaemin blinked, dumbfounded. "YOU?" He repeated. "And he didn't get anything else from you? No sex, no head, not even a handjob?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Dude, he never does that... ever." He looked like he was short circuiting. "What's up with these guys just giving you head man? I'm impressed."

"First off, it only happened once before, so don't do that, and you know we don't talk about him, ok?" You said in a on edge voice.

"Ok, ok." He held up his hands in surrender.

"I guess I just gave the magic touch." You said with a smug smile.

"Damn, me next!" He cheered jokingly, grinning.

"Shit, maybe." You said with a smirk. "Haechan didn't even make me finish— well, because we were interrupted by someone." You shot him a playful look.

"Aw shucks." He said, chuckling. "Jaemin here to crash the party always."

"Partially." You replied. "I think he's not done with me though. Before I left, he asked for my number."

"He asked for your number— like, first? While you were leaving him?" Jaemin exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yep." You said.

"Did you give it to him?" He asked, leaning in like a gossipy teen.

"Nah. I don't think that's someone I should have access to at all times— for my own safety you know." You said, giggling. 

"You're so smart, that's why I love you so, so much." He said with a bright smile... before it faltered slightly.

"I'm not smart for not giving him my number. I'm just not dumb." You said, brushing off the moment.

He recovered with a quick grin. "Maybe you aren't as bright as I thought, because that is the same thing."

"Shut up." You laughed, nudging his shoulder. 

"Damn, I actually can't believe he did all this for you." Jaemin said, eyes wide again. "Nothing wrong with you of course, but he just— never acts that way with anyone. You might be his soulmate."

"Ew, shut up. Yes he's hot, but I could never imagine dating someone like him." You said, scrunching your nose.

"Good, because I doubt you're welcomed at any more parties after the double rejection you gave him." He said with a laugh.

"Didn't you say that the last time?" 

"Yeah, but I mean it this time. You rejected him like four times."

"Okay, enough Haechan talk." You set the now empty container aside and leaned back. "I appreciate everything, but you should get going to freshen up. Plus, I have class in like an hour."

"You're still going?" He asked, brows raising.

"Absolutely, I'd never miss class."

"Okay, well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitant. "Do you think we can meet up for dinner later?"

You paused, your tone shifting gently. "I think I need to be alone right now. I also have a project due on Tuesday that I'm cramming for because I got a little lazy. Let's meet... maybe Wednesday?"

He nodded. "Sounds good." With one last smile he stood up, grabbing his hoodie off the chair and slipping it on.

══════════════════════════

It was finally Wednesday, after days of cramming, sleepless nights, you had just submitted your project and shut your laptop with a dramatic sigh of relief. You sprawled out on your bed for a moment, eyes fluttering closed, the weight of the past few days slowly lifting off your shoulders.

The front door creaked open and slammed shut again, followed by the familiar shuffle of sneakers on hardwood.

"Yo." He called out, stepping into your room with a plastic takeout bag in hand.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, noticing something was off immediately. His voice lacked its usual playful energy. No cheeky grin, no snarky comment about your workaholic tendencies, just... a weird kind of stillness in his tone.

"What's up?" You asked, brows furrowing slightly at his hesitance.

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down for a second before meeting your gaze again. "I need you to come to the party with me again."

You blinked, half in disbelief. "Again?" You let out a soft giggle, sitting up fully. "Weren't you the one who banned me from that place like... twice?"

"Yeah, I know." He said with a sigh, plopping down beside you on the bed and setting the takeout between you. "But you're the only one who can distract Haechan well it appears, and fuck, that girl is so—"

He stopped himself mid sentence, biting his tongue. You stared at him, your smile fading slightly. He was always joking— even when things were serious, but right now he looked more anxious than amused.

"Right." You said slowly, nodding as you studied his face. You didn't press it— whatever that girl meant, you could guess, and it wasn't your place to dig.

"So... will you?" He asked again, voice low.

You hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

His shoulders relaxed, just a little, and the smallest hint of a smile broke through. "You're a lifesaver."

You reached into the takeout bag, pulling out your container with a soft smirk. "You owe me something good for this."

"Oh, I got you extra fries." He said quickly, handing the container toward you like it was a peace offering.

You rolled your eyes. "Bribery works I guess."

══════════════════════════

The party was already fill by the time you and Jaemin arrived per usual. As soon as you stepped inside, Jaemin melted into the crowd like a ghost.

You didn't even bother calling after him. You just sighed, brushing past a couple making out near the stairs as you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a drink.

The fridge was wide open, someone rummaging through it carelessly. You reached past them for a can of something and cracked it open, sipping without thinking.

"Is this gonna be a pattern?" A familiar voice teased from behind you.

You turned, already knowing who it was, of course.

There he stood, eyes on you like you were the only person in the room. His head tilted just slightly, like he was already amused.

You crossed your arms and let out a short sigh. "Is what a pattern?"

"You drinking without me." He said smoothly.

You shook your head, watching as he took a sip from his own cup. "You're drinking without me too, so I'm not sure that makes sense."

"Just casually." He grinned, his voice light. "Take a shot with me."

You eyed him for a second, then gave a small nod. He reached over to the counter, pouring two uneven shots, one for each of you.

You raised yours with a quiet "cheers" before knocking it back. The alcohol settled in your stomach, hot and quick.

"You know I'm not doing anything with you, right?" You said once the warmth hit your chest.

He raised a brow, grin widening. "Did I ask?"

You huffed a soft laugh, unable to hide the way your lips curved despite your better judgment and his smirk deepened like he won something.

"It's loud in here, come outside with me." He said, already reaching for the bottle again, refilling both your cups without waiting for an answer.

You hesitated, something in you buzzing—nerves or excitement, you weren't sure, but you nodded anyway.

Outside, the backyard was a complete contrast to the chaos inside. Quieter, almost peaceful. Blue and purple led lights in the pool, casting a neon glow in the water. The heat of the night clung to your skin, but the moment you dipped your feet into the cool pool, relief washed over you.

He sat beside you, pulling a pre rolled blunt from his pocket and lit it with a flick of a lighter. For a second, the flame highlighted his face, features softened by the glow.

"How are you?" He asked, voice quieter now. "How was your week?"

You turned to him, blinking. "You actually care? Wow, that's new."

"You're so negative." He said, exhaling smoke before offering it to you.

You stared at it for a moment, fingers twitching slightly. Then you took it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling slow. You held it for a second before letting it go with a sigh.

"I'm cautious." You murmured, passing it back.

"Mmm." He hummed, nodding, puffing again. 

"Why do you never disagree? Defend yourself when people say shit about you?" You questioned, turning to him. 

"Because it's true. I'm not afraid to admit it." He said, exhaling slowly. "But sometimes people talk and over exaggerate, make it seem like I'm just heartless. If they're scared and stay away, that's their problem. But if they know what they're getting into— or think they do, then why should I waste my energy proving them wrong? In my eyes, they're just as fucked up as me."

You were quiet for a moment, then nodded slightly in agreement. He passed the blunt again, and you took two more puffs in silence. It wasn't awkward, just still.

"So." You eventually said, eyes drifting to the lit up pool. "How do you have such a big house as a college student?"

"My parents." He replied, tone casual. "They pay for everything while they go prance around in different countries, leaving me and my siblings behind."

"Siblings?" You echoed, surprised. You knew he had a sister, but hadn't heard anything about more.

"Yep. A younger sister and brother." He said, taking another hit. "My sister's a junior, doesn't live with me, but I keep a guest room here for when she wants a break from her roommates."

"And your brother?"

"He's a sophomore, goes to college a few hours from here— said he wanted a fresh start. I still check in with him a few times a week. He's had his ups and downs, but he's a good kid."

"I get that." You said. "I went somewhere else freshman year too. Only stayed for a year before transferring back here this year."

"So you are a sophomore." He said, nodding. "I figured."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He only shrugged, sipping his drink.

"What's your story?" He asked, glancing over. "Why'd you want a fresh start?"

"My mom died about two years ago." You said, the words escaping before you could filter them.

His face shifted. "Oh shit, I'm sorry."

"It's good." You said quickly, brushing it off. "It's actually kind of stupid, out of all the drugs, she died from weed. It was laced."

"Damn." He muttered. "Is that why you were so hesitant earlier?"

You nodded. "Yeah. People don't realize how terrifying it is, it's real."

"Fuck, now I feel like an asshole." He said, running a hand through his hair, a tired chuckle leaving his mouth as he put the blunt out.

"Don't." You told him. "You gotta grow up and not be scared sometimes. Plus, I can make my own decisions."

There was a pause before you added with a lazy smile, "I don't even know why I'm talking to you."

"What— because I'm 'evil'?" He teased, one brow rising.

You laughed. "No. Because you're a stranger."

He leaned back dramatically. "Wow, you kissed a stranger. What did you say? Whore."

"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes. "I guess you're not too much of a stranger."

"Exactly." He grinned. "But sometimes you just need someone to be there for you, stranger or not."

His eyes lingered on you now, more serious than before. "But... we don't have to stay strangers— I don't think we should."

You raised a brow.

"Just give me your number." He said, voice softer.

You squinted at him, half amused. "Is that what this was all about?"

"No." He said quickly, then paused. "I just... you're different and I'm curious about you."

"Curiosity." You said, rolling your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

"There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" He leaned a little closer. "We should just mess around, find out more about each other. You must be curious too?"

You stared at him for a second, lips pressing into a tight line. "I'm not."

"Ouch." He laughed, not entirely believing you, but to his credit, he didn't push.

You paused, then let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll give you my number."

His grin widened as he pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you.

"Thank you." He said genuinely.

"Maybe now we don't have to only talk to each other on Thursdays." You said, punching in your digits and handing it back.

"Mmm." He smiled, his gaze lingering on you.

As if on cue, your phone lit up with a text.

Jaemin [12:58 AM]:

"Let's go."

You looked up, Haechan already watching you.

"Well, I've got to go." You said, standing and brushing off your skirt.

"Is there a night where you're not gonna leave me?" He asked, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at you.

"Mm... don't hold your breath." You smirked, waving before slipping back inside.

Jaemin was waiting by the door, hands in his pockets, a smile on his face.

"Well, well." He said as you approached. "What did you do tonight?"

"My job." You said with a giggle, eyes slightly hooded from the buzz in your system.

"Oh, you're high again?" His smile faded just a bit.

"Yeah, not a big deal." You said, casually hooking your arm around his like it was second nature.

"Right, and I can't even stay with you tonight."

"Why not?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Because you can't control yourself under the influence." He said bluntly.

"Wow, don't say that." You laughed. "I'm not even that fucked up, I could totally control myself."

"Right." He smirked. "But I probably can't."

"Yeah... maybe you shouldn't stay with me tonight then." You teased.

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head as the two of you disappeared into the night.

══════════════════════════

Saturday | 11:37 PM

You were curled up in bed, knees tucked beneath you, your laptop warming your thighs as the glow of the screen illuminated your face. The essay you've been chipping away at all day was only half done, and your focus was slipping fast. You already reread the same paragraph three times when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Unknown Number [11:37 PM]:

"Come over. Chill for a bit."

Your brow furrowed as you set your laptop aside and picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the screen.

You [11:37 PM]:

"Who is this?"

You already had a guess, but you weren't about to make it easy.

A few seconds passed.

Unknown Number [11:38 PM]:

"You know who it is."

You let out a quiet scoff, one corner of your mouth curling into a smirk, of course it was him.

You [11:39 PM]:

"Mmm, no I don't. So I guess that's a no."

Another pause, longer this time.

Unknown Number [11:40 PM]:

"Come over. Please."

Your thumb hovered again. You should've just gone back to your work, should've tossed your phone aside and shut the whole thing down. 

You [11:41 PM]:

"I seriously can't, busy rn."

Unknown Number [11:41 PM]:

"Bummer."

You stared at the message, your bedroom suddenly too quiet. The flicker of curiosity and something else sat in your chest.

You [11:42 PM]:

"You can come over later though. We could watch a movie or something."

His response was fast.

Unknown Number [11:42 PM]:

"Later? It's already 11."

You [11:43 PM]:

"Ok, then don't."

Silence. Then...

Unknown Number [11:44 PM]:

Send the address.

You hesitated, biting your lip for a minute too long. Then you dropped a pin and hit send.

1:27 AM

You opened the door, blinking against the cooler air spilling into the hallway. Haechan stood there, hair tousled, a six pack of drinks in one hand and a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Didn't think you'd actually send it." He said, stepping inside without waiting.

"Didn't think you'd actually come." You replied, locking the door behind him.

"We're just sitting in the living room." You said, already making your way towards the couch.

"Perfect." He said, slipping off his jacket and tossing it over the armrest as he followed.

You pulled up something half decent on Netflix, something neither of you would end up watching, and settled in. He handed you a drink, and you clinked your cans together quietly.

He was the first to speak.

"How've you been? Since Thursday." He asked, voice soft, watching you from the side.

You took a slow sip, eyes on the screen. "Busy. Regretting life decisions."

He chuckled, amused. "Yeah, which ones?"

"Letting you text me."

A grin tugged at his mouth as he leaned back, one arm draping lazily along the back of the couch. "You're the one who invited me, sweetheart."

"You begged."

"I don't beg."

You gave him a look. "You literally said please."

"I'm just a convincer." He shot back smoothly.

"Manipulator." You corrected with a smile.

He laughed again, reaching into his pocket. "Mind if I hit this?"

You glanced at the sleek cart between his fingers, then at the hallway.

"Even though my roommates aren't here, they're still strict about smoking in shared spaces." You said. "No vape, no carts— none of it."

He blinked, pausing. "Damn. I can go if—"

"No." You interrupted, standing. "We can go to my room."

His eyebrows arched in interest as he rose to follow.

Your room was dim and cozy, washed in soft fairy lights. You pushed the door closed behind him and leaned against it for a moment before crossing to the bed.

"This is cute." He said, looking around. "You always have a vibe."

"Try not to ruin it." You said, climbing onto the bed and settling into the pillows. He leaned against your desk, then raised the cart again and took a slow pull, the scent hitting your nose.

"You want?" He asked.

You rose from the bed, stepping toward him and plucked it from his fingers without breaking eye contact.

His brows lifted. "Woah."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't be selfish now."

He smirked, but his voice dropped just slightly as he teased, "What if it's laced?"

"Not funny." You said.

He held his hands up, surrendering, though his grin said he enjoyed every second.

You took a slow puff and handed it back.

"That's all I'm doing." You murmured.

But that wasn't true.

Time slipped, the air thickened, you kept passing it back and forth, voices growing lower, laughter softening.

At some point, you looked up and noticed he was still standing.

"You've been standing there whole time." You said, eyes a little glassy, lashes fluttering as you sat up straighter.

"Yeah, I know. Why?" He asked, inching closer.

"Just curious why you don't want to be near me." You said with a teasing shrug.

He stepped in front of you now, close enough that you could see the shift in his expression. "I'm near." He murmured.

"Not close enough." Your voice was soft but firm as you reached out, trailing your hands up his arm and guiding it onto your shoulder.

His fingers stayed, curling gently over your skin. His gaze dropped to your lips, then flicked back up.

"Don't look at me like that." He said, eyes low. 

"Like what?" You asked, guiding his arm again until his hand cupped your jaw.

"Like you want me to ruin the night."

His hand lingered against your cheek, the warmth of his palm spreading through your skin. Your breath hitched, fingers curling softly around his wrist.

You tugged him closer, his face now just inches from yours as he leaned over you, one hand settling on your thigh. "Maybe I do."

He closed the distance between you instantly, his lips crashing against yours with desperately. The hand that had been gently cupping your cheek slid to the back of your neck, fingers curling as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

Your hands found the hem of his shirt, gripping it tightly as you tugged, urging him to shed the barrier between you. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. His sweats hung low on his hips, revealing the sharp lines of his v-line.

He climbed fully onto the bed, hovering over you, claiming your lips in a heated, breathless kiss. His hands moved, tugging your shirt and pajama shorts off in one swift motion, never once breaking eye contact, the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss— wet and messy. As his mouth moved against yours, he nudged your legs apart with his own, his knee slipping between them, pressing softly against your heat.

His lips left yours only to travel down your neck, trailing gentle kisses that quickly turned rougher. He latched onto a sensitive spot just below your jaw, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. The sensation paired with the slow pressure of his knee drew soft moans from your lips. Your fingers found his hair, tangling in it as your hips shifted unconsciously in response.

"I don't have a condom." He murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You were just about to leave it, but Jaemin's voice sounded in your head: "Don't let him fuck you raw." 

Without thinking, you reached over to your nightstand, fingers finding the familiar shape of a silver foil square that you got a few weeks back. You pressed it to his chest, your eyes meeting his.

He paused, a slow amused smile spreading across his lips. A soft chuckle escaped him. "Smart." He said under his breath.

He rose to his feet, pushing his sweats and boxers down in one fluid motion. Tearing the foil open with his teeth, discarding the wrapper carelessly onto the floor, then rolled the condom on with ease, his eyes never straying far from you.

He grabbed your legs with firm hands, dragging you to the edge of the bed, his gaze locked onto yours intensely. Without a word, he hooked his fingers into your underwear and yanked them down, leaving you bare beneath him.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. His mouth moved over yours, but as you pulled back your eyes shimmered.

"I haven't— this is my first time." You admitted, voice barely above a whisper, breathless and shaking.

For a moment everything stilled. His expression shifted, something flickering behind his eyes— part surprise, part fascination. 

"I'll try to be gentle." He said softly, his voice low and tight with restraint.

He stood, hands skimming down the length of your legs until they reached beneath your knees. He lifted them slowly, spreading you open softly.

He positioned himself between your legs, his body tense. He paused, eyes locked on yours for a moment, as if waiting for any sign of hesitation.

Then he pushed into you. The sting was sharp, and you gasped, your breath catching. He froze for a second, his forehead pressing lightly against yours.

"Breathe." He whispered, his voice rough. He gave you a moment, just enough to adjust before he asked, "Ok?"

You nodded, too breathless to say anything, but when you didn't pull away he pushed further, the pace picking up as he moved into you again, harder and deeper this time.

He gripped your legs tightly, forcing you open as he thrusted into you, his movements rougher now, more desperate. The initial sting quickly faded into a pulsing heat that had you gasping with every thrust, each push a little harder than the last.

"You feel so fucking good." He muttered, voice thick with desire. His hands tightened on your legs, and he slammed into you with more urgency, his pace picking up, rougher and less controlled. The air was thick with the sound of skin meeting skin, the room vibrating.

The tension in your body kept building, the pleasure mixing with the intensity of each thrust. His breath was uneven and shallow as he moved faster, harder, his grip tightening. There was no slowing down now.

"Fuck." He groaned, his movements becoming more erratic, less restrained. "So fucking perfect."

The care he showed earlier was gone. His pace didn't slow, only grew faster, more frantic. Each thrust hit deeper, more forceful, and you could feel every inch of him filling you completely. You clung to him, nails digging into his skin as he fucked into you without restraint.

The sounds of your bodies crashing together filled the air, a mix of moans, heavy breathing, and the wet, slick noise of each push. He didn't give you time to adjust, didn't pause to check in again. He just kept going, his grip tightening on your legs, forcing them open even wider as he moved harder.

The pleasure was building, overwhelming you, the pressure mounting with every thrust. Your body felt like it was on fire, heat pooling low in your stomach as his thrusts drove you closer to the edge.

"You like that, huh?" He groaned, his voice rough. His eyes flickered down to where you were joined, watching how he moved inside you. "You're so fucking tight."

You couldn't form words anymore, only moans escaping your lips as your hips instinctively moved against him, meeting each thrust, urging him deeper. Every motion felt like a jolt of electricity running through you, tightening your core, making everything spin.

His hand slid down from your legs, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, driving into you with more force. The friction built, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"God, I'm gonna make you cum." He grunted, his own pace stammering just slightly as his own release neared. "Hold on."

His hips snapped into yours recklessly, his movements growing more urgent. His grip on your waist tightened as he pounded into you, each thrust harder than the last, the sound of your skin meeting his filling the room.

"You feel fucking amazing." He whimpered, his voice strained, the force of his movements making your whole body shake beneath him.

He cursed under his breath as your nails scraped down his back, and with one last, brutal thrust, you felt everything snap—your body tensing, your legs trembling as the pressure exploded inside you. A loud, breathless moan escaped your lips as your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body convulsing around him.

He didn't stop though, didn't give you a second to breathe. His thrusts only grew more erratic, chasing his own release as you clenched around him, each movement pushing him closer to the edge.

"Fuck, yes." He groaned, his eyes locked onto yours as he slammed into you again. 

"I'm there..." He buried his face into your neck, movements sloppy as he finally came, his body shaking as he released with a low groan.

He collapsed against you, his body still trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment neither of you moved, lying there tangled together, trying to catch your breath. His head rested on your shoulder, his chest rising and falling against yours. The tension in his muscles slowly started to melt away, and you felt the steady rhythm of his heart begin to slow.

He shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze softer now. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, brushing away a strand of hair.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, unable to find the words just yet. He gave a small smile. "I didn't mean to... push too hard."

You shook your head, pressing your palm to his chest. "It was... good." You whispered, your voice still shaky, but calm now.

"Good." He murmured again.

══════════════════════════

The day after – 1:18 PM

You woke up to loud, insistent banging on your door.

You blinked your eyes open, lashes heavy with sleep, your body sore and aching in ways that immediately brought back hazy memories of the night before. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, and the screen lit up— four unread messages, all from Jaemin.

Jaemin [12:38 PM]:

"u want chicken tenders or a burger?"

Jaemin [12:44 PM]: 

"Hello? I need u to hurry I'm in line."

Jaemin [12:57 PM]:

"Just got chicken tenders u took too long, otw."

Jaemin [1:17 PM]:

"Dude, open the door wtf?"

Your stomach dropped... shit.

It was Sunday, your Sunday. Movies and lunch with Jaemin, your thing since middle school, the one routine neither of you ever skipped and was always on time for.

You sat up too quickly and instantly regretted it. A sharp pulse radiated through your thighs, your knees folded slightly beneath you as you stood. You hissed through your teeth, muttering a quiet curse. The soreness, the silence in the room, the disheveled sheets tangled behind you and...

No Haechan, not a trace.

You probably weren't going to hear from him again. If anything, he'd gotten exactly what he wanted and maybe... so had you.

You slipped into the first pair of underwear you could find, pulling on an oversized t-shirt and not even checking the mirror. You couldn't be bothered. Your body felt heavier than usual, limbs slow, mind foggy.

You stumbled to the door, fingers fumbling over the lock before it clicked open. Jaemin stood there with a takeout bag in one hand and annoyance on his face. "Where the fuck—" He froze. 

His expression shifted fast, first frustration then concern as his eyes scanned your face, your hair, the obvious haze of sleep in your eyes. "Are you okay?"

You nodded once, voice scratchy. "Yeah. Just... come in."

You turned around, not realizing how stiffly you were walking until you heard his voice again behind you.

"You're walking weird."

You glanced over your shoulder, trying to play it off. "I just woke up, Jaem."

But his brows drew together, and he followed you with quiet suspicion. He spun once in your desk chair before planting his feet and letting his eyes roam, and stopped.

You didn't notice at first, but his gaze lingered just a little too long on your neck.

"Those weren't there last time I saw you." He said. 

You forced a small laugh, brushing your hair back casually. "What, you keeping track now?"

"It's hard not to when it looks like someone marked you up like a vampire." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

You turned away, cheeks flushing, but you stayed silent.

He held up the takeout bag. "I got you food, don't know if you saw my text."

"I didn't." You said, hovering at the edge of your bed. "But thanks, I'm starving."

He smiled for real this time, but just as he reached to hand you the bag something on the floor caught his attention.

His hand froze mid air. He bent slightly, reaching down beside your nightstand. A second later, you watched his fingers close around a small, crinkled square of foil.

An empty condom wrapper.

He stared at it, his jaw twitching once before he tossed it into the trash without another word.

The air in the room changed instantly. You stood still, frozen as he looked at you.

You tried to lighten the mood, your voice forced. "The one you gave me, remember?"

But he didn't smile, didn't even blink. His voice dropped, almost too calm. "Did you...?"

You hesitated, then sighed. "Yeah. Last night."

He blinked once, and then again. He opened his mouth, but for a second, no sound came out. "Thought you were saving yourself."

You gave a slight shrug, arms folding across your chest. "Guess I changed my mind."

Another moment of silence. He tilted his head slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips now, confused. "Who was the lucky guy?"

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip.

His eyes narrowed before he scoffed. "I know that face... no way."

Still, you said nothing.

He let out a short, stunned laugh, humorless. "No fucking way." Jaemin stood up, the desk chair creaking loudly behind him.

You met his gaze, heart thudding. "Jaem—"

"You let him?" His voice rose, disbelief mixed with something else— hurt, maybe. "Out of all people, him? Seriously? What, he texted you 'come over' and you just—fucking hell Y/n."

"It wasn't like that." You murmured.

"You ghost me for hours, you never miss our Sundays. I show up and you're sore and covered in hickeys—"

"I was asleep, Jaemin."

He scoffed. "Name one time you've ever slept past noon this year?"

You stayed silent.

"Exactly."

"I didn't plan for it to happen." You said quietly.

"That's the problem... he did!" He snapped. "I didn't think you were so easy. What, he called you pretty and that's enough for you to spread your legs?"

"No, I—"

"What, you've known this guy for like a month? You knew he just wanted to use you and you went along with it?"

"I was okay with that! That's what I wanted."

"You were okay being used for sex by some guy you barely even know?"

"No, not like that—"

"So then what? Because to me, it sounds like you're just a desperate slut."

You blinked. That word hit harder than you expected.

"Oh, I'm a slut?" Your voice was sharp now. "One body and I'm a slut, yet you dance around fucking anything with a pulse. You're disgusting... and easy."

"I'm disgusting and easy?" He snapped. "You let a senior fuckboy you don't even know take your virginity. It's actually sickening."

You stepped toward him, jaw clenched. "Would it have been sickening if it was you?"

Silence. His face froze, jaw locked as his eyes flickered, and he didn't say a word.

You let out a breath. "If you're so disgusted, then leave. First of all, it's none of your business who I sleep with— I don't stick my nose into yours. You've fucked girls I can't stand, and I never made it everyone's problem."

Your voice rose now. "You're my best friend— not my parent, not my boyfriend, and definitely not my mentor. So if you came here to judge me on every move I make, then you can go fuck yourself."

"Excuse me for being the only one that fucking cares about you."

You opened your mouth, but he was already tossing the takeout bag onto your bed with more force than necessary.

"Here." He muttered. "Since he couldn't even feed you."

Then he turned and the door slammed behind him.

The silence that followed felt like a vacuum, like the air had been sucked out of the room the moment the door slammed shut.

You stood there, unmoving, arms still crossed tightly around yourself. Your chest rose and fell a little too fast, like your body hadn't caught up to your brain yet.

"Desperate slut."

You could still hear it. Loud in the quiet and it hurt. God, it fucking hurt.

You sank down slowly to the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the takeout bag he'd thrown toward you. You let out a shaky breath and dropped your head into your hands.

He'd looked so angry, so betrayed, like you done something personally to him. But he wasn't your boyfriend, he never was, he never wanted to be.

So why did he get to act like this? Why did it feel like you were the one who done something wrong? You hadn't expected Haechan to stay. You hadn't expected Jaemin to explode and yet here you were, alone.

He was supposed to be your best friend.

But best friends didn't call you disgusting. Best friends didn't throw insults in your face and storm out. Best friends didn't look at you like you were less for doing something you had every right to do.

You didn't even realize you were crying until the tears hit your thighs. Silent, hot, and angry.

You swiped at them roughly, jaw tightening.

He didn't get to reduce you like that. He didn't get to decide what your choices meant, and he definitely didn't get to pretend like he was some kind of savior when all he'd ever done was hover just close enough to make you want more and then pull away every time you reached.

Some part of you still wanted him to come back. Still wanted him to knock again, to take it all back and say he was sorry.

But another part of you was done waiting on Jaemin to treat you like you mattered only when it was convenient for him. Because you didn't regret what happened.

Not the choice, not the experience, not even the consequences.

You only regretted giving someone like Jaemin the power to make you feel small.

══════════════════════════

[writingsforfandoms-multi]

the ring | michael robinavitch x nurse!reader

summary: after getting married, the first day back at work is a little harder than you expected it to be 

warnings: this got nastier (smuttier) than expected my bad

You didn’t think a ring would affect you so much. 

Michael, cocky motherfucker, knew what he was doing. He was teasing you all day. 

It started in the morning, this was going to be your first shift back together after getting married. You both wore your rubber bands to work and kept your actual rings on a necklace, and something about robby wearing a chain with his wedding band just did something to you. Before you left the house this morning, you had pulled him by the chain and crashed his lips to yours. 

During your honeymoon, you had been insatiable. Of course you have always been attracted to michael, but there was something about him being your husband that just made him so much more attractive. 

���Fuck, honey we need to leave now or else we’re not leaving” he says, breathing heavy

“Michael I don’t know how I’m gonna survive the day” you groaned

“I know, me too” he takes a deep breath. During your honeymoon, he was as insatiable as you, if not more. 

“Just 12 hours” you say, even though you know it was never just a 12 hour shift

“Just 12 hours” he agrees, knowing it's gonna be longer than just a 12 hour shift 

But fuck 12 hours you could barely make it to hour 4 before you and michael took a little break in the supply closet 

You barely had time to close the door before michael spun you around and grabbed your face with his hands and crashed his lips against yours, all teeth and tongue and urgency. His hand traces down your face to your throat before his hands cup your ass and he lifts you up against the door. His hips thrusting against yours looking for any sort of friction, “fuck the rule we have, it was stupid anyway” he says as he pulls your scrub top down to expose your breast and he trails kisses down your throat to the top of them.  

You laugh as you lean your head back against the door, “we set the rule when we started dating for a reason babe” you remind him, “we haven’t broken it in three years let’s not start now” you said, referring to the rule you made to yourselves that you wouldn't have sex where you work.

He groans against your chest, “you’re right, we’ve been doing so good” as much as he wanted to fuck you in this supply closet right now, how needy he was for you, he reminded himself of why you made the rule in the first place. 

He takes a minute before he sets you back on the floor and he takes a few steps back and you notice the very obvious bulge outlined by his pants. You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He looks at you with a pained expression on his face, “I love you honey, but you’re looking at me like you want to devour it, which is definitely not helping my little situation right here” he gestures to his problem 

“Little?” you scoff under your breath and he laughs. “Okay fine, I’ll leave, only because you read my mind” you wink and turn to leave the supply room

The next time you interacted was when you had three hours left in your shift. He had cornered you by one of the staircases, away from any prying eyes. 

“You’ve been giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes for the past five hours” he accuses 

“You keep playing with your ring when you're at the desk” you narrow your eyes

He looks into your eyes for a moment before he breaks into a smile, “I keep remembering our wedding day” his eyes softening, reminiscing, “best day of my life” he adds 

You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, “mine too” you give him a quick peck on the lips then say quietly in his ear, “three more hours then I’m all yours” and you pull away and exit back out to the floor before he can react. 

The next three hours flew by, filled with lingering looks and even more lingering touches. By the time night shift got there and you gave report, you and robby couldn't get to his car fast enough. 

“Robby, drive now” you say as you quickly throw your stuff in the back, anticipation running rampant through you

“Thank god we live so close” he mutters under his breath, glancing at you in time to see you clench your thighs, his jaw tightening 

You make it to your house in record time and barely make it through the door before he’s slamming you against it. Your hands went to his cheeks but he grabs them and pins them against the door, making you moan into his mouth. 

He breaks away to strip you of your clothes before his lips are back on yours, “now, this isn't really fair Mr. Robinavitch, you still have all your clothes on” you pout 

“You’re awfully needy today, Mrs. Robinavitch” he says as he takes off his shirt and goes to take off his pants but you beat him to it, already on your knees and before he even has time to process what was happening, you took him in your mouth. 

He groans and places one hand on the front door, the other coming to the back of your head. “Fuck honey” he says as you pull him out with a pop. 

“I’ve been needy for you all day, michael” you whine before you take him back in your mouth. 

Michael pulls out of your mouth by pulling on your hair, “I want to come inside you, honey” he breathes heavy and takes you in his arms and quickly leads you to the couch. 

He sits down and brings you to his lap where you slowly slide down onto him with a moan, feeling the slight stretch. He gives you a moment to adjust before you start moving your hips, his hand with the wedding ring coming up to your throat, “I love being married to you” he groans. 

You were in such bliss you couldn’t even formulate a response. His hand trails down from your throat, down to your breast before he suddenly grabs your hips and makes you ride him faster. You crash your lips against his and moan into his mouth, “harder please” 

He thrusts up into you, “you take me so well” he pulls you forward on his chest, your arms coming around on either side of him to hold on to the edge of the couch, his hands coming to your ass to use as leverage to bring you down harder on his cock. 

“Fuck michael” you moan, putting your face into his neck

He could tell you were getting close by the way you were clenching around him, “I know baby” he grunts as he grabs your ass tighter, chasing his orgasm after he makes you finish.

You stay against his chest, still on his cock, taking a moment to catch your breath before you pull back and look at him, “I love being married to you too” you smile and you place a sweet kiss on his lips before he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you back against his chest 

“I love you” he sighs, placing a gentle kiss on your head, as he wishes you both could have stayed in your little honeymoon just bit longer 

– 

a/n: the restraint I needed to not use a daddy kink (I was so very tempted)

the pitt masterlist

[alive-gh0st]

❝Always You❞

Mark Grayson x Childhood Friend!Reader ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

-ˋˏ❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀ˎˊ-

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

❀ summary: you showed up uninvited, made his dad question all his life (and facial hair) choices, and never left. now you’re older, hotter, still annoying—and mark? very much in love. congrats.

❀ contains: sfw. childhood friends to lovers. slow-burn vibes. emotionally repressed!reader. soft!mark. reader has a difficult home life. light trauma but make it casual. fluff, banter and comedic tension. mark grayson being stupid-in-love.

❀ wc: 1899

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a/n: first time posting just to feed y’all some mark grayson fluff.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You don’t remember exactly how you ended up in the Graysons’ house that first day.

You’d only just moved in next door, and your mom was already yelling about boxes. The man she was with—this week’s guy—smelled like beer, sweat, and no patience.

So you left.

Well… not really, but something along those lines.

You wandered down the sidewalk barefoot, dragging your backpack behind you, until you spotted a house that looked safe. Lived-in. Rich. You rang the doorbell like it owed you something.

Debbie Grayson opened the door, took one look at your face, and smiled. “Hi there, sweetheart. You okay?”

You didn’t answer. Just walked right past her like you belonged there.

Mark was on the floor with a comic book. He looked up, mouth half-open.

You pointed at his dad. “Is that mustache glued on, or is it a punishment?”

Nolan nearly dropped his coffee. Debbie choked on a laugh. Mark blinked, unsure whether to be offended or amazed.

You were five.

By the end of the day, you were sitting cross-legged on their carpet, eating cookies like you’d always been there. You told Nolan he “sounded like a guy on TV,” which earned another chuckle from Debbie and a long sigh from the man.

By the end of the week, you were staying over so often Debbie started keeping a toothbrush for you.

By the end of the month, you were helping Mark build Lego towers in his room—then immediately yelling at Nolan for knocking them over “on purpose.”

(He did. He 100% did. Nolan Grayson, Earth’s strongest man, had personal beef with a five-year-old and no shame about it.)

And before long, Mark couldn’t remember a life where you weren’t in it.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Being around you was chaos wrapped in kindness.

You’d stick your tongue out at Mark and Nolan the second Debbie turned her back, then curl into her side during movie nights like you were her own kid.

You terrified Nolan with the things you said—adult questions in a child’s voice, bold and unfiltered. Like asking, “If you flew into space too fast, would your brain explode?” Or, more memorably: “Do aliens poop?”

“Enough,” Nolan muttered one night after your fifth question. “You’re worse than a Pentagon interrogation.”

“But I’m cuter,” you argued, and Debbie nodded like that settled the matter.

You were nine when you figured out Omni-Man’s identity.

You’d been watching the news over cereal, Mark beside you, both in matching Grayson hand-me-downs.

With squinted eyes at the screen, you groaned in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s your dad’s disguise? I can recognize that ugly mustache from space.”

Mark froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Wait, what?”

“Dude, it’s so obvious.”

You didn’t even flinch when Nolan walked in seconds later, fully suited up but holding his slippers like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Morning,” you said sweetly. “Nice cape.”

Nolan grunted and turned on the coffee maker without a comment.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Debbie adored you. Nolan, surprisingly, respected you—maybe because you always challenged him without fear. And Mark? Mark had someone who understood him without even trying.

Your home life, though, was never something you talked about.

It wasn’t bad, not technically, but it didn’t feel like a home. The yelling never stopped. The guys came and went. You learned early not to ask questions, and that silence was safer.

So you stopped asking.

But one night—when you were eleven—you showed up at Mark’s window with bruises on your arms and dirt on your knees. You didn’t say anything. Just climbed inside and curled up next to him on the bed.

He didn’t say anything either.

He just pulled the blanket over you and let you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

After that, the Graysons stopped asking if you were coming over. It was just assumed.

That’s how it always was.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

By middle school, the two of you were inseparable. You walked to class together, bickered over who got to name the group projects, and ganged up on anyone who tried to mess with either of you.

One day, in the cafeteria, some eighth grader bumped into you hard enough to knock your tray.

“Watch it,” he sneered, clearly expecting you to back off.

You looked him dead in the eyes while tilting your head innocently. “Try that again and I’ll make sure you’re crapping Jell-O for a week.”

The kid blinked.

Mark stepped in beside you. “She means that in a… non-lethal way.”

“Do I?” you asked.

Mark turned to you, deadpan. “Can you not threaten to rearrange someone’s insides with pudding in front of the lunch monitors?”

You gave him a shrug. “No promises.”

People thought you’d grow apart in high school. That Mark would change. That you would change.

But you never gave him the chance to drift. You clung—stubbornly, fiercely—like you knew if you let go, something in you would unravel. And Mark never wanted to be anywhere else anyway.

High school didn’t change you much. If anything, you just got bolder.

Mark got taller. You got sharper. People asked if you were dating. You both said no.

But neither of you looked too convinced when you did.

You still wore his hoodies. He still shared his fries with you without asking. You stole his blankets. He carried an extra charger in his bag just in case you forgot yours.

He never forgot your birthday. You never missed a single one of his baseball games.

It wasn’t just friendship. Not really.

Not with the way you rolled your eyes at affection from anyone else but melted instantly when Mark laid his head on your shoulder.

Not when you’d fight with him one minute and be curled up against him the next, hoodie sleeves too long, fingers grazing his under the blanket.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Mark watched you far more than he should’ve.

He noticed the way your laugh cracked just a little when you were too tired.

The way you hugged too hard, like you were making sure someone stayed.

The way you’d stand between him and anyone who dared to mouth off—like you were the one with superpowers.

He didn’t need to know the exact moment he fell in love with you. For him—it was always there, he just hadn’t been smart enough to understand.

Maybe it was that one day when you were watching cartoons on the floor, and Mark was pretending not to stare at you. You turned to him, grinning, and said something dumb like, “You’d probably get beat up in a real fight.”

But your eyes were soft.

He smiled back, and thought, God, it’s always been you.

But he never told you. Not really.

Because every time he almost did, you’d turn away. Or laugh. Or call him something close enough to a slur and throw popcorn at his face.

Maybe that was your armor. Or maybe it was his fear.

Either way, the words never made it out.

So he held onto them in silence. Carried them like bruises from a fight—but these ones never quite healed. Let them bleed out slowly over the years through lingering glances, soft touches, and unspoken understanding.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You were sixteen when he nearly told you.

It was late. You’d been watching horror movies with you curled up against him, almost half-asleep.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Mm?”

“You know I—I really—uh, care about you, right?”

You cracked one eye open. “Mark, if this is your weird way of trying to tell me you love me, just do it.”

His breath hitched.

You snorted. “Relax. You’re too chicken to actually say it.”

“Am not.”

”Then say it.”

He paused.

You reached over, poked his cheek, and mumbled, “Didn’t think so.”

And then you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of how badly his heart was racing.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Even now, sitting in his room, you’re stretched across his bed with a random comic forgotten beside you, legs tangled in his blanket like you own the place.

(Because you kind of do—not that he’d give you the satisfaction of knowing that.)

Mark watches you from his desk chair, ’Seance Dog’ comic in hand, but he’s not reading a word.

“You’re staring again,” you mutter from his bed, cheek half-squished against his pillow, voice muffled and judgmental.

“I am not,” Mark lies—incredibly unconvincingly.

You glance over with one brow raised. “You always stare when you’re thinking something gross.”

“It’s not gross!”

“So it is something.”

“…Maybe.”

You sit up, stretching your arms overhead with a dramatic yawn. “If you’re about to tell me you’ve been in love with me since we were, like, eight, just say it. Don’t do the weird broody stare like you’re in some CW drama.”

Mark blinks. “I mean… okay, not since eight. But maybe since… twelve?”

You blink at him.

Then before he can overthink like always—you let out a long, theatrical sigh and flop back dramatically again. “Ugh. Finally.”

Mark startles. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” You shoot him a lopsided grin. “Do you know how annoying it is being the only one aware of the mutual pining in this room? I’ve been carrying this ship on my BACK.”

Mark’s mouth opens. Closes. “Wait—you like me?”

“I’m literally lying in your bed, wearing your hoodie, and insulting you in front of your anime figurines. What do you think?”

“…Okay, that’s fair.”

You pause. Then smirk. “So… now what?”

Mark thinks for a second, then shrugs. “I mean, I could kiss you, but I’m 99% sure you’d just roast me for it.”

You hum. “Depends. Are you going to do that thing where you hesitate awkwardly and make a weird-ass face?”

Mark throws a pillow at you.

You cackle, catching it midair. “I’m kidding, dumbass. Come here.”

And when he does—grinning like a total idiot, heart thudding like he’s about to leap off a building for the first time—you tug him forward by the collar of his hoodie and kiss him first.

It’s warm, a little clumsy, way too long overdue.

And when you pull back, breathless and smug, grinning against his mouth—whispering, “Took you long enough, Grayson.”

Mark laughs, his cheeks tinted pink.

His fingers are still in your hair.

And for the first time in years, his heart feels lighter than air.

Because he’s always been watching you.

But now, finally—you’re looking back at him the same way.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

-ˋˏ❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀ˎˊ-

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Later, as you both lay tangled in blankets and shared warmth, Mark breaks the silence.

“…Do you think my dad knew?”

The question lingers in the air, and your mind drifts back to the old days—the easier ones—before your eyes open.

You blink up at the ceiling. “That you’re in love with me? Yeah. He always knew.”

Mark groans. “Debbie probably has a betting pool going.”

“She does,” you say without hesitation. “Amber’s in on it too. I think William’s the bookie.”

Mark gapes at you. “Are you serious?”

You grin, smug. “Dead serious. I’m pretty sure I just made someone twenty bucks.”

Mark buries his face in the pillow. “God.”

Patting his back, mock-comfortingly, you snort under your breath. “Don’t worry. You’re still the last one to find out.”

“…That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

And somewhere in the house, Debbie smiles to herself in the kitchen, sipping her wine like she didn’t just win her own bet.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌With Love, @alive-gh0st

[rhyrhy]

Something Like Sin

Older!Farmhand! Abby x perv!farmers daughter R

CONTAINS: rough draft for a fic idea I had. MDNI. Religious guilt, impure thoughts, short.

She does it on purpose. You swear she does.

The lift of her shirt to swipe sweat from her forehead. Being sure you’re in her line of sight while she works. The small touches when passing by.

How could one woman weaken your resolve so much?

How, after a long day of doing nothing but giving your wet dreams more fuel, could she step into the main house and “report back”?

Listing everything she took care of—

That wobbly fence your belt loop always seemed to catch on. The left tire on your daddy’s truck that made that god-awful squeak when started in the early morning.

Everything but the small flicker of amusement she’d get when she caught your stare—or even just felt it.

The grumbling of your father’s “Sounds good, thanks again, Abbigail,” seeming more frequent than before.

Didn’t she fix that fence last week?

The only relief was writing it out.

The dark green journal that stayed tucked in the back pocket of worn jeans. Pages of thoughts, frustrations, fantasies.

And hidden in the back pages— Not passwords to the Wi-Fi, or the lockbox— Your feelings. The real ones. About her. Starting innocently from last summer, when she filled in for her father.

Jerry did honest work. Only lived a few roads down—he was the first person you called when things went belly-up. But he’s older now. Knees don’t work as well. So naturally, she came.

Quiet. Worked quickly. Efficient. Good hands are always welcome on the hundreds of acres your family owned.

Months of torture.

Farmhands came and went—but not her. She—Abbigail—always came back.

In your dreams.

And in the back pages of that journal.

June 5th, 2025

“She said she liked the top I was wearing last night. The one I swore I’d never wear again because of how tight it felt across my chest. But her eyes—they lingered. Just for a second. Long enough to make me feel bare. I didn’t sleep after that.”

God, you prayed she never read that one. But what was a girl like you calling on Him for? Impurities like that didn’t deserve His protection.

Sinners only thrive when hidden in the comfort of shadows.

When the sun greets the sky, the mask takes its place— In the form of the farmer’s daughter.

She made supper every evening, brought water to those helping hands, leaned into her daddy’s kisses on the forehead.

So busy being the golden girl, you—so worn—you didn’t notice that your back pocket was empty as you entered the house. Sleeping peacefully in your mattress. Farm dog Gracie barking occasionally when cars passed in the distance.

All while the green spine cracked open—

By fingers that didn’t hold the pen that stained the pages. With an ease, nothing rushed—like it had been done millions of times.

The pages flipped until their heart’s content.

Those same eyes watched you the next morning, messy hair falling as you lifted from your bed. In full view of the bay window warming the room.

The new day dances around you. Smiles and “you’re welcome”s, as usual. Until a voice sent panic striking through you like lightning.

“Not doodling in those pages of yours this mornin’?” your father said as you reached the bottom of the stairs, still slightly sleep-ridden.

No caffeine could wake someone faster. Your hand flew to your pockets. Eyes widening as the words stuck in your throat.

Where is it? Why didn’t I double-check last night? Did someone else find it? Your mind raced.

“Oh sweetheart, relax—you probably left it in your room,” your mother called out from the kitchen

Before they could say another word, the screen door flew open. Your boots crunched the gravel, bolting for the barn. You’d been there last night, writing to your heart’s content. Dreams of the future. Leaving the fields behind one day. Sending postcards to Momma with different cities attached.

But those weren’t the ones you were worried about.

A heaving chest and shaky fingers reached for the rusted latch. Greeted by moos, and Gracie sleeping near the ladder. Eyes searched the wooden floors, hands and knees warming as you looked.

And looked.

Where the hell is it? The furrow in your eyebrow deepened as did the pit in your stomach.

“You alright?” a voice called out a few feet away.

Your body jerked, a small gasp leaving you. Not expecting anyone else to be here. So early anyhow. Slowly lifting your head, trailing up the woman who almost seemed to have appeared.

Heavy boots, dark-washed jeans. That thick brown belt, silver buckle. A white beater lifted just enough to see that blonde happy trail that made your thighs squeeze together.

“Jesus, you scared me—yeah, I’m alright.”

You glanced to the woman with a quirked eyebrow at your position. Realizing how ridiculous you must’ve looked, you pushed to your feet. Hands dusting off your knees.

“Good morning, Ms. Anderson.” You stood slightly awkwardly, with a small head nod.

“I always tell you that just Abby is fine.” She smiled. “But good mornin’” The silence stretched out. Abby cleared her throat and spoke once more. “What are you looking for… in here?”

“Nothing, I just… thought I lost something in here. And now that I’ve checked… I’ll be on my way.” You gave a small smile, shifting to turn on your heels. Unable to hold that eye contact any longer.

“You sure?” “Because I found this—“ short fingers grazed something as she turned, reaching behind her. “on the floor.”

There it was. Thank God. Maybe He was listening.

“Oh! Thank you—little squirrel brain of mine sometimes.” A joke you forced out.

She huffed at the attempt and hummed “Don’t mention it.”

Your fingers brushed as you went to take it from her. Your heart rammed against your ribs. Pausing when she lifted it again slightly like she’d changed her mind. Eyes flickered to her face, meeting hers. Your hand now left with nothing as she teased it backwards. Only you heard her say—

“The way she moves—like she knows time will wait for her.” You froze. Your breath caught. Abby only tilted her head “That’s pretty, y’know? Like poetry.”

Oh, how sweet, you thought. Yet, Your heart pounded louder. How far did she read?

“Thank you…It’s nothing really. Just something I do when I’m bored.” You barely managed the words. They sounded distant, hollow in your mouth—like they belonged to someone else. Your hand closed around the journal like a secret you couldn’t bury fast enough. And then you turned. Quick. Too quick. Boots scraping against the barn floor. already vowing to be more careful next time.

That was a close one. Just leave, get this book of sin from her. Wanting to throw lighter fluid on it even. However, before you could make your escape she continued, the words burning in the light—

“Her eyes lingered. Just for a second. Long enough to make me feel bare.” Then with a small chuckle “That’s the line, ain’t it?”

Her silky voice cut through the air behind you, amusement wrapped around every word. You stopped cold. Turned slowly. “Didn’t sleep after that, huh?”

“What—what did you—” you stammered. “Oh lord—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to read—”

She cut you off with a soft laugh, stepping closer. “It’s alright, really”

“That’s a filthy little thought for a girl who says good morning like a church bell.” Her eyes flicked to the journal still clutched in your guilty hands.

“What else keeps you up at night, sweetheart?”

[itneverendshere]

in the alley, in the back, in the center of this room - r.c (+18)

pairing: kelce's sister x hockey!rafe warnings: smut

You hadn’t seen Rafe in a week. 

Seven whole days without him hovering over you, being annoying, or sneaking his hands under your shirt when no one was looking.

You sexted, of course, sent a few pictures. Okay, more than a few, but it wasn’t the same. You could tell he was getting frustrated, too, hitting you with the “wish I was there” and “gonna make you pay for that when I see you” texts.

You missed him. Ugh, you hated that you missed him. You weren’t supposed to—Rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, but you were spoiled, used to having him whenever you wanted.

You found out the hard way that he was back, sitting in the library, drowning in microeconomic equilibrium theory you didn’t understand, when someone suddenly gripped the back of your chair, leaning so close that you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Missed me, princess?”

Your hand flew to your chest. 

“What the fuck?!” You whispered-yell, glaring up while he grinned.

He reached out to tug on a curl like he had the right to. Your first instinct was to slap his hand away, you hated when people touched your hair without permission, it made your skin crawl, made you want to ask who the hell raised you?

Rafe however...He always did it like it was just something he got to do. Your body let him. No flinching, side-eye, or glare—just the sharp inhale you tried to hide and the way your lashes fluttered before you could stop them.

Shit.

You liked when he did it.

His hair was still damp from a shower, curling at the ends. His eyes flicked over your face, and you wondered if he could tell you were staring. The last time you saw him, he was between your thighs, mouthing at you like he was getting paid to. That was his send-off, his “see you later” gift, and the way he looked at you then had been haunting you all fucking week. 

“Aw, did I scare you?” Rafe slid into the chair next to yours. “Whatcha doing?”

You gestured at your laptop, your notebook, the complete disaster that was your study space. “Dying.”

He dragged your notebook toward him, ignoring your protests as his eyes scanned the mess of numbers and half-baked notes. “You’re doing it wrong.”

You exhaled, frustrated. “No shit.”

He pulled his chair closer—so close your knees knocked together.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?”

You rolled your eyes, deadpaned. “Too busy staring at your dick pics, sorry.”

Rafe’s grin stretched wider, “Yeah? Got you that distracted?”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, flipping a page in your notebook. You did spend the entire week in a foul mood, throwing an internal tantrum about not getting laid whenever you wanted, completely forgetting you even had a quiz coming up until the last second. You’d spent more time thinking about him than you’d ever admit, rereading his texts like a loser

That wasn’t like you. 

“Pay attention,” He jokingly scolded, tapping the page with his pen as he caught you ogling him like some desperate, touch-starved idiot.

Your brain wasn’t cooperating, but in your defense, you’d been thinking about that night before he left. He started writing. Fast, neat, too efficient for someone who spent most of his time being a brute on the ice. That was almost worse than the teasing. 

You knew Rafe was smart, but seeing it up close? Watching him put your mess of half-assed equations into something that made sense? It was so hard to listen when he was right there, warm, smelling so good. He explained things easily, it almost sounded like this shit wasn’t complete gibberish. 

That did things to you.

Your legs pressed together under the table, mortified at yourself. Because, wow, this was bad. You were so weak, this was a new low.

Blah, blah, supply and demand, blah, blah, equilibrium. You tilted your head, watching the way his lips moved, the crease in his brows when he was focused. You must’ve been staring for a good while, because he turned, catching you mid-fantasy, bottom lip stuck between your teeth. 

Rafe’s lips twitched, as he leaned in, pressing a peck to your lips.

You jerked back, scandalized. “We’re in public.”

He shrugged, utterly shameless. “No one saw.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t care.” He leaned in again, brushing your cheek. “Can’t help it. It’s been a week.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing no good ever came from his teasing. “Behave.”

“Make me.”

His knee bumped against yours again, and his fingers started tracing little circles on your thigh, skimming your skin where your skirt rided up.

You swatted at his hand without looking. 

“Pay attention,” you mocked, throwing his words back at him.

Rafe hummed, flipping the page in your notebook like he was being helpful. Then he reached over, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You start paying attention,” he murmured, voice low “Or you’re staying celibate until you’re done with the quiz.”

 “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” He leaned back, amused, after dropping the most devastating sentence you’ve ever heard. “You study, you pass, you get what y’want.”

Oh, that little— You refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even if the memory of him—his hands gripping your hips, his voice all wrecked while you rode him into the mattress—was currently frying your brain.

He thought you were just gonna sit here and let him dangle sex over your head like some kind of academic incentive.

“That’s cute,” you forced a sweet smile. “You think you can tell me what to do.”

“Know I can.”

You rolled your eyes, tapping your pen against your notebook. “I’ll just find someone else to get the job done.”

“Who?” he asked, voice all amused. “Limp dick? The one I had to beat the fuck up on the ice ‘cause he was talkin’ shit about you?”

You should’ve known he’d bring that up again.

You refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But Rafe was already grinning, he wasn’t dumb, you weren’t going to mess around with anyone else. He could tell that even when you tried to get under his skin, you weren’t serious.

“Right,” he nodded, playing along like you had options. “Yeah, no. You’re not fuckin’ him. Or anyone else.” 

You scoffed, “And who said I wanted you?”

He pretended to think it over, fingers rubbing his chin, “Man, I don’t know. You looked real desperate in that one video you sent—”

You immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, warmth already making you squirm in your seat, “I will kill you.”

Rafe chuckled against your palm, eyes glinting as he peeled your hand away with ease, gripping your wrist. “Y’know, the one where you were moaning my name?” His voice was just loud enough to make your stomach drop, “With your fingers—"

Your eyes widened in panic as you shot a glance around the library. 

“Rafe,” you hissed, smacking his arm.

“What? M’just saying, you looked so needy. All spread out, fingers deep—”

You slapped your hand over his mouth again, his voice muffled against your skin, absolutely loving how flustered you were.

That’s why this was fun—because you knew Rafe and he knew you, neither of you were fucking around with other people. That’s why you didn’t use condoms, why he finished inside every time without either of you even thinking twice about it.

“Shut up,” you attempted to keep your laughter at bay because fuck, he was annoying.

Rafe pushed your hand away again, “Bet you watched it back, huh? Wishing it was me instead of your fingers?”

You glared, smacking his chest.

“I leave for one week and you lose all self-control.”

You shoved at him, harder this time, but he just squeezed your side gently. “Don’t act like you didn’t ask for it.”

“Nah, nah, I’m just saying—" He dropped his voice an octave, mimicking a breathy little moan, “Rafe, please—”

“Oh my God.” You lunged at him this time, hand slapping over his mouth in pure desperation.

He was full-on shaking with laughter against you, his shoulders bouncing. His eyes crinkled at the corners, blue as ever, absolutely fucking delighted with himself. You could feel his lips still moving under your hand, he was trying to keep going just to piss you off more.

“You are such a child,” you gritted, pushing down harder like you could physically mute him.

You shot another panicked look around, losing it over the idea of someone overhearing this bullshit. But the library was still pretty empty—except for a couple of freshmen in the corner, who thankfully weren’t paying you any attention.

“You wish I was that desperate,” you shot back, flipping your notebook shut because there was absolutely no way you were studying now.

Rafe scoffed, leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs, “Open it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“Your notebook. Open it.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

Rafe reached over and flipped it open himself, plucking your pen from the table, and spinning it between his fingers like he had all the time in the world.

“You’re gonna sit here, take notes like a good girl, and pass your quizz—” He leaned in, voice dropping to a drawl. “—then I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget all about how much you hated studying.”

You swallowed, your thighs closing instinctively. Son of a bitch, he was really going to make you study. You snatched your pen from his hand with a glare, turning back to your notes.

His free hand landed on your knee, thumb rubbing circles.

"Good girl," he praised.

Fucker.

You huffed, shoving his hand away—not that it did much, since he just put it right back. 

“This is stupid.”

“And you’re real fuckin' cute when you’re mad at me.”

His eyes dropped to your lips for a second before he sat back, physically stopping himself from kissing you, tapping the page.

“Try it now,” he said, mocking.

You blinked at the page, trying to refocus, but fuck, your brain was not cooperating, all you could think about was how badly you wanted to get under this fucking table. You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to look at the notes he so generously organized for you, but all the numbers and words blurred together.

“You’re not even trying.”

“I was trying before you showed up.”

Rafe chuckled. “No, you weren’t. You were pouting. Probably about me.”

“As if.”

He tilted his head, unconvinced. “Mmm. What were you thinking about, then? You looked really…” He licked his lips, eyes moving down your body before dragging back up to your face. “Focused.”

Your fingers twitched where they rested on the table, gripping your pen. You weren’t going to answer that when you had been thinking about him

You weren’t admitting shit.

 “Shut the fuck up.”

He laughed, absolutely delighted, reaching over and twisting your pen right out of your grip, tucking it behind his ear.

You stared at him, exasperated. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll give it back.”

You pursed your lips, “Give me my pen.”

“Say please.”

You made a grab for it, but he was faster, pulling back just out of reach, the movement making his shirt lift, high enough for you to catch a sliver of tan skin, the cut of his abs—You forced yourself to look away before you did something embarrassing, like drool.

Rafe saw, his smirk turning downright filthy.

“Eyes up here, princess.” He tapped his own chin. 

You inhaled through your nose, willing yourself to stay calm. “Rafe.”

“Yeah?”

“Give me my fucking pen.”

“C’mon,” he drawled, spinning the pen between his fingers. “You can do better than that.”

You leaned in, glaring at him. “I’m going to stab you with it.”

“See? That’s not very nice.”

If he wanted to play games, you could play, too.

You tilted your head, softening your gaze, letting the tiniest smirk curl at your lips. “Rafe,” you murmured, reaching out and skimming your fingers over his wrist, featherlight. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, his arrogant expression faltering.

You hardly touched him, leaning in close enough that your breath tickled his ear, letting your nails trail up his forearm, watching in satisfaction as goosebumps prickled in their wake.

This was too easy.

“Please, Rafe,” you murmured again, barely brushing your lips against his jaw this time, just the softest ghost of a touch—

And boom.

The pen hit the table with a clatter.

Your lips curled against his skin, gotcha. God, that was satisfying. You leaned back, slow, picking up the pen like nothing happened. 

“See?” You grinned, twirling it between your fingers. “That wasn’t so hard.”

“You know what else is hard?”

Your pen slipped, the tip dragging a line of ink across the page.

“You should fix that. Can’t have sloppy notes, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, his knee touched yours again, his fingers flexing over your thigh, fingertips teasing at the hem of your skirt.

“Rafe,” you hissed in warning.

“C’mon, no one’s looking.”

Your eyes darted around, but the library had emptied. The couple of freshmen in the corner were suddenly gone. It was late, and the space had gone quiet, save for sound of the AC and the occasional rustle of paper.

His hand slid higher, his breath warm against your jaw. “Been thinkin' about you all week.”

“Not here,” you gulped, even as your thighs parted automatically.

Rafe hummed in approval, his lips grazing your temple. Then, he was grabbing your wrist, yanking you up so fast you barely had time to shove your laptop closed, tripping over your own feet.

“Rafe—!”

He didn’t listen, steering you between the bookshelves with ease, deeper into the back corner of the library. It was dimmer here, the overhead lights flickering slightly.

“Relax,” he murmured, spinning you until your back hit the shelves. His hands found your body, holding on to your curves. “Wouldn’t let anyone see you like this.”

You protested, but it melted into a sigh when he nipped at your lips, trailing soft kisses down your neck. “You’re the worst tutor ever.”

His mouth was on yours then, stopping the scolding, his hands skimming your thighs, teasing the edge of your underwear. His fingers ghosted over your core, feeling the damp fabric.

“Missed this,” he confessed against your skin.

You sucked in a sharp breath when he hooked a finger under the thin strip of lace, dragging it to the side, baring you to him, sliding against you—and oh, fuck.

Your grip tightened on his shirt, hips jerking involuntarily into his touch. His breath came out in a sharp exhale, his forehead dropping to yours. 

“Goddamn,” he muttered, voice all wrecked. “You missed me too, huh?”

You wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, but your brain, your entire body was betraying you as his fingers molded themselves to you, spreading you open, sliding through your slick with an arrogance that made you want to smack him. Or, maybe, fuck him right here.

Your head thunked back against the bookshelf. “Rafe,” you gritted out.

“What?” He tilted his head, “Somethin’ you wanna ask me?”

You glared at him. “If you don’t fucking move—”

“Been thinking about me?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but then he flattened the tip of his finger inside, teasing, “Haven’t exactly had a choice,” you admitted, voice breathy.

 “Yeah? Kept you up, didn’t I?”

You hated how well he knew you.

He laughed under his breath, but listened, finally sliding one finger in, all the way to the knuckle, slow enough to make you feel every inch of it.

His forehead fell against yours as gently as possible, feeling you squeeze around his finger was testing his patience. “Been dreamin’ about this all fuckin’ week.”

He started moving, curling his finger inside you, hitting that spot that made your thighs tremble. His thumb dragged over your clit, featherlight at firsst, only enough to make your hips jerk, slipping in a second, the stretch making your breath stutter, your nails sinking into his shoulder.

You could hear how wet you were, the sound of it filling the tiny corner of the library. It should’ve embarrassed you, but all it did was make Rafe groan under his breath.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his hand tightening on your hip. “Y’hear that, baby? How fuckin’ wet you are for me?”

Your thighs squeezed around his hand, your breath turning uneven.

“You always get this messy,” His tone was smug, pupils blown wide, like he was drunk on you. “Couldn’t even focus all week, could you?”

You swallowed, knowing you couldn’t lie and in return, he pressed closer, thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit. 

“Say it.”

Your head dropped back against the shelf, a whimper slipping out before you could stop it.

"Uh-uh," he tsked, dragging his fingers up, agonizingly so, “C’mon.”

You exhaled sharply, “T-thought about you every night.”

Rafe groaned, fingers fucking into you faster, rougher. “That’s it,” he murmured, forehead pressing against yours. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, barely stifling your cry, thighs trembling against his hand. You were looking up at him with those big, pleading eyes, already knowing you had him right where you wanted him.

He let out a quiet, almost amused exhale, shaking his head. “Fingers or cock?”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear now. He wasn’t teasing—wasn’t gonna make you beg.

Your answer came quick, needy. “Cock.”

His fingers continued to work you open first, thorough, making sure you were ready—though you were already soaked, whining his name. And fuck, you need to feel him, to sink into him.

He pulled out, only to replace them with his cock, burying himself deep in one smooth thrust, groaning at the way you clenched around him. His forehead dropped to yours, breath ragged, hands gripping your thighs, legs wrapped around his waist.

You swore he felt even more solid than before—broader, stronger. A week away at training camp, skating, lifting, and it showed. It wasn’t fair that he could come back after a week and feel like this, move like this, take up so much space and attention like he always did.

“Told you I was gonna make you wait,” his voice was strained. “Guess I lied.” Rafe’s fingers dug into your thighs, pushing you harder against the bookshelf, words spilling out between thrusts. “Goddamn—Like I never even left."

You felt every inch of him stretching you out, as always, never fully getting used to how good it felt. The bookshelf behind you rattled with every movement, joining your breathy gasps, the wet slap of skin on skin.

He bit down gently on your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, “You missed me,” he sounded delirious, dragging his lips down your throat, letting his teeth graze your skin before sucking. “Bet you were fuckin’ yourself stupid thinking about this, weren’t you?”

The thought of him had kept you up all night, fingers buried deep, wishing it was him instead. You couldn’t even deny it, your hips jerking to meet each thrust, desperate to get him even deeper.

Rafe chuckled darkly at your silence, dropping his forehead against yours, breath ragged, “Came thinking about me fillin’ you up, huh?” His hands tightened on your thighs, adjusting his grip, the angle making you gasp. “Fuck—tell me.”

Your hands fisted in his hair, your walls clenching around him, making his rhythm stutter. You swallowed, throat dry from all the garbles you kept letting out. “Wanted you—fuck, Rafe—I wanted you so bad.”

 “Yeah? Think about me stretching this pussy out?”

A ragged moan slipped from your lips, and he caught it, swallowing it down with an open-mouthed kiss. His knees buckled when your walls fluttered around him, fingers digging into your thighs as he tilted your chin up, keeping your lips fused to his, tongue sweeping against yours, licking into your mouth like he couldn’t stand not tasting you.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, kissing you through every thrust, his lips dragging over yours between moans, biting your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. “So fuckin’ good, baby—”

Every time you moaned, he was there, stealing it with his lips, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, kissing you through it. Rafe hissed when you bit his lip, dragging him impossibly closer, gasping when he hit that spot. His forehead pressed to yours, mouth brushing yours.

“Keep kissing me,” you panted.

His answering growl vibrated against your lips before he obeyed—his mouth slanting over yours again, licking, sucking, drowning in you as he fucked you right there between the bookshelves.

Your head thunked back against the bookshelf, and Rafe chased after you, hand bracing on one side of your head as he devoured you. It made your thighs shake where they were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his back.

“Look at you,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours, diving deeper just to watch you. Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering, but he didn’t let you look away.

“Fucking ruined for me,” he breathed, lips still grazing yours with every panting breath.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, clinging to him as he pounded into you, desperate now.

“C’mon,” he rasped, his voice all beautifully wrecked against your cheek, his thumb slipping between you to take care of your clit, his other hand gripping your jaw, keeping your lips right there—teeth scraping over your bottom lip, his tongue following right after, kissing you through it, swallowing your scream as your body went taut, your orgasm hitting you so hard your vision went white for more than ten seconds.

Your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close as his thrusts turned sloppier. Rafe groaned, light-headed at this point, stuttering as you clenched so good around him, dragging him with you. He swallowed your gasps, moaning into your mouth as he buried himself deep, coming inside, filling you up just like always.

Your hands roamed, slipping under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his stomach, his muscles twitching under your touch. You traced up his ribs, nails raking down his back, and Rafe groaned against your lips, his cock twitching inside you.

You pulled back, just enough to whisper against his mouth. “You’re still hard.”

Rafe huffed a laugh, “Yeah. Wonder why.” His fingers flexed on your hips before sliding up your back, curling around the back of your neck.

You whimpered, pressing closer, rolling your hips instinctively, “’M sensitive.”

“Payback.”

You smacked his shoulder weakly, still trying to catch your breath. “Shut up.”

He grinned, fixing your skirt, not before getting a good handfull of your ass, “Mmm, love when y'get all bratty after I fuck the attitude outta you.”

Your legs were wobbly as you adjusted your skirt and tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable, while he tucked himself back into his jeans, his hands moving with an infuriating ease.

“Asshole,” you muttered as you straightened your top, smoothing your hands over your thighs. “You should probably go first. Before someone sees us.”

Rafe tilted his head, studying you. “You care that much?”

You frowned, glancing around the library. You weren’t embarrassed, but there was something about the way he asked the question that made you hesitate.

This was fine, just a thing, a very casual thing. No big deal.

You hated the way his words affected you though. “Rafe—”

“Relax, princess.” He smirked, but there was something in his tone that made you wonder if he cared as much. 

He stepped closer again, his fingers moving along your jaw before he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your lips—and when he pulled away, his lips brushed against your temple, fleeting.

Alright, stay cool. No need to overthink it.

“I’ll email you my notes from last year,” he murmured, his breath fanning over your skin. “Should help with your quiz. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there.

You exhaled, leaning against the bookshelf, knowing you were a little mean for no reason, you were protecting yourself. You were supposed to be able to separate this shit. It was just sex.

Why couldn’t you keep it like that? What the hell happened to the girl who told herself she wasn’t gonna get emotionally attached? 

Oh! That’s right, she was emotionally attached before this shit even started. You were smarter than this, knew how to act detached.

Why did have to be him? You sat down, staring blankly at your laptop, but your mind was a fucking mess.

Because no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, no matter how much you told yourself that it was just sex—You had a quiz to study for. That was the whole reason you were here in the first place, right? Not to get fucked stupid against a bookshelf by Rafe Cameron.

A frustrated groan slipped past your lips, and you sank further into your chair, rubbing a hand over your face. This was so fucking bad.

You liked him.

You’d always liked him, that was the problem. Maybe he didn’t know how much—maybe he didn’t realize that he already had you wrapped around his finger.

[little-jana]

"Wrong Recipient"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: some minor tension

Words: 1.2k

Summary: After accidently sending a bikini picture to Spencer, awkwardness leads to confessions.

It was an ordinary evening at home. My phone buzzed on the couch beside me, a simple distraction from the mundane quiet of the night. I was scrolling through old photos, reminiscing about the summer when I’d gone on that impromptu girls’ weekend at the beach. One photo, in particular, caught my eye.

I had almost forgotten about this one. The sunlight had been just perfect that day, painting my skin golden as I stood in front of the crashing waves in a bikini. It wasn’t the type of photo I’d post publicly, but something about it made me feel confident, powerful. I grinned at the memory and decided to send it to my best friend with a teasing caption.

Or at least, I thought I was sending it to her.

I tapped the photo, quickly typed, Still got it, huh?, and hit send.

It wasn’t until my phone buzzed again moments later that I realized my mistake.

Spencer Reid: “Uh… I think you sent this to the wrong person.”

My stomach dropped.

“Oh. My. God.”

My hand flew to cover my mouth as I stared at the message. My heart was pounding so loudly I swore I could hear it in my ears. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

I opened our chat and saw the horrifying truth staring back at me: my photo, sunlit and confident, sent to none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.

I didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or throw my phone out the window. Spencer was my coworker, my friend. Sure, I might have had a tiny crush on him (okay, a huge, impossible-to-ignore crush), but this? This was next-level mortifying.

Before I could figure out how to respond, my phone buzzed again.

Spencer Reid: “It’s a really nice photo. But I don’t think I was the intended recipient?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I couldn’t ignore him—Spencer was a genius; he’d know I was avoiding him. But what could I even say?

Be cool, I told myself. Play it off.

I typed back quickly: “Oh my god, Spencer. That was so not meant for you. I’m so sorry!”

The three dots indicating he was typing appeared almost immediately.

Spencer Reid: “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it. Mistakes happen.”

Mistakes happen. Sure. Like accidentally sending a picture of yourself looking like that to the coworker you secretly fantasized about. Totally normal.

The next day at work was pure torture.

Every time I saw Spencer, I felt my face heat up, and I had to resist the urge to dive under my desk. He, on the other hand, was acting almost… strange. He wasn’t avoiding me—far from it. If anything, he was hovering more than usual, lingering by my desk to chat about cases or throwing me quick, flustered glances when he thought I wasn’t looking.

I wasn’t imagining it—something had shifted between us.

“Hey,” he said casually during one of his visits to my desk. “Do you, uh, want to grab lunch today?”

I blinked, surprised. Spencer rarely initiated lunch plans. “Oh, sure. Yeah.”

“Great,” he said, a little too quickly, before awkwardly retreating to his desk.

By the time we sat across from each other at a small café down the street, the tension was palpable. Spencer was fidgeting with his napkin, and I could tell he was building up to something.

“Spence,” I said gently, trying to break the ice. “You’re acting weird. Is everything okay?”

He looked up at me, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah. Yes. Everything’s fine. I just…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “About the photo…”

My stomach twisted. “Oh god, can we just pretend that didn’t happen?” I said, laughing nervously.

He hesitated, his eyes locking onto mine. “I don’t think I can.”

That caught me off guard. “What?”

“I mean…” He shifted in his seat, looking adorably flustered. “You looked… you looked really beautiful.”

The air between us seemed to thicken, my breath catching in my throat. I hadn’t expected that.

“Spence…” I said softly, unsure of how to respond.

“I know it wasn’t meant for me,” he continued quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t… affect me.”

My heart was pounding. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “Not just in that photo, but all the time. You’re smart, and funny, and kind, and I…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.”

My chest felt tight as I stared at him, his words sinking in. Spencer Reid, the man I’d admired for so long, was sitting across from me, confessing feelings I’d only dreamed he might have.

“Spence,” I said softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “I think about you too. More than I probably should.”

His eyes widened slightly, his hand turning to gently clasp mine. “You do?”

I nodded, my heart pounding. “I do.”

The tension between us crackled, and for a moment, it felt like the world around us faded away.

“We should probably get back to work,” he said eventually, though his voice was laced with reluctance.

“Yeah,” I agreed, though neither of us made a move to leave.

His thumb brushed against the back of my hand, sending a shiver down my spine. “Maybe we can… talk more later?”

I smiled, warmth spreading through me. “I’d like that.”

Later that night, as I sat in my apartment replaying the day’s events in my mind, my phone buzzed.

Spencer Reid: “You really are beautiful, you know.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face as I typed back.

“So are you, genius.”

His response came almost immediately.

Spencer Reid: “Dinner tomorrow? My treat.”

My heart fluttered as I replied.

“It’s a date.”

[wcnderlnds]

bae bae | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: after a night out at club pentagon you end up in bed with your friend who has zero shame ・❥・word count: 1.6k ・❥・warnings: 18+. mdni. oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, thanos is rough. swearing. mentions of drugs, female reader. ・❥・ authors note: ... this is pure filth, im so sorry. also this is pre-squid game <3 i also havent added my taglist in case people dont want to be tagged in smut but if you do let me know!!

The whole night had been a blur. How you’d ended up back in your own bed you had no idea but thankfully you’d made it home safe. The music from Club Pentagon still echoed through your ears like an anthem constantly playing in your head. You opened your eyes, your hands coming up to rub them with the palm of your hands. What time was it? You leaned over, grabbing your phone off the bedside table to see it was 3am. With a groan, you buried your head back into the safety of your pillow making a mental note to yourself to never drink so much again. All you could remember was that it had been a rough day, so bad that your friend Su-bong had decided a night out at his favourite club was the perfect remedy. So much for listening to him. That was on you, really. None of his ideas were ever good. They mostly consisted of drowning feelings in alcohol or taking one of his colourful little pills to forget what was going on.

As your thoughts drifted to him, a quiet groan filled the room causing you to perk up. It was coming from next to you so you just had to assume it was Thanos making noises in his sleep. He did that often – his nightmares coming frequently. If he was next to you that meant he had been the one to bring you home. A big thank you was in order for him in the morning when you could handle being awake. If your pounding head was anything to go by, you were going to have one hell of a hangover. Your eyes closed once again as you tried to drift back off to sleep. Just as you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard a grunt.

Okay, what was going on here?

You turned around, sitting up slightly as you took in the scene before you. Yeah, there Thanos was. Everything seemed normal until you saw his chest rising and falling rapidly, movement under the blankets catching your eye. Your brows furrowed. This man wasn’t doing what you thought he was doing in your bed, was he? Only one way to find out.

Maybe it was your hungover mind but the thought of what you might find excited you. The way he was biting his lower lip to keep quiet only fueling your intrusive thoughts. Your fingers grasped the blanket, pulling it off. Well, you were right.

There he was, hand wrapped around his cock as he jerked himself off. Your eyes fixated on his hand that began speeding up, his hips bucking off the bed for more friction. Oh, he was really into this. How had he not realised you’d caught him? Part of you wanted to watch him finish, the throbbing between your legs thinking for you more than your brain. You hadn’t even realised how into this you were until you caught yourself slipping. There had been moments in the past where the two of you had almost hooked up but it had never gone past making out. Something always got in the way whether it was his friend Nam-gyu interrupting or his need to take another pill – it never led anywhere.

You cleared your throat deciding it was better to let him know you’d caught him than let him carry on. His eyes flew open, his hand still as he looked at you. He wasn’t embarrassed – you were certain he didn’t even know that emotion. He just looked at you expectantly, pushing himself to sit up slightly, his erection still standing for the world to see. 

“What?” He asked unbothered, annoyed even that you’d stopped him.

“I just caught you jerking yourself off and you don’t care?” You blinked at him. This was Thanos, of course he didn’t care. He had no shame.

“Why the fuck would I? Now, you gonna let me finish or help me out here.” He gestured towards his cock, his hand slowly stroking himself again.

As you watched, you couldn’t help but be transfixed. He knew what he was doing and it was working. The cogs in your brain were working overtime as you fought with helping him or ignoring him and letting take care of himself. He could see it, the smirk on his face making him look even more attractive. ‘Fuck it’, you thought. 

“Fine, you’ll owe me one, though.”

“No problem, Senorita. Now get those pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

You didn’t have time to react before his hand came up to your head, pushing you down towards his hardened length. Your tongue darted out, teasing the head but he wasn’t having it. He was too horny for teasing. He needed to have his cock stuffed down your throat or he was going to go insane. So, without warning, he pushed your head down onto him. It took you by surprise, almost choking but you steadied yourself, hands gripping his hips as you finally found a rhythm. Your lips moved up and down his length, tongue flattening out against the underside of his cock.

“Mhmm, just like that, pretty girl,” he rasped in that deep voice of his, his fingers tangling in your hair pushing you down onto him. You felt him hit the back of your throat almost gagging on him before he pulled you back up. “You’re doing so good.”

The praise was turning you on more than you’d like to admit. Your lips wrapped around him again, taking him as deep as you could without choking but it wasn’t enough. His hips bucked up into your mouth, his hand firmly tangled in your hair. You decided to give up and let him have his way. He felt your mouth slacken, the feral grin on his face letting you know he was more than willing to fuck your mouth stupid.

His grunts and groans filled the room as he thrust up into your mouth at a rapid pace. You could feel his cock twitching each time he hit the back of your throat. Tears sprang at the corner of your eyes as you gagged on him, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

Just as you were sure he was about to finish, he yanked your head off him, pushing you back down onto the bed. In a frenzy, he pushed the skirt up you were wearing, pulling your panties to the side. He slid his index finger along your pussy, almost groaning at how wet you were when he hadn’t even done anything. You were so damn desperate, he loved every second of it. “Wanna come inside this sweet, little pussy. You gonna let me, baby?”

He dragged his cock along your folds coating himself in your slickness and that was game over for you. Frantically, you nodded your head. That was all he needed. He pushed himself inside you in one deep thrust. The loud moan you let out surprised you, Thanos’s eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of finally being inside you after all this time. No interruptions, no need for a high. This was the only high he needed. He’d been missing out. He pushed your legs up and over his shoulders, pulling his cock almost all the way out and thrusting inside once again. His pace was anything but gentle, the tight grip he had on your hips sure to leave bruises. Your hands gripped the bedsheets below you as he pounded into you. There was no way you were going to last long if he kept this up but then again neither was he. You could tell with the way his eyebrows scrunched up that he was holding back. At least he wasn’t selfish in the bedroom.

“Su-bong,” you moaned, back arching as you felt your orgasm fast approaching. The moaning of his name was almost his undoing.

“Yeah? You like that, huh? Like being fucked stupid by your best friend?” He panted, the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoing off the walls of the small room. The bed occasionally banging against the wall with the intensity of his thrusts. Your neighbours were definitely going to have something to say about it in the morning. “Come for me. Wanna feel you squeezin’ the life outta me.”

One particular hard thrust and that was it. A loud, almost pornographic moan fell from your lips as you saw stars. Your fingers pulled at the sheets, legs quivering as your orgasm washed over you. Thanos didn’t let up his pace, his eyes drawn to where your bodies were joined as he fucked into you. The feeling of your walls squeezing around his cock bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, fuck. Gonna come. Gonna fill you up real good.”

It took one, two more thrusts when he stilled inside you, his cock twitching as he came harder than he had in his life. He was sure he saw the whole damn universe, throwing his head back as he groaned. His hips shallowly thrust into you, pulling out once he’d finished. Did he clean you up? Nah. He flopped back down next to you, grabbing his vape off the bedside.

“We should’ve done that a long time ago,” he chuckled, taking a puff. He handed it over to you, his lazy eyes meeting yours. “Do I still owe you one?”

You took a hit of the vape, nodding your head as you passed it back to him. “Oh, hell yeah you do. Not getting out of it that easily.”

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he winked at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you into his side. It wasn’t cuddling but it was something to show you his appreciation. Better than nothing.

[lunajay33]

Waiting🖤 Part.2

Summary: After decades of being alone without a love of his own he finally finds her in a gloomy town of forks, his brother Edward isn’t the only lucky one

Pairing: Emmett Cullen x f! Swan reader

Warning: angsty, fluffy sunshine Emmett

Part.1

•Masterlist•

Friday came and I was a nervous wreck, I didn’t care to tell Bella or dad about this seeing as Bella has already distanced herself from me and I didn’t wanna get dads hopes up, sitting in math class, the last class of the day I kept glancing at the clock ticking closer and closer to the final bell, trying to distract myself I delved back into the worksheet infront of me, soon enough the bell rang and my heart jumped

Anxiously I threw everything into my bag and left the school straight to the parking lot, where Emmett was leaned against his silver jeep, when his eyes landed on me that bright smile stretch across his face making his amber eyes shine

“Hey gorgeous you ready for the best night of your life?” I could feel the heat rush to my face only making his smirk widen

“Not like that y/n, not yet anyways, come on hop in” he said as he held the door open for me, quickly getting in the drivers seat next to me

“Sooo um what’re we doing?”

“Thought we could go hiking, maybe get out of the cloud bank into some sunlight”

“I love hiking! Sounds like fun” finally relaxing knowing now it’s something I’m use to doing

He drove for a while out of forks to a near by hiking trail not commonly used by the public, we got out and started our journey

“So tell me a bit about yourself Angel” he said breaking the silence

“Well there’s not much to know, I’ve lived here my whole life, my sister and mom left when I was young so it’s just been me and my dad, I became homeschooled until now and I usually just read and do homework”

“Not a big social butterfly I assume?”

“Not really, what about you? Tell me everything!”

“Well I have 4 adopted siblings, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie and Edward, you’ll love Alice she’s the sweetest, I like getting out into the forest, love music and working out”

“Yeah I can tell” I smiled glancing at his bulging muscles under his long sleeve shirt

“Woah she’s got some fire in her after all” he laughed nudging my arm

“What can I say you bring it out of me” his hand grazed against mine until he went for it and intertwined his fingers through mine

“Why so nervous pretty girl? Do I fluster you?”

“Maybe, I’ve never really done stuff like this but it’s nice” I saw his features soften as he looked down at me and gently squeezed my hand

“Really? A beautiful thing like yourself, I’m surprised you don’t have boys on their knees begging for your attention”

“I think you have me mixed up with my sister” I laughed nervously

“And who might that be because I don’t even need to see her to know your beauty is beyond anything of this world”

“Emmett stop you’re just trying to make me blush, and my sister is Bella, Bella swan she’s new to the school” he stopped dead in his tracks with a shocked expression

“Bella is your sister, like your actual sister?”

“So you already know her, not a surprise”

“No it’s not that, my brother Edward has been after her since she came at the start of the week, kind of funny how two brothers can like two sisters, but I must say I got the more beautiful”

“You’re too sweet Em, I can’t believe she hasn’t said anything”

“Edward is a very awkward secretive guy I’m sure Bella is the same way maybe that’s why she hasn’t said anything”

“Can’t say you’re wrong”

He looked me up and down trying to judge something, curious

“Do you trust me?”

“I only just meet you but yeah, I do”

In an instant he flung me over his back so I was clung to him like a monkey

“Hold on tight sunshine” everything flew by in a blur, there was no shape to anything with the speed he was going, but however he was doing this it didn’t scare me or make me wonder what the hell was happening, I actually felt at peace

Soon enough he stopped as we cleared the cloud bank and the sun was beaming, he placed me gently back down on my feet and turned around, his skin was like a million tiny crystals, I was in awe by how much more beautiful he became

“Are you scared?” He asked as his face scrunch with worry

I raised my hand and traced down his cheek feeling his hard cold skin

“No quite the opposite, you’re beautiful Emmett”

“Don’t you wanna know what I am?” He asked placing his hands on my hips

“Whatever you are I’d never judge, I feel you’d never hurt me so I don’t care what you are”

“How did I get so lucky” he stated as he lifted me like I weighed a feather, wrapping my legs around his waist

“What do you mean?”

“Us vampires have mates and the moment you bumped into me in the hallways I knew you were mine, the one I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with”

“But why me, you could have anybody”

“You’re everything I’ll ever need, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you Angel, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity showing you how amazing you are”

My heart swelled with the most love I’ve ever felt and I’m lucky enough to finally find the one who will brighten my life

Taglist: @whit0912 @serenadingtigers @twilightlover2007

[angelsluva]

can you write a fic of hamzah, martin, and mandy going on a cruise to mexico for reader’s 21st birthday and they blog the whole trip for readers youtube channel. ( and can you add in some smut🤪)

birthday cruise | Hamzahthefantastic

fem reader + nsfw, wrd count: 1.9k

`It was a couple weeks before Hamzah and Martin would come back from they're break. You and Hamzah have been able to spend more time together and it was the best for you two. Him being the clingy person he is he loved every second he'd spend with you.

Mandy and Martin loved traveling together, but they also loved when all four of you guys would go. You all decided to go on a cruise just to enjoy your last days of break together AND celebrate your 21'st Birthday before they spend another 10+ hours in the office.

|

You looked outside of the window of the plane as you saw the most bluest water ever. You looked back at your boyfriend who was also looking outside the window knowing he was gonna spend the best time with you.

The plane finally landed in the bright sunny Mexico. Bright colored birds flew over your head as you were getting off the plane and a not so cool but warm breeze hit your face. You all were quick to get off the plane and currently waiting in the arrivals of the airport waiting for your uber.

"Oh my god, I love this weather!" You smiled putting your hand up feeling the warmness of the breeze. "I'm already getting hot! Is it just me?" Hamzah said unzipping his hoodie as you laughed. After a couple more 20 minutes of waiting you were all picked up by a van on your way to the cruise ship. You looked outside the seat of your window noticing things you would never see in Canada.

"I'm so excited!" you squealed as Hamzah kissed your head as his arm was wrapped around your shoulders.

You all four had agreed on getting separate rooms so it would be Mandy and Martin next to you both.

|

You all were finally boarding the ship as you couldn't believe you were on a single floating ship that carried more than 500 people. You began to feel a small anxiousness creep over you as you looked for your rooms, Obviously Hamzah noticed and decided to hold your hand.

"Are you okay babe?" He questioned as you nodded your head. "Yeah, I'm just kind of scared that I'll get sea sick or something." you sighed as he pulled you closer to him, "Lets just try to have the best night okay? And If you don't feel good we can always get off and go somewhere else." He said lowly as you nodded and kissed him.

After making it to your shared room you suddenly felt so much better. You looked at the Bright clear blue sky and the pattern of the waves the ever so blue ocean would make. You leaned against the balcony as you felt Hamzah's hands wrap around your waist. "So pretty" you smiled as he nipped your cheek - "Just like you" he added as you cupped the side of his face. You all decided to get ready and go eat since you haven't had anything since the morning of your flight. You wore a black bikini and threw over a matching black crochet dress that laid all the way down to at least your ankles. You freshened your self up and you both we're out of the door waiting for Martin and Mandy at a Buffet.

"Wow that looks so good on you babe" He said feeling the crochet dress, "Thank you baby" you said pecking him in the lips as he got closer to your ear - "I'm so glad we got a room to ourselves" he whispered as you pushed him off you "Hamzah!" you laughed as "What!? I'm serious!" he giggled as you saw Mandy and Martin finally arrive.

"Dude I kind of wish Rudolph was here man" Martin laid his head on Hamzah's shoulder and Hamzah rubbed Martin back, "I know, I know, me too".

You all four had sat down on a table in front of a beautiful view of the sunset, The waiter had suddenly came to take everyone's order.

"I'll do two steaks please for us and all of your special drinks!" Hamzah said handing the waiter the menu as your eyes widened in shock. "It's her special day! 21'st by the way, Thanks!" He added as the waiter smiled and left. "What was that!" Mandy bursted out laughing as you were re-thinking coming here in the first place. You all were joking the whole night until all 15 drinks finally arrived. You looked at Hamzah who had a devilish smirk on his face, "Why would you do this!" you planted your face on your palm "It's okay! Mandy and Martin will help! See!" He said giving two drinks to Mandy and Martin "Woahhh I don't know about that!" Mandy laughed as Martin shrugged his shoulders picking up a glass and downing it as Mandy took the glass away from him.

You all spent the rest of the dinner trying to finish the drinks as you all watched the night come together as bright lights hung from the top of the cruise.

After finishing dinner, you all made your way to the giant pool of the Cruise.

You slid your dress off as you slowly stepped into the pool with Hamzah. The warm air and cool pool was the perfect relaxing mix. You dunked your head in as he laughed. You got up from under the water as he dove splashing next to you. He charged picking you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He shook his head as you ran your fingers through his blonde grown out buzz.

"I'm so glad we were able to do this" he hummed "I know, These next 6 days are gonna be the best ever" you smiled as his lips crashed into yours. Your hands ran through his arms, biceps and around his neck. You felt splashing onto you as Mandy and Martin had joined the both of you. You all four decided to grab a few more drinks since it was a very special day for you. You obviously all agreed those were gonna be your last drinks of the night.

you all talked and vlogged for a bit for Mandy's channel. Meanwhile playing around a splashing in the water you couldn't help but notice Hamzah always getting behind you or not taking his hands off you.

"You look so gorgeous right now my love" he hummed into your ear as you looked at hamzah's red flushed face as his hands were glued to your waist, "please can we go to the room" he said needy for you. You never knew Hamzah was this crazy clingy when he was a little tispy.

|

Your legs were wrapped around Hamzah’s waist as he carried you to your room. It was just you two who remained in the pool until you both got kicked out eventually. He swung the door open as he kicked his sandals off as he sat at the edge of the bed as your lips met his. He rested his hands on your waist as he fidgeted with the strings of your bikini. Your hands wrapped around his necks tugging him closer to you as he leaned back on to the bed as you followed his move.

“I was waiting for this moment this whole day so far” he bit his bottom lip as you crawled on top of him as you fell on top of him. His hands traveling all over your back as your lips were sealed to his. His tongue slipped into your mouth as he grabbed the side of your face as you lowly moaned into his mouth. His lips parting off of yours as his eyes glistened, he loved hearing that noise come out of your mouth. He kissed your lips once again as you melted under him. He rolled around as you shifted under him as his knee was pinned between your heat. You whined as you couldn’t handle the friction between him and your sensitive cunt. His lips traced down your neck as your skin grew into goosebumps.

“Fuck Hamzah” you whined as his hands gripped onto your boobs as his mouth found your perky nipples. His free hand having a preview of your wet core. Your whimpers hitched under him. As his hand traveled down to your covered heat. Your hips twitched as you bit your lips.

"So excited huh? Can't wait till I get my fingers in you?" he huffed as his mouth sucked on your breasts. "Fuck yes please Hamzah.." you were able to breath out as his lips crashed into yours once again. Your nails traveled through his short hair as your legs wrapped around his waist already needing all of him. "Try not to be so loud mama" he grunted as his hard erection stood out through his swimming trunks. He lowered them down to his thighs as his erect cock flung upwards only making you desperate for him.

"So fucking desperate huh? Wanna be all over my cock princess?" He whispered as he slipped your panties to the side of your pussy as his thumb circled your sensitive clit. His lips messily kissing your neck as his pace grew rubbing against your clit. Before you were able to compose yourself he rubbed his hard cock against your heated core as your hands grasped onto his shoulders. The friction between his throbbing cock and your clit did wonders on you.

"Please Hamzah!" You whimpered as his member stretched out your aching pussy. Your hands gripped on to his swole forearms (👅) as his body slammed into yours as you yelled in satisfaction.

“Fuck your so good baby-“ he huffed as his lips met your neck once again kissing your chest as your legs wrapped around his waist. His pace grew as your hands traveled through out his hair once again.

“Fuck baby- you gonna come for me baby?” He whispered as you nodded your head in response as your back arched rolling your eyes till the back of your skull. His body slowed down as his lips began moving all over your exposed areas. He couldn’t help but leave a giant hickey close to the back of your neck as you whined in satisfaction. His couple more thrusts sent you into a state of satisfaction as you felt that huge knot release as he groaned into your ear.

“Mhhh- so fucking good. Yes-“ he moaned in between the sloppy thrusts as your stomach was filled with his cum.

“Fuck baby. Open wide.” He groaned as he slipped his twitching hard cock out of your pumping all his left over cum on your breasts and stomach as it left patterns he can stare at all day.

“Your so good for me y/n, happy birthday my love” he panted as he rested next to you as your lips met with his.

|

You both were sat in a warm bath as water slowly dripped from the fancy faucet. He ran the body scrub all over your neck and chest as you leaned on his chest. He loved after care just because he liked making you feel relaxed.

"What are you guys going to do when you both get to the office?" you questioned as your finger circled around a bubble in the water as he scoffed, "That's not important right now baby. What's Important is that you have the best birthday week ever." he hummed as he kissed the top of your head.

"I love you, Hamzah"

"I love you more angel"

_

(a/n: you guys have all the right to throw tomatoes at me for uploading this SO LATE, i just have been busy with so many things and I have so many more things coming but it was this fic holding some sort of grudge!! Without further ado I hope you guys enjoy >-<)

[yena-enha]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 - 𝐏𝐉𝐒

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Warning - Major character death, pregnancy complications, grief, emotional trauma, hospital scenes, blood, implied postpartum depression

Note - MDNI (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)/INTERACT AT YOUR OWN RISK/NSFW ANGST Content

Genre - Angst, Tragedy, Family, Emotional

Pairing - Idol!Jay x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Song Inspiration - “From the Dining Table” by Harry Styles

Word Count - 2,225 words

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Jay was in love.

With your laugh, with the way you clutched your stomach when your daughter kicked, with your sleepy voice over late-night calls.

But most of all, Jay was in love with the life the two of you had created—a baby girl, slowly growing in your womb, curling up beneath your ribs and stealing more of your heart each day.

He was in love with you. And yet, he was never there.

---

You had learned to smile for him.

Even on days when your vision blurred, when your legs trembled just walking from the bedroom to the kitchen. Even when blood coated your thighs in the middle of the night and you had to lie to the emergency line just to convince them not to call your husband because “he’s busy—he’s an idol.”

You always said the same thing when Jay called:

"I’m okay."

Even when you weren’t.

Even when your hands shook trying to make a meal, your back felt like it would snap under your own weight, and your body screamed for help.

You wanted him to be proud of you.

You didn’t want to be a burden.

You were six months pregnant, and the only thing louder than the baby’s heartbeat was the silence that followed after every call ended.

---

Jay would FaceTime during breaks.

He’d press his face close to the camera, eyes tired, but smile wide and boyish. “Hi, baby. Show me the belly.”

And you’d sit on the floor, biting your lip to hide the pain, and aim the camera down at your bump. It was bigger now. Stretched thin. Heavy.

“She kicked today,” you whispered, your voice weak.

His eyes lit up. “Really? She’s strong like her mom.”

You smiled, nodding. But you didn’t say how the kick had left you breathless and dizzy. How you had to hold onto the wall to keep from falling.

“Jay,” you said softly that night, “I’ve been feeling weird. Like… dizzy. And my legs hurt. I couldn’t stand earlier without losing balance.”

He frowned. “You went to the doctor, right?”

“I didn’t have a ride.”

“I can send a manager or—”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. I’ll go tomorrow.”

“I’ll come home next week. Just a few more days of rehearsals, okay? Hang in there, baby. You’re the strongest woman I know.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Okay.”

But inside, your body was crumbling.

---

It happened on a Sunday. Quiet, gray, forgettable—until it wasn’t.

You woke up with a sharp pain in your stomach, but you had grown used to pain by then. You slid your legs out of bed, palms bracing against the wall. Your vision danced, blurred at the edges.

“I just need water,” you whispered to yourself. “Just the kitchen.”

You made it halfway down the stairs when your legs gave out.

Your body twisted mid-air, your arms desperately reaching for a railing that wasn’t close enough. You landed hard.

Head.

Back.

Stomach.

A scream ripped from your throat—but no one was home to hear it.

Your hands instantly flew to your belly. Blood. There was so much blood.

“Please,” you whispered to the emptiness, “please don’t take her from me.”

---

Jay’s phone rang seven times before he answered.

He almost didn’t pick up. He was in the middle of rehearsing choreography.

But something in him knew.

The moment he saw Grandma Song’s name, his stomach dropped.

Her voice was shaking. Panicked. Breathless.

“She fell—Jay, she fell down the stairs—she’s bleeding—she wasn’t moving—ambulance took her—please, come fast—"

He dropped everything.

Didn’t change clothes. Didn’t tell staff. Didn’t grab his wallet.

He just ran.

---

The hospital was cold.

Jay didn’t remember how he got there. Whether he ran or flew. All he knew was that they wouldn’t let him in the ICU.

“Sir, she’s in surgery. Please wait here.”

“What happened to her?! What happened to my wife?!” he shouted, voice breaking.

“She’s sustained internal trauma. Placental rupture. Blunt force injury to the skull. She’s unconscious but—”

“But what?!” he roared, tears forming.

The nurse glanced away.

“…she woke up briefly before the anesthesia. Said to save the baby. No matter what.”

Jay stared at her, frozen. “What?”

“She insisted, sir. Begged, actually.”

---

He collapsed into a chair, hands gripping his hair, eyes stinging.

“She told you to save the baby over herself?”

The nurse nodded.

Jay let out a broken sob.

You were dying—and still thinking of your child before yourself.

The guilt clawed into his chest like a knife.

“I should’ve been there,” he whispered. “I should’ve been home.”

He didn’t feel the tears anymore. Just the aching.

“I left her alone. And now…”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

---

Hours passed.

The light above the ICU door glowed red.

Jay sat frozen in the hallway, head down, clutching the last photo you’d sent him—one where your belly peeked out beneath one of his hoodies, your smile tired but proud.

And then…

The light went out.

The doctor came out slowly. Face pale. Gloves stained.

Jay stood up. “Is she okay? Please, tell me she’s okay.”

The doctor took a deep breath.

“She didn’t make it.”

The air left Jay’s lungs.

“No,” he whispered. “No—no, that can’t be—”

“She lost too much blood. We did everything we could. But she went into cardiac arrest. She… she was gone before we finished the cesarean.”

Jay stumbled back. “But the baby…?”

“She’s alive. Tiny, but breathing. Fighting.”

Jay’s knees hit the floor.

You were gone.

And he hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

---

They let him see you one last time.

You looked peaceful. Too peaceful. Like sleep—but wrong.

Your hands were cold. Your lips blue.

Jay leaned over you, sobbing so hard his body shook.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, voice cracking. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I promised to protect you. I promised to come back. But I wasn’t there.”

He kissed your forehead. “You were all alone. I should’ve been the one to fall. I should’ve—God—I should’ve carried you through this.”

He clutched your hand, trembling. “I loved you more than anything. And now you’re—”

He couldn’t say it.

He couldn’t say dead.

---

When he saw the baby, he lost it all over again.

She was so small. Her body barely the size of his forearm. Wires taped to her chest. A nasal cannula feeding her oxygen.

“She’s strong,” the nurse said softly. “Just like her mom.”

Jay stood outside the glass for ten minutes before he dared enter.

When he held her, she didn’t cry. Just blinked slowly. Breathing.

Alive.

“You’re here,” he whispered. “You made it.”

He bent down and kissed her soft forehead.

“You’re all I have now.”

---

He named her Jayeon—meaning natural grace.

The name you scribbled on a sticky note months ago and stuck to the fridge.

Jay kept that note in his wallet now.

He moved the crib to your bedroom—his bedroom now. But he still slept on your side of the bed, curled around your pillow, as if you might come back one day.

Jayeon cried often in those first months, but Jay never complained.

Not once.

Because her cries meant she was alive.

And every time he held her close, he’d whisper:

"Your mommy gave you her heartbeat."

---

Jayeon was four when she found your photo book.

Jay walked in to see her sitting in the hallway, flipping through old polaroids. Her little hands traced your face over and over.

“Daddy?” she asked, eyes big. “Was Mommy beautiful?”

Jay knelt down beside her, voice catching in his throat.

“The most beautiful person I’ve ever known.”

“Where is she?”

Jay smiled gently, tears stinging. “She’s in the stars now, baby. Watching over you.”

“Did she love me?”

Jay’s lips quivered.

“She died loving you.”

He pulled her close, holding her tiny frame against his chest.

“Mommy gave you everything. And I promise… I’ll give you the rest.”

---

You left the world with empty arms, but you left behind a heartbeat—a daughter Jay would spend the rest of his life holding tight, so she’d never know the silence that took you away.

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CRY GUYS

«Masterlist || Introduction»

Taglist» (open) @strxwbloody

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[thelov3lybookworm]

Teddy Bears

Summary: She... doesn't dislike him?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2186

Warnings: tiniest bit of angst? no angst? idk but it is kinda chaotic lolll i love it

A/n: based on this request 😋 @mellowmusings ily thank you for giving me this idea hehe I HOPE U LIKE IT POOKIE 🥹

also @potatoplace and @sapphicmsmarvel, dedicated to u two cus i love u lots ur the best 🥹

(also something funny to distract tato from cramps hehe)

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

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If there was such a thing as Fae Going Mad List, Azriel was sure he’d be on the top of it.

He was not sure how to describe the feeling of helplessness that he had been feeling for quite some time now. Some days, it was barely a speck of awareness in the back of his mind. The others, he didn’t even want to leave his bed. It took sheer willpower, his shadow’s encouragement, Cassian’s constant nagging and the hope that maybe, that day would be the day Y/n finally gave him anything other than her signature condescending glare that she wore when it came to him that got him out of his pity party most days.

The fact that the person evoked such feelings in him did not care also gave him a bit of a reality check, enough to break out of the haze of self hatred.

Remember the plan.

Azriel glanced sideways at the little shadow that floated next to his ear as he climbed up the steps to the training ring, brows furrowed. Of course he remembered the plan. Or whatever half assed thoughts he called a plan, anyways.

Waking up, he had been filled with dread and determination, telling himself that enough was enough, today was the day that Y/n will have to tell him the reason she always had her nose turned up at him, as if she could not be bothered to look at him without contempt.

The training ring was mostly empty, as it usually was when the sun was high in the sky, except for two figures on the far end towards the edge. Cassian’s wings towered over the two, casting shade onto the smaller figure sat beside him.

Once again, the sight of the back that should have been proudly carrying her own set of wings stabbed a dagger of guilt into his heart, making Azriel wonder if he should even have the right to talk to her.

After all, it had been his fault she had lost her wings.

It was well known that after a female became eighteen years of age, her wings had to be cut off. Knowing the traditions, Rhysand had gathered Cassian and Azriel and decided that one of them had to be with her at all times of the day. She had been like a sister to Rhysand, and the only friend outside of each other, so the need to protect her was not questioned.

The day it had happened, Azriel had been on his resting day after a week of training. Back then, none of the three Illyrians were allowed to train on their rest days, or else the Lady of Night would have their arses.

Naturally, Azriel was supposed to follow Y/n around.

Of course, she didn’t want him to.

"Azriel, I am not a baby. You will leave me alone-"

"I won’t."

She huffed, pausing her angry march up the side of a hill she was trekking to get water from a nearby river. "You will."

Azriel glared right back. "It is my duty to Rhysand. I-"

"Fuck off!"

She had thrown a wooden bucket at him, fury radiating off of her, and it had infuriated Azriel, how she acted like she was oh so better than him. He knew she was, sure, but it maddened him all the same.

And in a bout of frustration, Azriel spread his wings as far as they would go, then beat them and flew off, back towards the house where he planned to spend his ‘rest’ day doing exactly that and not wasting precious time on someone who was too ungrateful to accept protection.

Deep in his heart, he had dreaded the future, somehow knowing he would live to regret his decision.

And he did. Regret and shame had become best buddies of the shadowsinger, following him around more closely than his shadows did. If only he had not listened to her, he could have saved those beautiful wings he wished he had the chance to cherish.

But thinking about his shortcomings and faults was not going to help him today, so he pushed those thoughts in the back of his mind, to be picked up and inspected later. For now he needed to focus.

What’s your problem with me?

Why do you not like me?

Why do you always fight with me?

How can I make it up to you?

Azriel repeated the words in his head as he marched towards the edge of the ring, pushing his shoulders back and lifting his wings. Eyes focused, fists clenched.

When he was almost upon the two, Y/n turned, lips parted as if mid-sentence. She stared at him, dissecting each part of him with just a glance. Disarming him with just a glance.

And all words flew out of Azriel’s head. The only that remained were extremely unhelpful.

She’s beautiful.

No, what was it?

How’s your problem with me?

"Hey, Az."

Azriel blinked, nodding at Cassian, not missing the sight of the smirk on his brother’s face as he stood. Cassian ignored the lack of words from Azriel and walked closer, clapping him on the shoulder and leaning in to whisper. "Lover boy finally got balls?"

Azriel shot him a sharp glare, pulling his shadows closer to himself. "Shut up."

Cassian grinned lazily, lifting his hands placatingly before walking off, whistling an infuriating tune.

The same one Azriel had mentioned reminded him of Y/n.

Asshole.

Azriel watched Cassian disappear through the archway into the dim interior of the starwell, swallowing, before turning back to Y/n, who was drawing her legs back up over the edge, beginning to stand.

Those thighs-

"Wait-" She paused, glancing at him. Azriel swallowed, feeling his stomach flip and trying his best to ignore it as he moved closer to Y/n. "I wanted to talk."

"To me?" She mumbled, brows raised. Her voice did things to him, as it always did, but the surprise in her voice distracted Azriel.

"Well, do you see anyone else here?"

She scowled, lowering her legs back down and letting them swing. "I have no obligation to listen to you, you know. Being nice would do you a favour."

Azriel sighed, settling down next to her, faintly noting how the sun was hitting her back, making her hair look a shade lighter. He also noted the way she was squinting to see, peering up at him.

That wouldn’t do.

He spread his wings, lifting them slightly until she was sitting in their shadow. He did not miss the quick glance she shot behind her, nor did he miss the slight widening of her eyes and faint blush on her cheeks.

That could be from sitting in the sun too long,but Azriel liked to think the reason for her blushing was him.

"I’m sorry."

She hummed, turning her head to stare down at the city. "What did you want to say?"

"I…" he paused wondering how to go about this, then decided it would be best to get straight to the point, seeing as Y/n herself had mentioned, she had no obligation to listen to him and could very well walk away if he beat around the bush. "I just wanted to know why you dislike me so much."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I’d like to know and maybe apologise. I’m tired of this- this cat and mouse chase."

She snorted. "What’s the point in apologising if you have to ask me about the mistake you made?"

Azriel looked down at his lap, chagrined as much as he was frustrated. "I cannot remember what I did, I am sorry. Please tell me?"

Surprise flickered over Y/n’s beautiful features before she straightened, clearing her throat. "Oh, um… you said please."

Azriel raised a brow. "And?"

"I didn’t think you would, this is a surprise."

Immediately, Azriel felt his lips turn down at the corners. "You’re so funny."

She smiled coyly, the fire in her eyes was at complete odds with it. "Do you or do you not-"

"Fine, fine. I’m sorry."

She huffed, shaking her head. "Now you’ve annoyed me and I don’t want to tell you."

Frustration bubbled over, and Azriel pushed to his feet, glaring at her when she tilted her head back, confused. "Have a good day, Y/n."

He turned away, knowing he should stay and let her bully him to her heart’s content, but telling her, again and again, how he wanted to repent and make things up to her, being vulnerable enough to let her take jabs at him and not fight back was unfamiliar. It made unease crawl under his skin.

It made him worry that if he let his mask drop enough to make her comfortable talking about what had bothered her, she’d see how weak, how pathetic he was and be disgusted.

Maybe this whole plan was useless, pathetic.

"Az- wait!" He paused, glancing back at her. "I’m sorry, I went too far."

Azrie ducked his head in a shallow nod, looking away from her.

"You were trying to make things right and I- I’m sorry."

Azriel shook his head. "It’s fine. You have the right to-"

"That’s right! I do." Brows raised, Azriel turned back to her, surprised at the sudden change in her tone. "You did the worst thing ever to me and never apologised. I have the right to be angry."

Azriel swallowed, nodding. "I shouldn’t have left that day. I should have apologised and begged for forgiveness sooner."

When she didn’t say anything Azriel lifted his head, scared of her reaction. But she simply stared at him, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about? Shouldn’t have left where? When?"

"Your wings? This is about that, no?"

Her eyes widened, lips parting. "Oh my- mother, no! Not at all, no, Azrie! Why would I ever- you dumb male, I would never hold something like that over you!"

Azriel swallowed again, unable to look away from her. "Then- why not? If I hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have lost them-"

"And maybe I would have lost something more precious. Everything happens for a reason. Maybe if I hadn’t lost my wings that day, Rhys wouldn’t have made rules to ban wing clipping his priority. I do not care about that. I am not mad about that. What I am mad about is far more important than that."

Azriel blinked, shifting on his legs. "Oh… then what made you dislike me, if not that?"

She rolled her eyes before poking him in the chest. "You fucking stole my teddy bear and pushed me after you did."

Azriel blinked, then blinked again. "I- what?"

"And you still haven’t given it back to me."

Azrie’s lips parted, then closed, then opened again. At this point, he was trying to remember if someone had mixed up some sort of drug in his food, because what in the hell?

"I- I don’t remember."

She huffed, wrapping her arms around herself. It took all of Azriel’s willpower to not look. "Of course you don’t remember, asshole. I was playing with my toy, and you snatched it from me, and when I fell, you didn’t even help me up."

Azriel stared at her, incredulity dripping from his voice as he tried to hold in a snort but failed. "Y/n, are you being serious?"

She scowled, pushing him back. "Stop laughing. I am being serious."

"I’m not laughing!" Despite the words, Azriel’s lips twitched, lifting.

She huffed, turning away. Azrel instantly felt bad, so he lunged to grab her hand, tugging lightly.

"Sorry, sorry. I will get you that teddy back, yeah?"

Y/n peered at him, frown still in place. "What if you don’t?"

"I will."

The burn of a mark made Azriel wince, making him pull back the lapels of his shirt. There, over his left pectoral, was a small mark in the shape of a bear. Just amazing.

"Hmm. I believe you, then."

Azriel refrained from rolling his eyes, feeling himself break out in a fond smile. "So am I forgiven?"

"Give me a reason to forgive you."

"I’ll get you three new teddy bears."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

He nodded dutifully, placing a hand over his heart. "Really."

She smiled then, the sight ethereal, almost otherworldly in its beauty. Azriel couldn’t help but stare at her lips. They were so- so beautiful, mesmerising, he wanted to-

No. Stop.

He forced himself to look up into her eyes, his focus finally shifting to his rapidly beating heart. He could almost win a racing competition, he was sure.

Y/n smirked at him, a knowing look in her eyes before she turned, heading to the stairwell, and this time, Azriel said nothing, just watched her go.

Right before she disappeared through the archway, though, she paused, glancing back. "By the way, I never disliked you. It was just funny seeing you squirm. See you later, shadowsinger!"

Azriel blinked. So all that… effort, for nothing?

She’s funny.

A shadow whispered.

Mother help me.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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