#sorry for not posting that much. I’ll try to post more often

[harmonyrae]

Ivy League

Fall Semester: Sophomore Year🍁🍂🎃🏈 

Premise: Based on this post by PomeRinn aka @waterrinmelonn. All the boys are modern rich international kids going to a prestigious university. They’re attending Yale, an Ivy League University in the American Northeast. They're all the same age. My FMC will end up with only one of them in the end.

Content Warnings: Mildly Suggestive & Explicit Language. Some fluff. Some angst. Slow burn in its purest form. Underage drinking. FMC is drugged (she’s okay, unharmed) but please be aware of your own triggers while reading. 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 7.6k (oh lord it's a long one)

Part One Part Two

“You’re sure we got assigned to Lawrance Hall? Like, 100% sure?”

“Hun, I emailed and called, we are in Lawrance Hall this year. Same room, no overbooking, we’re good babe!” Tara sighs as she reassures you for the 100th time. 

Finding out you’re changing dorms was stressful enough as it is, but getting assigned to the hall that caused you insane anxiety last year made you even more on edge. Thankfully, Tara was on top of things and joined you in calling Student Housing to double, triple, quadruple check. 

“My flight got delayed, so I will be arriving a few hours later than I expected. Are you and Caleb already on campus?” 

You look over at the driver seat, Caleb had changed quite a bit over the summer. He started an amateur basketball league at the country club. He only ever used his parent’s membership to the club for the gym anyways, so he decided to do something for the community. He often held practice outside, so he was tan and much leaner than before break. 

You had your own tan lines given your summer job as a lifeguard at the same club. You’d been going with Caleb to the club since before you were able to swim and knew the staff well. When they offered you the job, you were ecstatic. A chance to save up some money and get a tan at the same time? Deal of the century. 

“Hello? Are you still there?” Tara’s voice brings you back.

“Sorry, yeah. We just arrived. Caleb is still trying to find a parking space to unload my shit.”

“He’s moving into the frat house, right?”

“Yup, he’s going full frat bro.” Caleb rolls his eyes and scoffs. “You’re literally wearing your hat backwards right now.”

He immediately swivels his hat around. You break into a fit of giggles as you hear Tara begging for a picture on the other end of the call. Caleb finds a spot and backs in, waving to the parking attendant before getting out. 

“Did Sylus or Zayne ever get back to you?” 

“Not yet, I think Zayne is still with his cousins and Sylus is on a plane.”

“I can’t believe they got assigned to Lawrance Hall too. If they’re on the same floor, I’m buying a lottery ticket.” A voice echos through her phone announcing a departure. “Oop, that’s my flight! I’ll see you in a few hours bestie!” 

After wishing her safe travels, you hang up and join Caleb who had just successfully convinced the parking attendant to let him stay parked for 30 minutes.

“Thanks man. We’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”

Thankfully you’re not on the fourth floor this year so the trek back and forth wasn’t as miserable. Second floor, right at the end of the hall by the stairwell door. Your room is a tiny bit bigger and has a decent view. The shared bathroom with the room next door would take some getting used to. It was nice you didn’t have to share the showers with the whole floor, but until you meet your neighbors you can’t say that with full confidence.  

“Alright Pips, I think that’s it.” He takes off his hat and smoothes back his sweat slick hair. 

“You’re sure you don’t want me to help you move in?”

Caleb pulls you into a sweaty side-hug making your squirm.

“I’m sure. The house is going to be super busy and I know you get anxious.”

He’s right. A chaotic frat house with a bunch of sweaty guys running around? No thanks. 

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything. We’re still meeting for dinner with the gang, right?”

He nods and you walk him out, waving him off when he shouts something about ‘behaving.’ When you return to your room you focus on getting your bed made up and finding your corkboards. You spent the last week printing out pictures and making collages to hang up. You had an impressive collection, pictures from your first Yale football game, movie night in the Commons, fencing tournaments, your first published piece in the Yale student paper and a whole board dedicated to three special felines. 

You’d be hounding Zayne for updates when he arrived, Galen is probably so big now. You follow the Instagrams for the girls who adopted Lilith and Dream. It warmed your heart that they kept the sisters together. Sadly, Zayne’s cousin doesn’t have any social media so you can’t keep an eye on the little cheesepuff. As you pin the board to the wall, you giggle at the photo of Sylus with Galen on his head. It was the only time Galen was calm during the entire roadtrip to DC. You’re glad the foster agreed to let you, Tara, Zayne and Sylus transport Galen to his temporary home with Zayne’s cousin over Spring Break. Spending a week in DC was also a fun time. 

You fluff your pillows and toss another throw blanket over the bottom of your bed before flinging yourself down to take a breather. It’s only then you realize the afternoon sun is shining directly onto your bed. Sitting up, you look for the string to the blinds, you knew you should have brought curtains.

The ledge of the window is wide enough for you to prop your foot up and possibly stand for a minute or two. Just long enough to grab the cord and lower them. Taking a precarious step forward, you wedge the toe of your sneaker into one of the grooves of the radiator and hold onto the walls on either side of the window to balance yourself. You’re about to hoist yourself up onto the ledge when the door to the bathroom opens into your room.

Tara’s going to need that lottery ticket.

“What on earth are you trying to do?” Zayne rushes over to yank you back. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

Leaping away from the wall, you throw your arms around him.

“Zayne! When did you get here? Where did you come from? How’s Galen?”

“I can only answer one question at a time.” You let him go and let him reach up to grab the cord himself, easily lowering the blinds and darkening the room. 

Flipping on a lamp, you sit on your bed and pat the space next to you. As soon as Zayne sits you begin your interrogation. 

“Okay, when did you get here?” 

“I arrived from DC at noon and spent an hour in traffic. Luckily, the taxi driver was a quiet man so I got caught up on my reading. I arrived in my dorm room about fifteen minutes ago.”

“So how did you get in here? Are you on the same floor?”

He glances at the bathroom door, which he left wide open. When you look over, you can see straight through to the adjoining room. Where his backpack sits on the bed. You stare at him, then back through the door, then back at him.

“No way.” 

“I’ll have to talk to a member of Student Housing. They usually don’t allow this kind of arrangement.” He offers.

“Every semester it’s something else! Last year they put me in the wrong room, this year they put us in adjoining rooms with a shared bathroom! I’m sorry, I like you, Zayne, but I don’t want to share a bathroom with you and Sylus!”

“I understand, I will find a member of staff immediately.” You grab his arm to stop him from standing. “What?”

“I want to hear about Galen first…” 

He questions your priorities, but shifts on the bed to get more comfortable as he divulges more info about Galen. He pulls out his phone to show new pictures, sending a few to you so you can update your picture board. Eventually, you discuss his class schedule, his plans to volunteer at the shelter again, how his summer went. The sun was setting before you knew it. 

“I’ll find someone to ask about the room situation and meet you at the dining hall in around 30 minutes.” 

You thank Zayne and return your focus to getting the room set up. Your mom had bought you a skincare fridge and you were itching to stock it. A clatter and squeal alerts you to the arrival of your roommate. You turn just in time to brace yourself for impact. 

“Oh my god! I’m never getting on a plane again.” You grunt as she squeezes you tighter. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Tara.” She lets you go and you stretch your back from where she squeezed a little too tight.

She drops her bags off on the other bed, examining the room and stopping at the open bathroom door. She doesn’t say a word before running through to the other room. You call out and chase after her. When you enter the other room you’re greeted with a sight for sore eyes. Tara clings to Sylus, her arms wrapped around his waist while his arms are raised, clearly unprepared for this attack hug. 

“Yes hello, I missed you, Tara.” 

He looks up and gives you a once over, smiling. 

“Missed you too, kitten.”

He must have gotten extra sun this summer too. His hair is even more of a contrast against his tanned skin. His go-to tank top and jean combo still suits him, but he has more accessories now. A chain on his belt, bracelets, rings on almost every finger. And best - or worst, depending on your sanity - of all, fresh ink swirling down his right arm. Tara lets him go and grabs his hand, twisting his arm so she can get a better look at it. 

“This is so cool! When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago, I wanted it to be mostly healed before returning to campus.”

You take a step forward and get a closer look. You can only make out scales and shadows, too caught up in how the ink thins at his wrist, circles his arm, covers his bicep, crawls up his shoulder and drops down his back. The question is on the tip of your tongue, but you know it’s a bad idea. Tara beats you to it.

“How far does it go?”

Sylus responds exactly like you think he would, he pulls his shirt over his head and turns. While your cheeks are on fire, you can make out the design a bit better. It’s a dragon. Its body continues to spiral down his back and over his ribcage, its wings folded against its back. You can’t see the end of the tail as it disappears below his waistband.

“Use your imagination for the rest.” Tara slaps his arm and you momentarily black out. 

“Wait, it’s not normal to share a bathroom with guys like this, right?” Tara walks through the bathroom, realizing the set up.

“No, Zayne is finding someone to talk to about it.”

“Zayne’s already here! Oh my god!” Tara jumps up and down. “I’m texting Rafayel and Xavier, I need to see all my boys together again.” 

She skips off into your room, leaving you alone with a shirtless Sylus. He’s made no significant effort to put his shirt back on and you’re about 10 seconds away from blacking out again. 

“You look good.” He noted. “Spent your summer in the sun, did you?” 

You bite your lip and hold your breath as you turn to face him. He fiddles with his shirt, his muscles twitching as he maintains eye contact. 

“Yeah. Worked as a lifeguard. Helped with swimming lessons too… uhm… What about you? You look…” God, you’re awkward. “... Good. You look good too. Tan. I mean.”

Sylus tilts his head, lips twisting into a smirk. He takes a step closer.

“Stayed with my uncle at his beach house in Busan. Helped him fix up his vintage car. I visited my mom in Moscow during the rainy season. Joined her for a few outings to the beaches there.”

Another step.

“I am glad you stayed in touch.”

Another step.

“Well, yeah, someone had to convince you not to name that bird of yours ‘Shadow-Dragon’.”

He grins, eyeing you. 

“He was going through a phase. Seemed fitting.” 

He’s much closer now, if you didn’t know better you’d think…

“Dinner in 10 minutes! Come on! Oh my god Sylus, put your shirt back on. Show off…” Tara calls over her shoulder as she returns to her room. 

You stare at your feet, waiting for him to take a step back.

“I’m going to change. Got all sweaty moving in. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

You don’t wait for him to reply, just spin and race back to your room. Why are you being so awkward? You were calm, cool and collected all summer while messaging him and now? Sure, he couldn’t see how you buried your head in your pillow and screamed in frustration over what to say, but you thought you had reigned in your emotions. 

Dinner was only awkward for about .5 seconds, as soon as Rafayel arrived he was raving over Sylus’s tattoo and critiquing Zayne’s hair. You hadn’t realized before, but Zayne grew out his hair. It was a good look for him, more casual, less preppy. Caleb didn’t waste anytime hyping up his fraternity, praising the cooking staff, the private pool access, the bigger rooms. He brought his roommate, Gideon, who immediately clicked with Tara. They chatted most of the night, barely paying attention to Caleb’s performance. You knew exactly what he was doing since he practiced his pitch on you on the drive back to campus.

“Finley told me to have someone in mind to tap as soon as I get back. He said the earlier the better since Sigma Chi had lower recruitment the past few semesters. And 20% graduated in May.” He mused. “What do you think Rafayel and Sylus would say if I tapped them?” 

At first, you laughed, but then you weren’t so sure. Rafayel might enjoy the challenge of being more social. He’d mentioned he was far too comfortable last year, didn’t try to branch out and try new things. Sylus, on the other hand, was a wild card. Could go either way. So when Caleb arrived in the dining hall, you knew he’d be in salesman mode. 

“Sigma Chi has the best parties and social standing, sure, but there’s a lot more. They host private sporting events, and have internal teams. Finley already offered me a co-captain position on his basketball team. Next week we’re doing a fundraiser for members' tuition fund. There’s also a shit ton of networking opportunities - we might be sophomores but it’s never too early to think about life after college.”

“Caleb, you sound like an infomercial.” Zayne grumbles.

“I’m just making sure Rafayel and Sylus know all the benefits to joining.”

“Well, I’m down.” Rafayel pipes up. “Could serve as inspiration for a collection. The ‘reality of a frat bro’ - vivid colors, hidden elements. I like it.”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Doesn’t seem like I would really be a good fit.” Sylus counters.

“No, you definitely would. There’s a few engineering majors who invested in renovating the basement into a workshop. They won’t even let me in without a welding mask.”

Sylus is instantly more attentive. 

“Should have led with that Caleb.” You snicker as he back-tracks to go over how tapping works.

🍁🍂🎃🏈 

You hit the ground running this semester, less anxious than last year. Still undeclared, but taking more classes you actually enjoy. Other than Biology, math and science are not your strong suits. But with Zayne next door, you breeze through your first exam. Rafayel is in the same class and after nearly failing he finally admits defeat and asks Zayne for help. 

“Please don’t make me ask again.” Rafayel mumbles.

“I just want to make sure I heard you correctly.” Zayne flips the pages of his textbook as if Rafayel’s not even there. 

Rafayel sighs and leans closer to Zayne.

“Oh great and powerful master of science and medicine, might you consider tutoring me so biology is no longer the bane of my existence and cause of my despair?” 

Tara spits out her soup, barely grabbing a napkin in time to save her sweater. Zayne looks up, peering over his glasses. 

“When is your class held?”

“Monday, Wednesday, Friday - 2pm.”

“You’ll arrive at the library at 5:30pm on Wednesdays for exactly 2 hours of tutoring along with Y/N. If you’re late, there’s a fee.” 

“A fee?!”

“For every 5 minutes you’re late, you get a tally. If you rack up 10 tallies you have to buy me a premium chocolate box from Durfee Sweet Shop.”

“Those are like, $50 each!”

“Don’t be late then.” Zayne concludes. 

Rafayel has never been more punctual. He could afford the chocolate, but the thought of spending $50 on sweets made him irrationally angry. Wednesday quickly became your favorite day of the week. Rafayel argued that there was no real reason to memorize the differences between bacteria, viruses, and fungi. Zayne argued that understanding the differences is actually a very important element of health and wellness. You just sat there, sipping your coffee, enjoying the break. 

Thursday evenings were still reserved for Fencing Club. Xavier was determined to have you  putting down the foil for a sabre before the end of the semester. The idea of moving from a structured fight to something more fast paced was an exciting prospect, but you weren’t sure you’d be ready. Xavier, however, was persistent, more so than usual.

“And… flunge! There we go, excellent. Stop laughing!”

You don’t mean to, but the term itself and Xavier’s accent is too funny. Xavier advances without warning and you jump, barely escaping Xavier’s sabre. He doesn’t yield the right-of-way when you successfully parry, instead opting to pursue you further, forcing you to hop down off the mat. 

“Xavier!” 

You scramble to right yourself as he continues to lunge and thrust his blade. Your back hits the wall and the point of Xavier’s blade dives straight into the wall beside your head. You scream and stare at Xavier, both of you trying to catch your breath. 

“Always stand your ground, even if your opponent is trying to advance and take over your space. Don’t let them. Don’t wait for the perfect moment to take control, trust your instincts and just do it. You can’t remain in defense mode forever.” 

His words dig a little too deep. He’s talking about fencing, right?

For the rest of practice, he focuses on your footwork. His attitude is noticeably more somber and you chase after him when practice ends. The leaves have just begun to change, the wind making you shiver as it blows through your hair. You reach Xavier right before he heads into his dorm. He avoids eye contact, choosing to stare at his shoes.

“Xavier. What’s going on? You’ve never been that aggressive with me before.”

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.” You stay quiet, waiting for more. “I… I usually train when I get overwhelmed. My coaches would push me around just so I could fight back. I got stronger while blowing off steam. I shouldn’t have pushed you, I’m sorry, truly.”

“Why are you overwhelmed? Classes?”

He shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Got a letter from my uncle.”

“Oh…” You shuffle closer. “Did something happen?”

“My parents want me to come home for the holidays.”

If a letter asking him to visit for the holidays is enough to make Xavier feel like this, his relationship with his parents must be worse than you thought. You follow him to a bench to sit. He scoots closer to you, sharing his warmth.

“I haven’t seen my parents in almost 7 years. Going home… I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.” He smiles, pleased with your quick response and subtle anger. “You don’t owe them anything. You should celebrate the holidays with people who make you happy.” 

“You have a good relationship with your family, I’m guessing.”

“It’s decent. Not perfect though. I know I don’t know your situation, I shouldn’t assume.”

He shakes his head.

“You’re not wrong, I guess I’m just… not ready to face them yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”

You put your arm around his shoulders and rest your head against his. He leans into your touch, taking a deep breath, a cloud of hot air billowing out of his mouth into the cold. It’s not until your ass is numb from the frigid metal bench that you let go. He thanks you and you invite him to the next study session with Rafayel and Zayne.

“Watching Rafayel crash out over DNA sequencing should put a smile on your face.”

He agrees before shuffling inside. 

You’ve always been a fixer, wanting to help your friends and family with whatever they’re going through. Even if it means sacrificing your wellbeing. You know it’s not the healthiest thing to do, but it’s almost like you’ve been programmed that way. You spent most of your childhood helping Caleb through his teen angst. And no with Xavier, you can help him feel better, distract him. With Rafayel, you can study with him. Zayne, you simply knock on his door and hand him a cup of Jasmine tea. Sylus is a bit trickier. He hasn’t told you much about his family life and can be a bit hard to read. But when it comes to keeping a hall full of angry students from bashing down his door at 3am, yeah, you can help with that.  

CAW CAW CAW CAW

You roll over and moan, already hearing Tara jump out of bed in a fury. She swings open the bathroom door and barges through, slamming her fist on the door to Sylus and Zayne’s room.

“Sylus I swear to god!”

You stumble out of bed and waddle through the bathroom just as Zayne opens the door, eyes heavy with sleep, his soundproof headphones hung around his neck. He mumbles something, but you just pat his shoulder and shuffle past him. Someone begins knocking on their main door and Tara takes the lead on damage control for tonight. You pull Zayne’s desk chair from across the room to Sylus’s desk, where he’s hunched over his crow. His fingers shake as he tries to maneuver the tiny chip into place. 

“Did you eat dinner?” You shout over the incessant cawing. 

He shakes his head and you open the top drawer of his desk to grab a granola bar. You open it and hold it up to his mouth. He doesn’t take his eyes off the chip, but does take a bite. When the chip finally slides into place, the cawing ceases and the crowd outside his door disperses. Except for Becket and Tiffany, the floor RAs, who begrudgingly enter the room to issue Sylus his second warning. 

“Sylus, you’ve got to stop working on this in the middle of the night. If you get one more warning, we’ll have to kick you out of the dorm. So please… just go to bed…”

They leave in a huff, slamming the door behind them. Sylus stares at the bird on his desk, half a granola bar in his mouth. The skin under his eyes is darker, like he hasn’t been sleeping at all. You hear Tara say something about going back to sleep and Zayne puts his headphones back on and curls up into a ball in his bed. 

“Sy?” He nods, acknowledging you. “Why can’t you sleep?” 

This gets his attention. He looks over, frowning when he sees your exhausted expression. 

“You’re not coming to dinner as often either. So, I’m not moving from this chair until you tell me what’s wrong so I can help.” 

He snorts and you pinch your lips together. Adorable. 

“You’ll be sitting there all night, kitten.”

“Then you better get me one of those energy drinks you’re hiding from Zayne.”

“It’s not your job to fix everything, you know?”

You know that, but you’re going to try anyway.

“But I can listen.”

And there you sat, all night, sipping on a sugary energy drink and eating granola bars until the early morning hours. Not everything he talked about was necessarily related to his “problem” but you could see the relief in his eyes as he vented.

He revealed that his father has been relentlessly messaging him about returning to Seoul. Telling him he should have enrolled in Seoul National University to study business. Criticizing every choice he makes: where he spent his summer, wasting his money on tattoos or ‘toy robots.’ His dad has no idea who his son is or what he cares about. 

“Usually, I don’t give a shit. It’s just been non-stop the past few days. I bought a burner just to avoid his calls. How fucked is that? Having to buy a goddamn burner phone so your father doesn’t call you during class?”

It’s around 7am when the sun peaks over the horizon, casting a hazy glow through the window. You’d moved to sit at the end of his bed since the Yale-provided desk chair had started to bruise your ass. At some point, Sylus had laid down, his head next to your thigh. When you woke up to Zayne’s alarm, his head had shifted to your lap, your fingers woven through his hair. You yanked your hand back to your chest and carefully slid a pillow under his head before climbing down off of his bed. Zayne had already spotted you, his arms crossed, silently judging you. 

“Don’t look at me like that. He’s sleeping and the bird is quiet. Take that as a win.” 

You’re not sure how you survived classes that day, but when you got back to your dorm Sylus was still fast asleep. You knew it’d be hell getting caught up on classwork, but he needed the sleep. And helping him study is a problem you can actually help with, unlike his situation with his asshole of a father. But you find yourself imagining what you’d say to the man if you ever met.

🍁🍂🎃🏈 

“Please tell me you guys are on your way. Please. Please please please.”

You shouldn’t be laughing, it’s not funny that you’re running late to the party. But Caleb has never been so anxious about a party in… well, ever. Clearing your throat, you steady your voice.

“If you had joined us, you could have micromanaged everything yourself.” He all but growls. “Tara is helping Rafayel with his makeup. We should be on our way in about 15 minutes.” 

Caleb groans, that was not what he wanted to hear.

“Just call me when you get here. I’ll get you past the line.”

“There’s a line?” You sputtered.

“It’s the Sigma Chi Halloween party, of course there’s a line! We’re the only frat that hosts a part on Halloween night. Everyone else hosts parties over the weekend. There’s already over 100 people downstairs.”

“Shit!” You squeal. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.”

You hang up and skip into the bathroom where Zayne and Xavier are getting ready. Xavier is more keeping Zayne company while he fights with his hair, he was the first to be ready. His costume was more a non-costume costume. Jeans, sneakers, a white t-shirt and a navy bomber jacket with a big NASA pin on the chest. The “casual astronaut” he called it. He just didn’t want to make a big fuss over an outfit he’d only wear once. Practical as ever.

“Zayne, are you sure you don’t need my help?” You offer.

He drops the comb to the counter, staring at his reflection. Putting on his glasses he turns to face you and raises his brow.

“Do you really think this is a good costume for me?”

You know he’s frustrated, but with his hair standing on end he looks like a different person. Add the glasses and sure enough, that’s Doctor Who alright. The blue suit he found at the thirst store is slightly oversized making the costume even better. Thanks to Sylus, he had a red tie and red converse. And he already owned a beige trench coat. You’d have to beg him to say ‘Allons-y’ at least once for Snapchat.

“You look perfect, Doctor.” 

His eyes brightened, a blush spreading over his cheeks. He’s working his ass off to become a real doctor, tonight he gets to just have fun but still kinda technically be one. You pat his shoulder as you continue into the other room. Tara is basically straddling Rafayel to get his eyeliner just right. You choke back a laugh and walk over to observe. 

“Tara, if you poke my eye one more time I swear to god…” She shushes him.

“How’s it going?” You inquire and Tara sighs.

“I’m almost done, just another… swipe… here…”

Rafayel wiggles and Tara slaps him, not hard enough to do damage but he still acts as though he’s been stabbed. He might be annoyed now, but he does look amazing. One eye smudged with red, the other smudged with blue, pointed curves of matching eyeliner dripping down his cheeks. Tara takes a tissue and smudges the lipstain on his lips so the corners of his mouth extend out. The purple in his hair had faded, making it the perfect time to add the red and blue temp dye. His costume was just as impressive as the makeup. An exact replica of the t-shirt from the movie, a thick sweater half red and blue, ripped blue jeans and a leather harness connected to his belt and choker. Top tier costume right here. He’d also painted a plastic bat since the frat wouldn’t allow real bats for safety reasons.

“Holy shit, Rafayel, you look incredible.”

Tara holds up a mirror and Rafayel grins, a cocky smile forming.

“Okay, Tara, I forgive you for stabbing me in the eye.” Tara hauls herself off his lap. 

“I need to apply my lashes and then we are good to go!” 

She runs back into your shared room. You couldn’t wait to get pictures together, the last person you matched with on Halloween was Caleb and there’s no chance he could pull off what Tara’s wearing. Black leather shorts, fishnet tights, a black velvet corset, chunky heels - all pulled together with a set of black devil horns and matching wings. The devil to your angel. 

You’re glad your mom and dad aren’t here, they’d never let you out of the house like this. A white mini skirt, thigh high white socks, a strapless white lace corset with a thick satin ribbon lacing up the back, white strappy heels. Your white wings and fluffy halo, in perfect contrast with Tara. It’s not that revealing, but it’s still the sexiest Halloween costume you’ve ever worn. 

Rafayel stands and crouches next to Sylus’s desk, where Sylus is typing away on his laptop. 

“Are they staying in?” 

“Haven’t fallen out for 30 minutes, so I think we’re in the clear.” Sylus said, his voice slightly off.

“So everyone’s ready then?” You ask.

Sylus closes his laptop and turns around in his chair. Oh how you wish you had been recording to capture his reaction. His eyes were already a main feature, but tonight they were even more intense with black liner smudged into sharp wings. So when his eyes widened, they damn popped out of his skull. His mouth literally dropped open, his gaze lingering over your bare shoulders, down to the little bows at the top of your socks against your thighs. For all the times you’ve been lost for words when looking at him, it was nice having it reversed for a change.

“Ahh… I wasn’t expecting… I thought - ahem - you look amazing, kitten.”

You could spot the fake fangs when he smiled, the little lisp he has thanks to the cosmetic piece is making your brain fuzzy. His costume was not too different from his everyday attire, maybe a tad more luxurious. Fitted suit pants, dress shoes, a red silk shirt unbuttoned so low you questioned your morals, and the amount of jewelry…

“Are you wearing every single piece of your jewelry collection?”

He stands, his hands held up as he examines them. 

“Pretty much. Is it too much?” You shake your head.

How you’re just now realizing his hair is slicked back is beyond you, but fuck he looks fantastic. Rafayel steps into your peripheral and crosses his arms.

“If you two are done flirting, we have a party to get to.”

You shoot a glare in his direction and he cackles, ignoring your fury. He heads for the bathroom and you can hear him rallying the troops to head out. Sylus stops at his dresser to pick up a tube of fake blood. He’s about to dab some to the corner of his mouth when you stop him.

“Wait! Use lipstain, it’ll last longer and you can eat and drink with it on.” You pick up the lipstain Tara left behind, offering it to him.

“Could you help me apply it? Seems like you’re more familiar with it than I am.”

He sits back on his desk and you slowly approach him while unscrewing the cap. You gently hold his chin while you swipe the product over the corner of his mouth, letting a small drop drip down. You realize you’re all but staring at his lips, reveling in his smoky scent and allowing your imagination to run wild. Even if it’s just for a moment. You feel Sylus’s hand on your hip and your eyes flick up to meet his. His lips part, as if he’s about to say something, but he stops himself, hesitates. Before he gets another chance, Tara is bounding into the room.

“We are lea– oh… I am interrupting something fantastic, I’ll go!” 

You back away from Sylus and grab her wrist. 

“No no no! I was just adding the final touches to his costume, we’re ready to go.”

You drag her behind you, leaving Sylus behind as you return to your room to grab your phone. Caleb will lose his shit if you all don’t get to the house soon.

🍁🍂🎃🏈 (Trigger Warning relates to this chapter)

The house was literally packed with people when you arrived. True to his word, Caleb helped everyone skip the line and get into the main house. You recognized his Top Gun jumpsuit and Aviators, he’d worn it last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. Obsessed is not a strong enough word for how he feels about Tom Cruise and that movie. 

Of course he gave you shit about your costume, but he stopped himself from running to his room to grab a hoodie for you to cover up with. Tara assures him that she’ll keep an eye on you and she’ll personally punch anyone who tries to touch in the throat. 

A few members of the fencing team are members of Sigma Chi, so as soon as they spot Xavier they crowd around him. Xavier has been looking happier recently. Turning up the intensity of your training sessions has helped him mellow out a lot. Sure, you’re so sore you can barely walk to class the next day and you have a few bruises, but you’re happy if he’s happy.

Caleb drags Rafayel and Sylus on a tour of the house while you, Zayne and Tara follow behind. 

“And here’s the sunroom, we have a couple amateur artists who come in here to paint or draw. I’m sure they’d love to get lessons from an actual art major. Our last Bachelor of Arts member graduated in May, so we need more creatives around here!”

Rafayel inspects some of the sketchpads left scattered around the room. He shakes his head, clearly unimpressed, but does occasionally crack a smile. Seems someone has potential. Continuing on, Caleb stops to point down a set of stairs to a metal door.

“Down these stairs is the workshop I mentioned. Luke and Kieran said they’d show you around a little later.”

The house is massive, plenty of rooms to house the members who want to live close to campus. The main kitchen is locked, but a secondary smaller kitchen is busy with people mixing drinks and eating the various appetizers prepared by the staff. Caleb grabs a beer and offers one to the rest of the guys.

“Is there any wine, by chance?” Rafayel asks.

“Actually, yes. Finley is a big wine fan, he should have a couple bottles around here.”

Once Rafayel has his wine, Caleb finds you and leans in so he’s not shouting over the crowd.

“If you want to try beer, you can take a sip from mine. Just don’t –”

“Don’t take a drink from any strange men, I know the drill. I’m good right now. This place is crazy! The pool is the size of a lake!”

Caleb chuckles. Someone calls his name and he promises to return as soon as possible. You watch him run off through the crowd and take a moment to look around. 

Zayne, of course, has found the sweets, but he’s also found someone to chat with. A tall girl, her light brown hair tucked up into a neat bun, her nurse costume only slightly revealing. She is wearing a sweater, which she keeps pulling closed to hide her chest. You can assume the costume choice wasn’t entirely her own. When Zayne smiles and points to a plate of macaroons she lights up, eagerly grabbing one to try. 

Rafayel and Xavier have reunited. If you had to guess, Rafayel is the one who dragged Xavier onto the dance floor. But it looks like they’re actually having fun, so you can’t help but smile. Even though they’re roommates, they haven’t exactly bonded like you and Tara have. When Xavier started joining you and Rafayel for your tutoring sessions, they started getting closer. It was like they were trying to see who could keep a straight face the longest while insulting each other. Zayne has started keeping score, writing down the funniest ones to use on Sylus. 

Speaking of Sylus, you look around and can’t find him. You assume he’s getting that tour of the workshop. Tara stays at your side, taking on the responsibility of socializing for the both of you. Parties are not your thing, even though you attended tons with Caleb in high school. He just had to be Mr. Popular. If it were up to you, you’d be curled up in bed with popcorn watching Halloweentown. But you wanted to at least try to be more social, try new things, meet people. 

As soon as Gideon showed up, Tara was fidgety. You could tell she wanted to hang out with him, but that would mean leaving you alone. 

“Tara, go! I’m fine! Caleb should be back soon.” She squinted at you. “Go! Flirt! Be merry!”

She hugs you before taking Gideon’s hand and following him through the crowd. You watch her for a minute, making sure she’s not being taken to some scary secret room. Gideon stops at the DJ booth and whispers something to the DJ. When the songs change to Tara’s favorite band, you want to applaud. Oh, he’s a keeper. 

You decide to get a drink while you wait. Making your way to the kitchen was a challenge, but once you’re there you huff a sigh of relief. You eye the bottles of booze, a few bottles of soda, a large bowl of punch and a whole keg of beer. You’ve tried beer before, it’s not for you. The punch is just out in the open, who’s idea was that? Hard liqueur scares you, so you play it safe with a soda. You fill up a red cup with ice from a cooler and open a new bottle. As you sip the cool beverage, you resume your scan of the crowd.

“Don’t start without me dude! Hold up!” 

A guy wearing a cop costume races by you, almost making you spill your drink all over yourself. You lean back and he pushes past. You watch him turn the corner and disappear. 

“Dylan! Watch where you’re going man!” 

A male voice calls out beside you. You turn to face the man, trying to hide the fact he startled you. An attractive blonde stands before you, his hair swoops down over his forehead, brown eyes so dark they’re almost black. He’s dressed as a firefighter, well, half-dressed. He wears the boots and pants, suspenders hang loosely off of his hips and a fireman’s hat sits on his head, but his chest is bare. 

“Sorry about him, Dylan’s always in a rush to get somewhere. I haven’t seen you around here before, have I?”

You clutch your drink to your chest and put on a polite smile. You shake your head.

“Well, I’m Chad, and you are?”

Of course his name is Chad. He’s the most Chad looking Chad you’ve ever seen. He’s a bit forward, but his company is not uncomfortable. You take a sip of your drink before answering. He rests his hip against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest. A marketing major with a scholarship to play baseball for Yale. He’s funny, but not that interesting. 

“Hey, is there a bathroom nearby?” Your chest feels tight, usually that’s a sign of a panic attack coming. You just need a few minutes to yourself. “I just need a second.” 

He guides you to the bathroom and follows you inside. Before you can tell him to leave, a hand reaches in and grabs him, yanking him back, hard. You gasp, stepping back through the door to see Chad on the floor. When you look up, you find Sylus standing over him. Your eyes widen, confused by his sudden appearance. 

“Fucking prick!” Chad stands and gets in Sylus’s face. 

You open your mouth to try to defuse the situation, but instead, you immediately turn to launch yourself towards the toilet. Emptying the contents of your stomach in the most painful way. Your sides ache from the force and you gasp for air. A hand suddenly pulls your hair away from your face and you see Tara kneel down beside you. You can’t even ask her what’s happening, your eyes watering as you heave once more.

Zayne’s voice echoes through the bathroom. You see his hazy figure through tearfilled eyes lifting the cup you left on the bathroom counter up to his nose. 

“I don’t smell anything.” There’s an edge to his voice. “I’ll carry her.”

Before you can try to speak again, Zayne is lifting you up. The pretty brunette he was talking to earlier drapes his coat over you and holds your cup carefully. Zayne carries you out of the bathroom with Tara and the other woman close behind. 

The house is loud, so fucking loud. There’s shouts and grunts and swearing. You hear Caleb’s voice calling out for Sylus, then Rafayel’s calling out for Zayne. Closing your eyes, you try to shut out the noise so you don’t vomit again. You can see flashes of red and blue behind your eyelids just before everything goes black.  

🍁🍂🎃🏈 

You wake up on the bathroom floor, a blanket wrapped around you and a towel rolled up to serve as a pillow. Your throat is dry, your head pounding, stomach cramping sharply. As you try to sit up, you hear Tara’s gentle voice.

“Hey, take it slow. Take a sip.”

She holds a bottle of water to your lips and helps you drink. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth, only made worse by the cool water. You look past Tara to see Rafayel and Xavier curled up on the floor next to Tara’s bed, fast asleep. Rafayel’s face pressed against Xavier’s chest, his makeup smeared onto Xavier’s jacket.

“What’s going on?” You rasp. 

She hands you the water bottle and you sit up a little straighter, leaning back against the wall. Before she gets a chance to explain, Zayne walks in. His costume has been replaced with sweatpants and a hoodie. Tara looks up at him from her position on the floor.

“The Benadryl worked, stopped the hives from spreading and she hasn’t thrown up in an hour.”

Zayne crouches and places the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“Good. Have her drink another bottle of water and then try some crackers. If she gets sick again, we’re going to the hospital.” 

Tara nods and you can’t stop the tears from welling up. The longer it takes them to tell you what’s wrong the more terrified you become. 

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” You beg.

Zayne kneels and looks to Tara, who looks ready to punch a wall.

“We think you were drugged at the party. And it seems you had an allergic reaction. You’ve been in and out for the past few hours.” Zayne explains. 

Zayne’s phone rings and he stands, apologizing as he leaves the room. You’re numb from head to toe. Barely keeping it together. Tara crawls over to sit next to you and puts her arm around you, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Wh-where’s Caleb?”

Tara giggles softly and moves over, pointing into the room behind you. You turn to see Caleb passed out on Zayne’s bed, snoring softly.

“And Sy? Sylus?” 

“Tara, I need to borrow your car.” Zayne re-enters the bathroom and unceremoniously interrupts the conversation. “It’s urgent.”

Tara nods and hurries into your room. You look up at Zayne, taking in his clenched jaw and serious expression. Your stomach drops, which hurts given what it’s been through. 

“Zayne, where’s Sylus?”

He sighs. 

“In jail.” 🍁🍂🎃🏈 

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: (If you'd like to be added to the Ivy League taglist comment a🎓) @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @godoffuckedupcats @klmpun @ariallaisawesome @spidy-spider01 @ankitavminkook @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmutm0 @withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @bubbleteakittyy @stellar-seas @babylilxc @havenhope-art @lly5duck @freddy-2002-blog @sylus-hunter @plzdonutpercieveme @saybeyonce @red-f1sh-blue-f1sh @am-drawings AN: I am trying to be as respectful as possible with the delicate nature of what happened to FMC. In no way am I using what happened for meaningless plot. Sometimes a fixer needs to let others help them & knowing they have friends willing to do so with zero hesitation is extremely important. If you're a fixer, please make sure you're letting others help you and you don't beat yourself up for not being able to "do more."

[pietartss]

Even more pokemon doodles

[konoharfts]

*comes out of the woods like a criptid*

Wow, hey guys! Haven’t been around these parts in *checks calendar* NINE DAYS???

Uhhhh hehe woops! I did NOT mean to be gone that long :P

I swear I had good reason… you’ll see soon 👀👀 (also l i f e has been happening so I haven’t been able to make art as much T~T BUT REJOICE FOR THE DROUGHT IS NEARLY OVER!!!)

Get ready for a big ol lore and art dump post whenever I’m finished writing the AU intro >>:)

[dreamings-free]

Hi

[rmview]

accidentally leaking their relationship, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader  ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys end up leaking their relationship accidentally!

contents — crack, fluff, no warnings.

bang ♡ chan

bang chan was always meticulous about keeping your relationship under wraps. as the leader of stray kids, he knew how quickly rumors could spiral and wanted to protect you from unnecessary scrutiny. but even someone as careful as him could make a mistake.

it happened during one of his famous live broadcasts. chan was sitting in his studio, casually chatting with fans as he fiddled with some tracks on his computer. he was explaining his latest project when a notification popped up on his screen. without thinking, he clicked it, and for a brief second, a picture of the two of you appeared.

it wasn’t anything scandalous — just a selfie of you leaning against his shoulder, both of you smiling softly. but it was enough. the comments exploded almost instantly.

who was that??? is chan dating someone??? did i just see a girl??? that girl was me guys, chill

bang chan’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened. “oh, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck, trying to think fast. “that was… an old picture! a friend sent it to me earlier. sorry about that, everyone!”

he quickly ended the broadcast, his heart racing as he leaned back in his chair. a million thoughts ran through his head — had anyone managed to screenshot it? what would the company say? more importantly, what would you think?

when he called you later to explain, you laughed softly, though he could hear the worry in your voice. “it’s okay, chan. it was bound to happen at some point.”

“no, it’s not okay,” he insisted. “i promised to keep this private for your sake, and i slipped up.”

“you’re human,” you reassured him. “and besides, we’ll handle whatever happens together, right?”

hearing your calm voice eased some of his guilt. “yeah, together,” he said softly. “but i’m still going to be extra careful from now on.”

felix ♡

felix adored you, and while he was determined to keep your relationship private, he sometimes let his excitement get the best of him.

the leak happened when felix was baking cookies during a live broadcast. fans loved his warm, cozy streams, and he often shared stories and tips while he worked. as he was mixing dough, his phone lit up with a message from you. without thinking, he glanced at it and smiled.

“sorry, guys,” he said, holding up the phone. “just got a cute message from…” he froze, realizing what he’d just said, gaze falling to the chat that erupted with curiosity.

from who??? felix, are you hiding something??? who’s the cute message from???

felix’s face turned beet red as he stammered, “uh, from my… my friend! yeah, just a good friend.” he laughed nervously, quickly changing the subject to the cookies.

after the stream, he called you in a panic. “i think i messed up,” he admitted, pacing his room. “i almost said too much!”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “relax, lix. it’s not the end of the world.”

“but i want to protect you from all this,” he said, his voice laced with guilt. “i don’t want you dragged into the spotlight because of me.”

“felix,” you said softly, “i know you’ll do your best. and no matter what happens, i’m not going anywhere.”

his heart melted at your reassurance. “you’re too good to me,” he murmured. “but i’ll be more careful. promise.”

lee ♡ know

lee know was famously private, so the idea of accidentally exposing your relationship was something he had nightmares about. he was cautious, always double-checking everything he posted and keeping personal moments strictly offline.

the slip-up came during a group photoshoot. the boys were filming behind-the-scenes content for fans, and lee know had forgotten that he’d left your bracelet on his wrist. it was subtle — a simple silver band engraved with your initials — but eagle-eyed fans didn’t miss a thing. as the content was uploaded online, surprised comments flooded in.

is that… a couple bracelet??? whose initials are those? lee know, explain yourself!!!!

when he saw the comments later, lee know’s heart sank. he immediately called his manager, working out a way to downplay the situation. “it’s just a gift from a close friend,” he said during a live broadcast, keeping his tone neutral.

later that night, he came over to your place, still visibly upset. “i’m sorry,” he said as soon as you opened the door.

you tilted your head, confused. “for what?”

“for being careless,” he said, holding up his wrist. “i should’ve taken it off before the shoot.”

you smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “minho, it’s okay. it’s just a bracelet. and honestly, i’m kind of proud they noticed — i like seeing you wear it.”

his lips twitched into a small smile. “you’re too understanding.”

“i trust you,” you said simply. “and no matter what happens, i’m not worried.”

lee know wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. “i’ll be more careful next time. but i’m glad you’re not mad.”

“i could never be mad at you,” you teased, making him chuckle softly.

hyun ♡ jin

hyunjin was a hopeless romantic, and his love for you was something he carried with him everywhere. he was cautious about keeping your relationship private but couldn’t help tiny, subtle slips — moments where his affection for you shone through.

the leak happened during a spontaneous live broadcast. hyunjin was lounging on the couch, answering fans’ questions, when someone asked about the small ring on his pinky finger. without thinking, he smiled.

“oh, this?” he held it up, admiring the simple band. “it’s, uh… special to me.”

the chat exploded:

special? like… how??? hyunjin, tell us the truth!!! guys chill that was my anniversary present to him

realizing what he’d done, his eyes widened slightly, and he quickly tried to play it off. “it’s just a good luck charm,” he said with a nervous laugh, switching topics to his latest dance project.

after the live ended, hyunjin flopped onto the couch, groaning into a cushion. he called you immediately, his voice full of guilt. “i messed up. they noticed the ring, and i think they know it’s from you.”

you laughed softly on the other end of the line. “hyunjin, it’s not a big deal. they don’t know for sure.”

“but i feel like i betrayed your trust,” he said, sitting up. “i promised to be careful, and now people might start guessing things.”

“hyunjin,” you said gently, “you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. we’ll handle it together, okay?”

hearing your reassurance made him feel a little better. “i’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured. “but i’ll be more careful — i don’t want anything to put you in a tough spot.”

jeong ♡ in

jeongin was naturally shy, and dating you was something he kept close to his heart. he wanted to protect your privacy, knowing how overwhelming things could get if the public found out. but even he wasn’t immune to slip-ups.

it happened during a group photoshoot. as the members joked around, jeongin absentmindedly pulled out his phone to check a message from you. a staff member teasingly asked, “who’s got your attention so much, innie?”

without thinking, jeongin blushed and muttered, “just my —” he caught himself, but the damage was done. his hyungs immediately caught on, and a few snickered. “your what, jeongin?”

the teasing moment was captured on camera and uploaded to a behind-the-scenes video. fans were quick to pick up on his slip, speculating about who he might be texting.

jeongin panicked when he saw the comments later. “they’re going to figure it out,” he fretted, pacing his room as he called you.

you tried to calm him down. “jeongin, it’s fine. people speculate all the time — it doesn’t mean they know anything for sure.”

“but what if they do?” he asked, his voice small. “i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

you smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it. “i trust you, and i’m not worried. just be yourself, okay? you don’t have to carry this alone.”

his heart swelled at your words. “you’re too good to me,” he said quietly. “i’ll do better — i promise.”

han ♡

han tried to keep your relationship private, but his naturally playful and forgetful nature meant he occasionally slipped up. one of those moments came when he was recording behind-the-scenes content for a vlog.

as he was showing off his desk setup in the dorm, the camera accidentally panned over a sticky note on the wall that read, “love you, idiot - y/n.” fans immediately paused and zoomed in, and the comment section blew up.

who’s y/n??? han has a girlfriend??? explain yourself to our kids, han jisung!!!

han didn’t notice the uproar until much later, when staff informed him about the growing buzz online. his first reaction was pure panic. “what? how did they see that?!”

he went back to the dorm and immediately called you. “i think i messed up big time,” he admitted, pacing nervously. “your name showed up in the vlog, and people are already talking about it.”

you chuckled softly, though you could tell he was freaking out. “jisung, it’s okay. it’s not like they know anything else.”

“but they’ll start digging,” he groaned. “what if they find out more? i hate the thought of you being dragged into this.”

“hey,” you said gently, “we’ll figure it out. i’m not mad, and i trust you to handle it.”

he sighed, sitting down on his bed. “you’re way too understanding, you know that? i’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. you deserve better than this kind of stress.”

hearing the guilt in his voice, you reassured him once more. “i’m not worried, jisung. just promise me you’ll stop beating yourself up about it.”

he smiled, feeling a little better. “promise. i’ll be more careful — for you.”

seung ♡ min

seungmin was always composed and cautious, but even he wasn’t immune to the occasional slip-up. he valued your privacy deeply and did his best to ensure your relationship stayed out of the public eye. however, the unthinkable happened during a live broadcast with the group.

the members were joking around when a fan asked who among them was most romantic. changbin teasingly pointed to seungmin, and someone else chimed in, “yeah, seungmin’s probably the type to write love letters.”

seungmin, caught off guard, laughed and muttered, “well, y/n likes —” he froze mid-sentence, realizing what he’d just said. the room fell silent for a beat before the other members burst out laughing to cover for him.

“who’s y/n, seungmin?” hyunjin teased, but seungmin waved it off, cheeks flushed. “no one! i meant, uh, someone i know…” he mumbled, quickly redirecting the conversation.

after the broadcast ended, seungmin rushed to call you. “i slipped up,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “i said your name. people might connect the dots.”

you chuckled, trying to calm him down. “seungmin, it’s okay. it was an honest mistake.”

“but i promised to protect your privacy,” he argued, guilt evident in his tone. “i don’t want this to affect you.”

“seungmin,” you reassured him, “you’re overthinking it. it’s not like they have any proof. let’s not stress over something we can’t change.”

he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “you’re always so calm about these things. i don’t deserve you.”

“you’re doing your best,” you said softly. “and that’s more than enough for me.”

seungmin smiled, feeling the tension in his chest ease. “i’ll be more careful from now on. you mean too much to me to let this happen again.”

chang ♡ bin

changbin had always been an affectionate boyfriend, often expressing his love through sweet words and gestures. however, his bubbly personality and tendency to speak without thinking occasionally got him into trouble.

the slip happened during a studio vlog. changbin was casually showing off his recording setup when his phone lit up with a notification. the camera caught the preview of your text, which read: “don’t work too hard today, okay? love you 💕”

he didn’t realize it at first, but eagle-eyed fans did. within minutes of the vlog’s release, screenshots flooded social media, sparking speculation about who the message was from.

when changbin finally saw the comments, his heart sank. “oh no,” he muttered, replaying the clip and realizing what had happened.

he immediately called you, his voice a mix of guilt and worry. “i messed up, babe. your message showed up in the vlog, and fans are already talking about it.”

you were silent for a moment before laughing softly. “changbin, it’s okay. these things happen.”

“but i should’ve been more careful,” he argued, pacing his studio. “i don’t want you to deal with any negativity because of me.”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, “i’m not upset, and i’m not worried. if anything, it’s kind of sweet — they saw how much you care about me.”

her words made his chest tighten with affection. “you’re way too understanding,” he said, his voice softening. “but i’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. you don’t deserve to deal with any stress because of me.”

“you’re overthinking it,” you teased. “but if it makes you feel better, i trust you to be careful next time.”

changbin smiled, his heart feeling lighter. “thank you for being so amazing. i’ll make it up to you — i promise.”

notes: hope you guys enjoyed reading this because i enjoyed writing it a little too much xD

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

thank you so much to @rybunnie @rybunbun for the info/inspo for this and so many other posts!!! i owe u so much🥹

you knew that nagi seishiro loved you.

he clung to you, he played video games with you, he binged watch anime with you, he slept most nights holding you close to his chest, and he looked at you as if you were the most precious, extravagant treasure, as if you were irreplaceable and that he could never love another nearly as much. even if he didn’t express it through his words, his actions told you all that you needed to know.

you also knew that nagi seishiro was the bane of your existence.

skipping dates because he was too lazy to go, thinking that not replying to your texts was okay because it was a hassle, skipping dates because of soccer practice (in which he just scores 50 goals and falls asleep), being completely unaware of anyone else who had romantic interests in him and trying to steal him away from you, often flat-out ignoring you in favor of playing video games, insensitive words that he thinks are alright to say.

you’re sitting on the chipped and white wooden bench at the park, four fingers drumming on your thigh impatiently before you finally sighed, pressing the bright green “call” button once more. and once more, a robotic female voice replied. “the number you have called is currently unavailable. please send a voicemail.”

finally, you got up, hands in your pockets and grumbling profanities under your breath. angrily, you began typing on your phone, nagi’s contact photo clear as day.

you: ik that u didn’t have soccer practice today because reo said so

you: where the fuck r u???

another date, skipped for video games. probably a date that was completely forgotten about again. you were tired of this; this was the what, third time already these past two weeks? and you guys never even went on dates that often either. you groaned, walking back to your crappy little school dorm that was a whole damn building away from nagi’s.

when you were at school the next day, you ignored nagi’s overwhelming presence in the classroom. you ignored him following you around like a lost puppy. you ignored him trying to talk to you. you ignored his nudging and poking. you ignored his constant quiet apologies.

after school ended, you immediately walked back to your dorm swiftly, not turning back to see nagi almost chasing after you through the crowded halls. your eyes widened a fraction when you realized how quickly nagi was walking; he would usually find walking too fast a hassle. but just before he could catch up to you, you reached your dorm and slammed the door, leaving him outside.

“‘m sorry.” nagi muttered. “please let me in. it’s gonna rain soon, and i miss you.”

“go back to your own dorm. or go to reo’s bigass company-house-penthouse-apartment thing.” you replied hastily. “go away. you’re annoying.”

you could almost feel nagi’s pout through the door, and for a moment, you almost felt tempted to let him in. but he didn’t show up to your date last night and left you freezing on the park bench, so this is well deserved.

a few minutes later, a rainstorm thudded through the city, the clouds gray and dull. as you stared outside, you wondered if nagi had made it to his dorm safely. no, he probably had. he played soccer after all; he was fast. but your thoughts came to a halt when a loud knock came on the door.

“can you let me in? it’s really wet out here.”

you nearly sprinted to open the door, and there stood nagi, his hair and clothes wet, holding an all too familiar plastic bag. inside, you could vaguely see your favorite snacks and foods from the nearby convenience store. “sei? what the hell are you doing out here?” he stepped in, dropping the plastic bag on your counter.

“missed you, and i felt bad.” his puppy dog eyes made your own soften, and you even felt a little bad yourself. “i’ll try not to do it again. i told reo to text me whenever i have a date with you now, and i’ll try to remember more often now.”

your eyes softened, and despite how soaked his clothes were, you embraced him. “at least you’re trying.” nagi lazily draped his arms around you.

“i thought you thought that i was annoying.” nagi mumbled.

“i did. but then again, i remembered that your my boyfriend and i love you, and that my love for you cancels out my annoyance at your stupidity.”

nagi laughed before he looked down at you, and despite the rain and clouds outside, his eyes turned into glittering gems underneath the sunlight when he looked at the love of his life.

a/n: did you catch the kim possible reference???

[norrisainz33]

surprise || op81

☆ summary: oscar surprises his partner on valentine’s day

☆ pairing: oscar piastri x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: nope

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted to their story

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yourbff: DIVA DOWN

ynuser: it rough out here bestie i miss you and osco and im so tired

yourbff: my queen 😭 i miss you more and i know he does too bb. only a little bit more time and you’ll get to see him in aus!! plusssss im seeing you this weekend

ynuser: ugh i know i know it’s just a spilled coffee day and im emotional

user1: liammmmmm noooooo 😫

lando: rip

ynuser: rip is right

user2: i love how you just be a normal girly going to work and also dating the op81 like

oscarpiastri: spilled coffee or not you still look incredible

ynuser: thank you sweetheart

oscarpiastri: of course gorgeous. i just sent you £20 - go get another coffee on me please

ynuser: oscar 😭😭😭😭😭😭

mclarenf1: nooooo coffee in aus is on us!!

ynuser: love you admin 🧡

user3: girl i need you to post a grwm ur makeup is always flawless

oscarpiastri has posted to his story

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yourbff: OSCHINA 🗣️ i need ur assistance

oscarpiastri: lol what’s up?

yourbff: your darling girlfriend is down bad and i know she’s trying to pretend like she’s not for your sake but i think we should organize a lil something something to lift her spirits

oscarpiastri: already in the works. i was actually going to text you to ask for help

user2: i’m obsessed actually

mclarenf1: nice

user4: the home race hoodie!! take 💳 my 💳 money 💳

ynuser: cutie patootie i love the new helmet! p.s can’t wait for my piastri home race jumper to come in the mail

oscarpiastri: it should be there on friday with a special delivery 😉

ynuser: oooooo can’t wait

user5: this is gonna be your year oscar i just know it

user6: i can’t wait to see that fresh lid on track

oscarpiastri has posted to his private story

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yourbff: i really hope you removed her from your close friends list before posting this

oscarpiastri: i did don’t worry! and she for sure is going to be at the restaurant we talked about at 7 right?

yourbff: yes!! she thinks she’s meeting me there for #galentines. you’re lucky i’m letting you steal my valentine

oscarpiastri: i am lucky that’s for sure! thank you for all your help ❤️

lando: omg are you going to see y/n/n

oscarpiastri: correct! gonna surprise her for valentine’s day

lando: C U T E

nicolepiastri: i wish you were coming home but go get that girl!!

oscarpiastri: i’ll be home soon ❤️

logansargeant: better be going to see y/n 🤨

oscarpiastri: i am 🥹 miss you man

mclarenf1: have fun oscar!

ynuser has posted to their story

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user2: hot hot hot hot

yourbff: oh my god you’re gorgeous. i’m gonna have the hottest date tn

ynuser: stopppppp thank you

user7: oscar is the luckiest man in the world

oscarpiastri: wow sorry i just started drooling

ynuser: hahaha oscar 😂

oscarpiastri: can’t help it! you’re so insanely beautiful 😍😫

ynuser: and i’m all yours baby

oscarpiastri: mm thank goodness

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re stunning. i hope you know that baby girl

ynuser: alex i’m gonna cry 😭

user8: WOOF WOOF WOOF sorry idk what came over me there

iamrebeccad: happy valentines beautiful

ynuser: happy valentines darling!! i hope carlos treated you like the queen you are

iamrebeccad: i hope oscar does the same 😉

user9: idk if i wanna be you or be with you

oscarpiastri posted to his story

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user5: may this sort of love find me

yourbff: 🤍🤍🤍 adorable

oscarpiastri: yes ❤️

user6: couple goals

ynuser: i’m sorry for ugly crying at dinner. thank you so much for flying all the way here to see me!! i know how crazy things are getting with the season so close😭🤍

oscarpiastri: never apologize for feeling your feelings baby. there’s no place i’d rather be than with you

ynuser: how did i get so lucky????

oscarpiastri: i often ask myself the same thing

user9: oscar you have to stop setting the bar for men so high

iamrebeccad: give her a hug for me

oscarpiastri: done 🫶🏻

mclarenf1: our favorite girl 💐🧡

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by lando, logansargeant, ynuser, yourbff, mclarenf1, alex_albon, alexandrasaintmleux, and 562,348 others

oscarpiastri: spent the weekend with my forever valentine

view all replies

opeightyone: our favorite duo 🤍

user9: my mom and dad 🗣️

lando: ewwwwww this is rlly cute

oscarpiastri: thanks?

user14: i just showed this to my partner and asked why they didn’t do this for me

ynuser: forever and always ❤️

oscarpiastri: promise?

ynuser: yes handsome 😘

user12: end game end game end game

nicolepiastri: love you both so much

ynuser: love YOU mama piastri

user14: y’all are the blueprint 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🤍 happy valentine’s day 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[dodger-chan]

Inspired by this post by @0nemorestranger Hopefully close enough to what you had in mind

Edit: now on AO3

Lost Media

Steve didn’t realize he’d been humming along to anything until the music cut off suddenly and looped around to start over. The opening riff played for about three seconds before it cut off again.

“Wait, who’s humming?” The question came from one of Steve’s younger co-workers. A part-timer working his way through college. Steve couldn’t remember his name.

“Uh, that was me. Sorry,” he tacked on the apology as an afterthought.

“You know that song?” the kid asked. He sounded like Dustin.

“It’s called Plane of Shadows. I think it’s a DnD reference,” Steve answered. “Band’s Corroded Coffin. Haven’t heard them in years.”

That wasn’t strictly true. Every once in a while, Steve would play the tape he still had. Think about that one summer he’d spent as an unpaid, unofficial roadie. Daydream about what could have happened if he’d known himself a little better back then.

Not too often. Steve wasn’t that much of a loser.

The kid came over and plopped down in Robin’s empty chair. She was out sick today, getting over the flu Steve had picked up last week.

“It is. A DnD reference, I mean,” the kid said. Steve probably needed a better thing to call him; he was probably Erica’s age. “Shit, one of my friends posted that clip to this metal bulletin board. We've been trying to identify it forever. How do you know it?”

“They’re from the same small town I am. We all went to highschool together.” Not that Steve had known their music in highschool. “I don’t think they ended up with a record deal, but they did have an EP they used to sell at concerts. I can bring it tomorrow if you want.”

*********

Steve brought the tape, along with the souvenirs he’d saved from that summer. A couple of photocopied flyers. An ad clipped from a local Bloomington paper for a concert. A wristband from a bar that had marked him as too young to drink. Also his Walkman. Steve wasn’t sure if kids still had cassette players now that CDs were everywhere.

“This is so cool,” the kid - Brian, apparently - gushed when Steve handed him the shoebox he’d brought it all in at lunch. “Is it alright if I scan these? And can I borrow this tape? I want to digitize it and share the full song with the board.”

“You can do that?” Steve really needed to learn more about computers. Just not from Dustin who couldn’t teach anything without turning into a condescending asshole.

“Yeah, just record from the Walkman like it’s a mic. I’ll burn you a copy of the whole EP. That way you won’t have to worry about wearing out your tape,” Brian offered. “I would never have guessed you were such a metal fan.”

“I’m not, really,” Steve admitted. Brian blinked at him, surprised. And, well, it wasn’t the eighties anymore, and they weren’t still living in Hawkins. “Massive crush on the lead guitarist.”

“Oh, uh, thanks for telling me.” Brian leaned over and patted Steve’s shoulder. “So you and Robin aren’t-”

“Strictly platonic.” Maybe Robin was right and they should get signs for their desks.

*********

It was nearly a month later when Brian grabbed Steve at the water cooler and dragged him over to his desk, saying “You’ve got to see this.”

This was a post on the Brian’s metal bulletin board:

Crazy to hear from a buddy that our old band is a minor Internet sensation. Thanks, all. If you guys had been around back in the day we might have managed a full album. Or maybe not. Gareth’s parents would have killed him if he dropped out and Jeff actually wanted to go to college, so maybe we still would have broken up in ‘87. Regardless, we’re all thrilled our music is bringing joy to today’s metal heads. As the primary songwriter, and with the agreement of the rest of the band, I grant permission to upload and download the entire EP. We think any money we might potentially have made on it is worth less to us than the value of preserving what could have been lost media. Just make sure to credit us if your garage band turns one of our songs into a hit. Anyway, if you guys have any questions about Corroded Coffin, or the songs, reply to this post and I’ll do my best to answer in a timely fashion. Aside to OP: Is your preppy co-worker who had all our stuff a handsome former jock with spectacular hair? Because I’d love to get back in touch with our old roadie. -EM

“Oh my god,” Robin squealed, leaning over Steve’s shoulder as he read. “Please, you have to give Eddie Steve’s email. Or get Eddie’s email to give to Steve. Or both. Both would be best. That way at least one of them will have the balls to reach out first.”

“Eddie’s already reaching out,” Steve said. “And I thought you said it was anti-femminist to use testicles as a proxy for courage.”

“Stop quoting me when I’m being right, Steven.”

“So I should get his contact info for you?” Brian asked.

Steve hesitated. Real life was not some romantic comedy where attraction was always mutual and true love overcame all obstacles in the end. But it wasn’t like he’d spend the last decade pining. Even if it was nothing more than getting a friend back, it would be good to get in touch with Eddie again.

“Sure,” Steve answered. “Why not?”

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑

w.c › 7.6k

warnings › bottom male reader (dom bottom). Part 1. Reader’s really, really, really pathetic here.

plot › you do everything to get Naoki back, including groveling on your knees.

kinks › degradation, marking, slight dub-con, hate, slapping, foot/leg humping, acarophilia

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“When you block someone, do they keep the videos you sent?”

“Hm. I’m not sure. Depends if they saved them or not.”

It was silent for only a second.

“Wait, wait, wait!!!!! Arakawa Naoki, you, you!! You blocked someone?! What did they do?!” Nakamura suddenly sat up, crawling to the end of the bed as he stared up at his friend in shock. His eyes wide and almost popping out of his sockets.

Naoki sighed, glancing over at the tv resting on the dresser across from Nakamura’s bed. “Forget it. I don’t want to think about him.”

“Him?! Was it the aquarium dude?!”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?! You were practically gushing about him a week ago, now that you mention it, you haven’t giggled to me about him in four days. What did he do?!” Nakamura stood up, nodding his head, his moves a bit sluggish as he grabbed his baseball bat from the corner of the room. “I’ll kill ‘im! Lemme at him, I’ll hit a home run with his head!”

“Sit down,” Naoki easily grabbed the bat from Nakamura’s hand and tossed it onto the ground. “It’s nothing. It was my fault for being naive.”

Nakamura blinked, humming slightly. He dropped to his knees and looked up at Naoki expectedly. “Naive? Was he… Yakuza..?”

“No, nothing like that. It was..” Naoki frowned, glancing at Nakamura. “You’ll be angry.”

“Angry?” Nakamura, despite the cheap beer swirling in his brain, narrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s that fucking Momoi (Name)!!!!!”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I knew it. He’s been waiting for you to fall into his trap. To think that you sent him videos—not that I’m victim blaming you—he’ll probably post them. Your face wasn’t in it right? We can come up with plausible explanations or something.”

“Nakamura…”

“It’s been three weeks, right? Maybe he’s waiting for the perfect moment.. ah fuck, or maybe..”

“Nakamura Takumi.”

Takumi finally stopped his pacing and turned to face Naoki. Naoki groaned, leaning against the wall as he glared at his friend.

“Can we talk about this another time? Not during an appointment for getting a cane?”

“Ah,” Takumi gave a slight smile. “Sorry, I’m just worried. That guy’s unstable! Who cares if he can carry a tune. I don’t know why Yuki likes him so much, she didn’t care for him back in high school.”

Naoki stood up from the wall and shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “Must’ve really liked the music.” He pulled out his phone and checked the time. “I don’t know why you needed me to come with me to get your dad’s cane.”

Takumi shrugged. “Just.. wanted you to check out the canes here. You.. well, you’ve been complaining about your leg more often. You—”

“Zip it.”

“Naoki…”

“I don’t need a cane yet. Wait until I’m thirty at least.”

“Using a cane isn’t bad. Lots of young people use it.”

“I can still walk.”

“Duh. I’m just saying.”

“Actually, bring up the revenge porn again. That’s better than this.” Naoki shook his head, unlocking his phone to check his LINE. He responded to his mother’s text before coming across your contact. His eyes landed on your name.

Sea Moon.

A joke. Did you really take him for a joke? He let out a bitter laugh and turned off his phone, slipping it into his pocket.

Takumi hummed, “I do wonder, maybe he didn’t know.”

“What?”

“Ah,” Takumi let out a huff. “I hate the guy, don’t get me wrong, but maybe he didn’t know it was you.”

“Even if he didn’t—he was cheating on his girlfriend. I’m not anyone’s side chick.”

“True. That was strange of him. Maybe you should leak the conversation to his girlfriend,” Takumi laughed, already giddy at the thought of ruining your reputation.

Naoki rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

1 year ago

“Look, look!”

Naoki pushed Yuki’s phone away, trying to properly cut out the spine of the fish in front of him. He almost sliced his own finger just as Yuki showed him the phone again.

“What??” Naoki placed the knife down, glaring at Yuki. A giddy grin was on her lips as she held her phone right at his face. Naoki narrowed his eyes and grabbed the phone from her hand, trying to read what she was showing him.

“Oh, Takumi-Kun, come look!” She called over Takumi who was lounging on the couch, rubbing his belly as he lazily flipped through channels

“If it has to deal with that stupid emo and his sister, stop bothering me.” Takumi yelled.

“Ah, you’re no fun! Brother Momoi beat the loner allegations!”

“Hah? What the hell are you talking about?”

Naoki stared at the phone for a moment, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

It was of a photo of you and a girl, the girl pressing her lips against your cheek. Her hands gripped your shoulders as she stood on her tippy toes. The next picture was of your foreheads pressed together, a wide grin on the girl’s lips.

Another of her holding your arm, cuddling close to you as you both sat at a restaurant. Her reaching over and feeding you a piece of sushi.

𝐌𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐨’𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐢 (𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭! 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐢’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫?!

Naoki felt odd. He didn’t understand this heavy feeling in his heart. It wasn’t like you were ever his. Wouldn’t it be his fault for never stepping forward and saying something to you? But you would always run away from him, how could he?

Were those four years nothing?

Did he imagine it? Maybe he was the one stalking you?

Naoki let out a laugh, placing Yuki’s phone onto the countertop. “Good for him.” Was all he said before grabbing his jacket and slipping on his shoes.

Takumi sat up, his eyes narrowing. “Where are you going?”

“Beer. I don’t think we have enough for tonight. Yuki, you can pull out the rest of the spine from the fish. I’ll be quick.”

Yuki blinked. “Woah, we’re drinking tonight? Don’t we have an exam tomorrow?”

Takumi sighed, “he’s still attached to him after all.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just pull the spine out. I’ll start the side dishes.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re wallowing again.” Hiyori tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

You rubbed the bridge of your nose. “I’m not.”

“You totally are.” A voice cut in.

“How’d you even get in?” You glared at the unwanted guest, placing your spoon on your plate. Your curry and rice was hardly touched since Hiyori placed the bowl in front of you.

Miki giggled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on Hiyori’s lips. Hiyori eagerly returned the kiss but was stopped from deepening it with a slight glare from Miki. “Not in front of your brother. He’s innocent.”

You scoffed. “I thought I changed the apartment code.”

“I told her the new code.” Hiyori said, pulling Miki to sit down on her lap. Miki immediately got comfortable, humming happily.

“I thought it was siblings before hoes.”

“Hey, don’t call her a hoe… only I can,” Hiyori smirked, tightening her grip on Miki’s waist. “In bed at least.”

“Hiyori!” Miki giggled, lightly slapping Hiyori’s hand. The two looked at each other lovingly before Hiyori seemed to remember you were currently dealing with a crisis. She turned over to look at you, a frown on her lips.

“Sea Brain, I get it,” Hiyori said, her voice a bit more serious. “Arakawa believed the fake rumors you and Miki did last year to hide that she was lesbian. It sucks, but you just gotta explain that to him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Can’t explain shit to him if he’s blocked me.” You muttered.

Miki frowned, “really? Woah, he really cares about my feelings,” she laughed, stopping quickly when you glared at her. “Ahem, I mean, that can’t be the only reason. Maybe he feels abandoned by you? You stalked him for four years straight and suddenly pay him no attention at all.”

You sigh, rubbing at your face. “I was busy, if I wasn’t I would’ve followed him everywhere. Why doesn’t he get that?”

“Well you didn’t know he was in an accident.”

“What?” Hiyori questioned, her mouth fulled with curry. “Accident?”

You glared at Miki, “what the hell? What do you mean he was in an accident?”

“It was a whole thing,” Miki said, humming softly. She leaned back more into Hiyori’s arms and sighed. “It was in the news—but you don’t pay attention to that, so maybe that’s why you don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“You can search his name and his birthdate. It happened on Christmas Eve of last year. He got into a car accident with his dad and little sister. He was the only one who survived but he could no longer play baseball after that. It was a big deal, he was popular in his college team, people believed he could’ve gone national.

“I pay attention to his school but that’s because I’m an alumni.” Miki said, nodding slightly. “But I would’ve thought you would’ve heard of it. It happened only ten minutes from your apartment. They were.. hm, they were going somewhere, and a drunk trunk driver just hit the car.”

“We must’ve been busy during that day,” Hiyori muttered. She glanced over at you. “It’s okay, you couldn’t have known. Don’t beat yourself about this. Honestly, maybe you should view this as your reason to move on. He technically did reject you.”

You ignored Hiyori’s comment, only focusing on the information Miki told you. His dad and little sister died? Which father? You had stalked Naoki enough to know that he had a step father and a biological father he wasn’t close to at all. He’d often write stuff in his notebook about it, but he had stopped after he supposedly gained a new half sister from his bio father.

Was that them?

All of the past information you knew about Naoki was waking up, filling your head after having to bury it deep inside. You glanced at your phone—now basically dead with Naoki no longer keeping the ringtone alive.

“If he felt abandoned by me…” you whispered, catching Miki’s and Hiyori’s attention. “I just need to show him that I’m here again.”

“And that I’ll never leave him ever again.”

“Jesus. How’d you get a red mark like this?” The makeup artist muttered, shaking her head. She began using some foundation to cover it up.

You didn’t want to explain that after your little declaration last night, Hiyori had slapped the shit out of you. That didn’t shock you too much—the day you had first confessed to Hiyori that you were stalking Naoki she almost beat you up.

It made sense. You understood why she wanted you to stop. And back then, you almost took her words to heart.

It was during your first year of high school. The last day, you were thinking that you would obey Hiyori’s pleas. Why waste time on a kid you hardly knew well? Though you had been getting to know quite a bit, including his family drama.

But Arakawa Naoki must’ve subconsciously knew that you were going to leave him alone. Just as you were leaving after the last day, all of the kids chattering about what their summer vacation plans were.

Naoki had walked over to you, a little grin on his face. He looked shy, holding something behind his back. You almost immediately believed that he must’ve been pranking you or something until he pulled out a small box of chocolates.

His gap tooth was still wide, only now just closing due to the braces he got two months ago. “Here. I wasn’t here on White’s Day..” he had whispered, his eyes looking down. “You normally run away whenever I came close so.. I wanted to try one more time. The chocolates melted and were frozen again so.. they’re probably ugly by now.”

You could only blink, remembering that you couldn’t even say anything. Naoki glanced up and only shook his head. He grabbed your hand and placed the small heart shaped box in your hand. A gasp left your lips, only able to stare as Naoki gave you a smile.

He walked away shortly after that, Nakamura wrapped his arm around his neck. Nakamura glanced back at you and glared, shaking his head as he guided his friend out. You couldn’t even be bothered to care about his weird hatred towards you—all you could think about was tasting the chocolate.

And Naoki was right, they did look ugly.

But they were tasty.

So tasty.

“(Name), did you meet the other model for the shoot?” Hiyori asked, tapping your shoulder right after the makeup artist left. “Don’t get snippy with him—you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your cereal all day.”

You huffed, pushing the memory away. “Mhm. I won’t. Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Does it still hurt? I didn’t think it would… y’know, be that strong.” She muttered, a slight look of embarrassment on her face.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not angry over it.” You glanced at the mirror, almost amazed at how well the red mark was gone. Your eyes flickered to Hiyori’s through the mirror. “But, you’ll have to get over it—I’m going to get Arakawa-San. You can always report me to the police if you’re really worried.”

Hiyori frowned. “Don’t talk so loudly,” she whispered, leaning in closer. “I… I don’t know how to feel about it. But I won’t say anything unless Arakawa does. If he shows any sense of fear at the sight of you, I’m reporting you, it doesn’t matter if you’re my brother.”

“It’s a deal.”

She looked a bit upset over it but she only nodded, pulling away from you. You had an understanding sister for all things considered. A normal one would’ve reported you back in middle school.

Though there was no guarantee police would even do anything. They are known for their incompetence.

But you understood her thought process.

Not enough to stop though.

“Brother Momoi, Sister Momoi! Come on, you’re the first trio.” The photographer called, earning your attention. You got up and followed Hiyori to the set, seeing the other person who you’d be shooting with.

Hiyori bowed her head slightly, “hello.”

The person, a man with a wide grin and dyed brown hair nodded. “Hi, I’m Yuto! I’ve heard a lot about you guys.” He glanced over at you and hummed. “Momoi-Kun having a permanent frown was true too.”

Hiyori couldn’t help her slight grin, “ah, that’s true… are you a singer?”

“No, model! I just recently started acting.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding to tune them out. All you could think about was Naoki. Was his leg okay? The accident must’ve worsened his leg. Is he enjoying school? What made him choose meteorology. A weather forecaster?

You began to imagine him in a suit and tie, standing in front of a green screen as he talked about weather. Maybe glasses? The suit might be a little tight on him—he’d pull down his tie just a bit, show off his collarbone right as the cameras turned off.

You’d love to grab that tie, pull it and have him gasp at your strength. Whether you rid him or fucked him. Just having him make those same whimpers he made in the video… you’d—

“Enjoying yourself, huh?”

Yuto laughed at your shocked expression, wiggling his eyebrow. “Not judging. I suddenly think about my boyfriend and get horny too.”

“Boyfriend?” You whispered. He confessed so easily, you haven’t been close to another celebrity that had no struggle in expressing their sexuality.

“Mhm. I mean, you’re like me, right?”

“What? Like you?” You stared at him, almost feeling a little nervous.

Yuto blinked. He stared at you and then looked you up and down. His gaze fell back to your face as he blinked once more, a look that was smug but also filled with disbelief.

“Well someone like you is certainly not straight, that’s for sure.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to go to a mixer.”

Naoki sighed, scrolling through his phone. He was deleting pictures he had saved of you. Mostly class photos or any photo he managed to take with you. You’d always look so uncomfortable whenever he tried to take selfies with you. Maybe he really was wrong about your feelings towards him.

“Naoki, Nao-Chan, Kiki. Ki-Kun. Nana,” Takumi whined, leaning down to obscure Naoki’s view. He batted his eyelashes and pouted. “Please, pretty please, for me, Nao Nao?”

“Stop calling me that, Mimi.” Naoki rolled his eyes and moved away, deleting a few more pictures.

Takumi sighed, “fine, fine. Stop looking at your phone. My babe is almost here.”

Naoki turned off his phone and grinned. “So this babe is real? I was getting worried that she was a girl from ‘Hong Kong.’”

“Shut up. At least I like normal people.”

“Low blow.” Naoki pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

“Taku?”

Naoki glanced up to see a boy, a wide grin on his lips, dyed brown hair slicked back, he looked like he came straight from a photoshoot. Wait. Naoki looked back over at Takumi and stared at him a shock.

“You like boys?”

The model practically sprinted over to Takumi and Naoki’s table, immediately grabbing Takumi’s arm—and with surprising strength for his thin frame, tugged Takumi to stand up. Takumi quickly hugged the boy and they both began to giggle and whisper to themselves.

“Wait, I thought you only liked girls!” Naoki whispered-yelled, gaining the couple’s attention.

Takumi pulled away from the hug with a sheepish expression, “I wanted to tell you but the one day I was about to the whole.. y’know happened so I kinda just forgot. Ah, anyway, this is Yuto!”

“Hey!” Yuto grinned. He felt like sunshine personified. Naoki fought the urge to cover his eyes from the shine radiating off him.

“Hey, I’m Naoki.”

A wide grin pulled on Takumi’s face. “He’s the reason we used to be only able to meet on Sundays. That was the only day he had off after he recently got casted in a web series! When does it start airing again, baby?”

“Hm,” Yuto easily moved his hand to rest on Takumi’s hip as if it was second nature to him. “I think, March 14th. So, less than a month from now.”

Takumi and Yuto practically moved like one body as they sat down in the booth across from Naoki. Immediately the pair cuddled up into each other as Takumi passed over the restaurant’s menu.

Naoki didn’t know if he was upset or shocked.

“Ahem,” he coughed, gaining the two’s attention. “So, how’d you meet?”

Yuto grinned. Smiling seemed to be his default expression. “At a BDSM event.”

Takumi began coughing violently, putting down his glass of water. Naoki could only blink.

“He was a newbie and so shy, I was immediately interested. But he was so scared of me at first, like he doesn’t have more muscle than me.”

“Yuto… maybe we should’ve used the sanitized version?” Takumi whispered.

“He’s been your best friend since diapers.” Yuto said, rolling his eyes. “He’s probably heard about your sex life. Anyway, Taku was so shy, that when I brought him to my hotel, he was talking about it was first time being a dom and all that bullshit. Hahahah, anyway I showed him how a true dom acts. Now he’s a great listener, isn’t that right, baby?”

Naoki wished he had lost his hearing in that car crash.

“Can we talk about something else,” Takumi whispered.

“Yeah…” Naoki said in agreement.

Yuto only nodded, seemingly unaware of the twos growing discomfort. “Oh, today I had a photoshoot! I still have the makeup on that the makeup stylist did. It was for promoting a makeup pallet, I think. I kinda forgot, I honestly didn’t care for it. Oh but, I did get to meet some people, building connections, all that jazz. I met Momoi Hiyori.”

Naoki and Takumi immediately glanced at each other.

“Really?” Takumi asked.

“Yeah. And her little brother. He’s so weird. But kinda in a good way? Like I tried to have a conversation with him and it’s like he immediately shut me out. But I was able to wear him down enough to get him to follow my Instagram. I’m meeting Hiyori again next week for drinks. I’ll probably try some more to wear that grump down.”

Naoki hummed, mostly to himself. So you were grumpy and standoffish to everyone. He didn’t think that made him feel any better. If he were to take your words seriously, right before he blocked you, you hadn’t known that it was during the whole situation.

In his heart, he had a glimmer of hope that maybe if you had known it was him, you would’ve been more excited texting him. Would’ve been more eager to text him and not just dryly respond as if he was pulling teeth.

But then he remembers the times he tried to bridge the gap in high school.

He’d be silly to think you really liked him. Maybe you just found him good to look at. But then those gifts? Was it to get him attached? For you to feel some type of glee at having someone like him get attached to you?

No. No he was being bitter now. Despite your terrible attitude—you weren’t that type of person.

Just a cheater apparently.

“Naoki.” Takumi snapped his fingers, causing Naoki to jump.

“You good?” Yuto asked, a slight frown on his lips.

“Mhm, sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Probably of that jerk.” Takumi rolled his eyes.

“Jerk?” Yuto questioned. “Trouble in paradise?”

“There was no paradise.” Naoki frowned. “At least I was the only one who actually cared about our relationship.”

Yuto hummed. “Well, let me take your mind off that. Are you free next week Friday?”

“Why?”

“Well,” Yuto leaned in closer over the table, a smirk on his lips as he rubbed his thumb and index finger together, “wanna earn some money?”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Hey, have you seen Yuto-Kun’s newest post? It’s cute.” Hiyori said, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t check social media.” You bluntly answered, the water still dripping from your hair after your shower. Your towel rested on your head—too lazy to properly dry your hair at this point.

“Fine, forgot you just have the manager post for you. Here, here, look.”

Hiyori handed over her phone. You rolled your eyes but grabbed it, looking at what Yuto posted. It looked to be promotion for a music video he was in. You knew the band—One Heart. For their music videos they usually never used themselves, having actors portray the story they’re trying to tell.

“Let me pull up the music video.” Hiyori said, turning on the tv.

You sighed, swiping through the pictures. It looked like the video would take place at a school. High school love probably. Most of the pictures were of BTS shots, selfies Yuto took with the band members or any other actor. Looked like he would be portraying a student due to him wearing a school uniform.

“Ah, apparently the song is the OST for the web series Yuto’s in. Cool, cool. We gotta do our own OST soon, that’ll be so cool.” Hiyori muttered, pressing play on the video.

The video started immediately with an actor you didn’t know, peeking over at a group of girls giggling at their phones.

“He’s so cute.”

“Why is he a weather forecaster?”

“Hey, being a weather forecaster isn’t bad, I’ll get up at 6 am just for him~”

The actor frowned at the girls’ comments, possibly having a crush on them. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the video they were watching. You looked away, already a bit bored. Having storylines in music videos weren’t interesting to you most of the time.

Just get—

“That’s Arakawa!” Hiyori yelled, sitting up.

You immediately stared at the tv and to your shock, it was. He was the weather forecaster. His hair was pushed back with gel, a pair of rectangular glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. A sleek and well fitted dark blue suit. What he was saying couldn’t be heard as the melody of the song began playing.

The music video began playing out with the student actor having an identity crisis—trying different ways to look like Naoki, even going as far as drawing a black dot on his face.

But all you could pay attention to was the short snippets of Naoki. He looked handsome. That half ass selfie you got was nothing to seeing him in video.

Seeing him in person would send you to heaven.

You needed to see him. Quickly.

As soon as the music video ended, Hiyori’s phone beeped. You glanced down and noticed Yuto posted again. It was a video this time, a short snippet from a future BTS video for the song.

The camera was showing Naoki. He was sitting down and had his shoes off, a shy look on his face. Once the person behind the camera seemed to motion they were recording, Naoki grinned.

“Arakawa-San, what’s that metal thing on your foot?”

Yuto appeared beside Naoki, kneeling down to touch the strange device. It was a silver metal encasing that held his left foot. There was a small knob on the right that Naoki reached down and began turning, showing the metal tightening its grip on his foot.

“This is to help me walk with less of a limp.” Naoki explained, gently tapping the metal to show off the sound. “Real metal. A bit expensive.” He giggled nervously, obviously not used to talking to a camera. “It’s slender so I can still wear most shoes.. oh except flip flops or sandals, that’ll be awkward.”

Yuto hummed, “cool. Oh oh, everyone~ Arakawa modeled before, right?” He glanced back at Naoki who began to blush slightly.

“Ah, yea, but it was just sponsorships for my old baseball team.”

“Editor, add pictures!” Yuto giggled, earning a laugh from the camera person. “Everyone follow Arakawa’s IG~ he should reach 10k followers in a week, yea?”

Naoki pouted. “I don’t need followers.”

“Yea yea, just follow him.” The camera person chimed in. Their voice sounded familiar but you couldn’t recognize it. Just as the video was about to end, a photo appeared on the screen.

It was of one of those sponsorships Naoki had.

He looked to be advertising sportswear. He was dressed in a white compression shirt that made his waist look small. Black shorts that were ridden up due to him sitting down. He had a wide grin, his hair messy and wild, with a little dirt on his face.

There was a small little caption on the photo.

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐤𝐢, 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦! 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐.

He was number 12? And a pitcher? You couldn’t remember much about baseball. In all honesty, you never paid attention to him playing. It was one of the things you thought was boring.

But maybe you should make more of an effort now.

Besides…

You glanced down as the video began to replay. Your gaze narrowing at Yuto.

You had a new in to find Arakawa Naoki.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

@Naose1224

It’s Teddy’s birthday~ he hates the ocean but wanted sushi as his birthday meal. He’s officially….. 100 years old! ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و

His picture showed the teddy bear. And you wondered how you didn’t notice that it was the teddy bear you bought. It was still cute. The fur was still as dark brown as it was when you first saw it.

There was a total of ten photos.

The first was of the teddy bear, a birthday cone resting on its head, almost slipping off. One of the bear’s eye was gone but was sown shut—as if it was brand new. The teddy bear was a bit big in size compared to most. It was resting on a bench in what looked to be a park.

Next it was of Naoki and the teddy bear for a selfie. Naoki’s hair was messy and untamed, looking as if he just woke up. The teddy bear laying on his chest as he gave a peace sign.

Three other photos was just of the sushi Naoki must’ve bought.

You froze at one specific photo. It was Nakamura, the real Nakamura. Nakamura Takumi. The guy who seemed to hate you since middle school. Your classmates had always said he and Naoki could be brothers. And in the photo you almost agreed.

But Naoki was always prettier.

The two of them were what looks to be a karaoke bar, the teddy bear resting on Nakamura’s lap as he pulled at its round ears. Naoki had a wide grin on his face, face flushed. There were multiple bottles on the table.

The last ones were of Yuto and Naoki. Nakamura would occasionally pop his head in. You were about to scroll past when you reached the last photo.

There was a stranger touching Naoki.

The stranger had his arm wrapped around Naoki’s waist, practically pulling him into his lap as he kissed Naoki’s cheek.

You almost passed out at the sight.

You quickly checked the comments.

@baseballlover2002

Nao Nao… why did you post the picture where i have crossed eyes?! Oh god

@Naose1224

It’s fine Taku, Yuto thought it was cute

@Yuto_Kirishima

Soooo cute, Nao Nao~ (^з^)-☆ I wanna eat you up

@baseballlover2002

Why are you calling him that…

@Yuto_Kirishima

Don’t tell me you’re jealous~ it’s a cute nickname

Why is that your username?

@baseballlover2002

I made it when I was like 12, leave me alone

@baseballlover2002

Anyway, Nao, are you gonna text him?

@Naose1224

Him? Probably not, he made fun of Teddy..

@baseballlover2002

Fuck the fucking teddy bear, pls, I’m tired of it!!!

You couldn’t help but smirk. Of course Naoki loved your gift so much. You had spent over three hours in that store back then, almost turning insane as you tried to figure out which teddy bear was the best.

@39730284

I hope I can see you more often, you’re quite fun~

@Naose1224

No promises ⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄ you’re so handsy

@39730284

Only with you, @baseballlover2002 make sure to take him to the after party after the game next weekend

@baseballlover2002

Aye, captain!!

“What the fuck—”

“Momoi-Kun? How’d you get here?”

You flinched, glancing over to see Yuto. He was dressed more laidback compared to the pictures he posted on IG. You quickly stood up—cursing to yourself.

You were currently at the aforementioned party. It wasn’t hard at all to see what restaurant the baseball team were meeting at. So you had come with really no plan in mind on what you’d do when you finally saw Naoki.

There was just something in you that needed to see him.

Yuto hummed, raising an eyebrow. He took in your hat and mask, with your jacket and pants. “Are you friends with anyone on the team? Well, scratch that, you don’t have any.” He laughed slightly. “Why are you here?”

You glared at him. “I didn’t know you were my manager.”

“I’m not but I know her well,” he said, allowing you to fill in the blanks.

You wanted to punt him in the face. “I’m here to see someone.”

“Who?”

“…Arakawa Naoki.”

“Nao Nao?” Yuto asked, speaking about your Naoki as if he knew him for such a long time. “Well, he’s not here. He’s at home—feeling under the weather.”

You perked up at that. “Is he okay? Does he need anything?”

“I dunno. You ask him,” Yuto laughed, shaking his head. “Just go visit him. I texted him earlier, Tak—Nakamura, his friend, dropped off some food.”

“Ok.” You immediately went to leave when you remembered you didn’t know his address. “Uhm, you wouldn’t happen to know his address, right?”

Yuto narrowed his gaze. “You don’t know his address?”

“It’s.. been awhile.” You quickly muttered, “I haven’t been able to visit him since he… moved.”

“Ah. Ok.” Yuto muttered. You felt your body immediately relax just as your phone pinged. “There. That’s his address.”

You were lucky Yuto didn’t ask enough questions. Maybe he should’ve been more careful.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I don’t think you’re listening to me, is it so hard to literally listen to when I say I don’t care if you’re suddenly a family man. I don’t want you in my life.”

“You’d really say that when your sister is in the car?”

“Like you really care about how a kid feels. You’re not even wearing a seatbelt, you’re smoking in the car as well. Just drop me home, I’m done talking to you.”

“Listen here you little—”

“Why’d you stop in the middle of the road?! There’s a—!”

Naoki sighed, rubbing his hair as he stared blankly at his tv. It was small and aged—but somehow still working like a brand new one. He could remember that night clearly. How his birth father flew out of the window, the sickening crunch of bones.

He wondered if it was good she was sleeping during the ride. At least her death was instant. Because of course that man hadn’t properly secured her in her car seat.

He remembered being feeling his left foot practically crushed, but it was somehow still fine. Remembered managing to push open the heavy door. Collapsing onto the ground as people began to surround the crash. The truck driver somehow okay as he stumbled out of his car, only blood dripping down his face.

No.

What he really remembered was looking up and see your face.

Seeing your advertisement for something. He couldn’t remember. Maybe makeup or jewelry.

He just remembered your eyes staring down at him as he began to laugh. Someone finally feeling brave enough to check on him as others called an ambulance. The person began trying to soothe him as Naoki just laughed and laughed.

Blood dripping down his lips. He hadn’t even noticed the glass shards that were stuck on his arms and face. Everything was just so funny to him at that moment.

He hated you.

He fucking hated you.

Then he began sobbing. Sobbing over many things at that moment. Even delirious he knew he couldn’t play baseball ever again. But he also mourned you.

He had wished you were there, like before, when he had that silly concussion. He needed you.

And yet you were no where to be found.

Maybe it was good he didn’t know you lived in those fancy apartments not even two minutes away from the crash. That you were in a car that drove past the scene. That if you had looked up from your phone, looked right, you’d see your supposed “love” on the street.

“‘Long time no see’? We see each other in class all the time.”

“But you haven’t talked to me in a while. I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. There is just no reason to talk to you anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Naoki sighed, instantly feeling pity for the blonde hair student. He placed his empty bowl on his coffee table and turned up the volume of the tv show he was watching. In a way, he felt that way about you a lot.

Maybe you believed you had no reason to think about him anymore.

Well, how could he even be sure that whole diary nonsense was true?

He groaned and shook his head. He was getting a headache thinking about you. When would you leave his thoughts?

Rapid knocks on his door caught his attention as he paused the show. Was Takumi back? Naoki sighed and sat up, using the couch as a leverage. He limped over to the door—pressing his palm against the wall.

It somehow got harder during the night. Maybe he was just tired.

He reached for the door knob, not bothering to check the peephole and opened the door. “Takumi? Did you forget something?”

His was expecting to come face to face with Takumi’s chest, the man being taller than him. But he was met with someone of similar height. He blinked once, twice, before leaning back just a bit to get a proper look of who was at his door.

However that was futile as the stranger immediately rushed into his apartment and engulfed him into a hug. Naoki gripped at the stranger’s waist as a confused grunt left his lips. His lips parted as he tried to form words.

Just who—

The stranger pulled away and despite the hat obscuring half of their face, Naoki got a clear look. He knew you. Not like he could ever forget you now that your face is plastered on advertisements all over Tokyo.

Naoki only stared at you for a moment before his face screwed up in a snarl, his hands sliding up to your shoulders as he shoved you away with a surprising amount of strength.

You flinched away, almost in shock at how he could easily manhandled you. Your cock twitched at the thought.

“Arakawa—”

“—Out.”

“Arakawa-San, let me explain.”

“Get out. How’d you even find my apartment—actually, don’t answer that.” He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Arakawa-San, please. It was a misunderstanding.” You said, closing the door behind you. Naoki immediately flared up as if he was a dog, now anxious and fidgety. You frowned, having not anticipated he would’ve ever reacted to you like this. “I’m not dating Miki, that’s what you think right?”

Naoki glared at you, moving himself to rest against his wall.

“I’m not, really. Miki is dating my sister but people were beginning to get suspicious, including her family. Miki isn’t ready to come out as a lesbian yet so she asked me to play her fake boyfriend.”

“Okay.” Naoki muttered. You tried to get a better look at him but it was difficult with the only lights in the apartment being from the tv.

Naoki pressed his hand against your chest as soon as you got even an inch closer. “So, what? I was wrong about that. I still don’t want you here. So get out.”

You frowned. “Arakawa… I don’t get it, weren’t we getting close over text?”

“You call that getting close? When I was the one handling the entire conversation?”

“I’m just a dry texter…”

“Then we’re just not compatible then.”

“Not compatible? We haven’t even tried.” You couldn’t help the raise in your tone, your hand slamming against the wall, right near Naoki’s head.

Naoki flinched as he stared at you in shock, his eyes wide. “Are you serious? You leave me alone for two years and now you’re suddenly crawling back?”

“Arakawa-San… please, I was just busy, I’ve always thought about you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve kept everything in reference to you… and you feel the same, you, you kept that teddy bear I gave you. It was me, I wrote that note for you.”

“I knew that.” Naoki said, not even looking at you. “I’m not an idiot.”

You pulled away slightly, feeling panicked that nothing you were saying was getting through to him. With no other options, you dropped to your knees, ignoring that pain that shot through your body. Your hands gripped Naoki’s right leg as you pressed your forehead against his knee.

“Please, Arakawa-San… I do love you. I do want you… I’m just… I’m just not talkative or any type of friendly person. But my feelings aren’t fake, please, believe me.” You rubbed your face against his pajamas pants, feeling tears prickle your eyes.

Naoki shifted his leg, possibly to get away but that only caused him to accidentally rub against your crotch. A gasp left your throat as you quickly clamped your lips shut.

The air was tense and silent. Naoki’s breath was the only that filled the room. You hadn’t even realized you had effectively stopped breathing.

Naoki suddenly let out a humorless laugh, his foot rubbing against your growing erection. You looked up at him shock. He had a slight smirk on his lips as he reached over and took off your hat, tossing it aside. Now free, his right hand found itself gripping onto your hair.

“Go ahead. It’s probably the only human touch you’ve ever gotten, yeah?”

You didn’t even get to say anything as he rubbed his leg. The fact you were wearing sweatpants didn’t help—barely acting like a barricade to his touch. Your hands tightened its grip on his leg, nails piercing through the thin fabric of his pajamas.

Naoki was silent, even no longer moving his foot as you began to rut against his leg. You bit your bottom lip to hold back any sounds. Your left hand reaching down as you attempted to jerk yourself off. But Naoki’s hand suddenly tightened on your hair, pulling your head back.

“I don’t want to see you masturbate.” He said bluntly. “Get off from my touch—you can touch yourself in your bed.” He loosened his grip and was silent once more. You spared a glance up at him but he was looking to his right, over at the small living room.

You didn’t like that. You reached over and began to roll up Naoki’s pajama pants, showing off his bare thighs. Unlucky for you, it didn’t seem like he was the type to go commando. Naoki flinched at the sudden cool air as he glanced down at you.

Feeling bolder at now having his attention, you pressed a kiss on his inner thigh. You continued to hump his leg, it hardly doing anything to alleviate the pain growing in your cock, now leaking in your boxers.

At the mere thought of ruining Naoki’s ability to wear shorts for a few days, you sunk your teeth into his skin. Naoki gasped, his grip tightening on your hair but he didn’t pull.

“I didn’t say I wanted your filthy mouth on me,” Naoki muttered, “but you never listen do you? You don’t pay attention to anything that I want. To think that I…” he stopped himself, simply sighing.

You stared up at him but made no effort to say anything. You could only focus on marking the blank canvas in front of you. Humping his leg was afterthought at this point. The edge of not cumming was almost a pleasure in of itself.

“Arakawa…” you whispered against his thigh, kissing upward to his inner thigh, sucking the skin.

Naoki’s body flinched as he grazed his foot against your erection, “suddenly, ngh, acting selfless? Just fucking get off and leave. Don’t act like you care.”

You shudder, unable to feel any sort of pain from his words. No, you were only emboldened by his cruelty. And fuck did that say a lot about how you were wired deep inside.

“I only live for you,” you whispered against his skin, a giddy laugh leaving you. It felt so good to say it to him. To finally feel his skin on yours. You were almost worried that this was all a dream. “Fuck me… or I can fuck you? Both’s fine.” The words left you with ease.

Naoki scoffed, “that’s enough. Cum already, I’m bored.” He harshly pressed the ball of his feet against your cock and began to rub. It was painful as you gripped at his thighs, nails digging into his soft flesh. Little droplets of blood began to drip down his thigh.

The red liquid immediately catching your attention as you leaned in and licked it up greedily. Despite the pain, you felt your cock reach its peak as you cummed in your boxers. A groan left your lips.

“Took you long enough.” Naoki muttered, pulling away. He reached down and grabbed your hands, pushing them off his leg. You stared up at him in shock, the clarity taking a moment to settle in.

“Arakawa—”

“—Go. Get out.”

You shakily stood up as you tried to think. But Naoki was giving you no time. He roughly placed your hat back on your head and opened the front door. Before you knew it, he managed to shove you out. You crashed into the railing, grasping the bar as you almost tumbled over.

Naoki flinched, his face shocked as if he didn’t consider his own strength. “You’re so… you need to hit the gym more.” He whispered, moving to walk away. You wondered why he left the door open until he came back holding Teddy.

Your eyes widen as a plea was on the top of your tongue. But he beat you to it, tossing Teddy to your feet. Teddy stared up at you with his one eye, as if he was asking you,

“Why is he throwing me away? After four years?”

“Arakawa—!”

“Stop. You’re driving me insane. I was so cruel to you just now. Have some self respect, we should forget about each other. It’s for the best.”

You stared down at Teddy before shaking your head at Naoki. “I didn’t care. I didn’t stop you. I want you, Arakawa Naoki. The good and the ugly. I’ll make it known that I’ll accept part of you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have pushed me away. I’m done chasing you, Momoi (Name).” Just as he moved to close the door, you got a push of energy to stop it, right before it was fully closed.

“Momoi—”

“—then I’ll chase after you. I’ll make up for all the times you felt unwanted. Because I love you, Arakawa Naoki.”

Naoki didn’t say anything. He simply stared at you as if he didn’t believe a word you had just said.

He slammed the door shut, leaving both you and Teddy in the hallway. The sounds of car horns echoed across the street.

It felt like you were right back at square one.

Sorry~ no happiness here yet, part three? lol

tag list: @chill-guy-but-cooler @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @castocipher @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @love-kha1 @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @cherry-blossoms-187 @secretivemessenger @yuzuukix @bensontrechic @anchoredphoenix @ning1e @m00n-b4b3 @wshyouwerehere @syyyy4ever @yj-ae @chaevvonders @gojosdumpydump @jihyoluvzz @luvsuvina



[hwaflms]

round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]

{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/

[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc

[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me

[☆] wc. 6.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh

[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p

even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.

today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.

you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)

now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.

presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.

“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”

you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.

swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”

“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.

you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.

“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.

“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.

“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”

he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.

out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.

as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.

sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.

“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.

“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.

“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.

“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”

some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.

“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.

“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.

“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”

haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.

“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.

your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?

it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.

maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.

you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.

“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.

much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.

renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.

taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.

while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.

you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.

“are you okay with this?”

and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.

he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.

jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”

renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.

the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.

you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.

“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.

haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.

“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.

settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.

you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.

“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”

it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.

“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.

if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.

at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.

you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–

no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?

you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.

finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”

“who are you talking to?”

you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.

“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.

“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”

he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”

you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.

“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”

“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”

“…what?”

everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.

“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.

“like you want to kiss me.”

a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.

“am i wrong, pretty?”

judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.

his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”

normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.

he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.

you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.

no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.

“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”

you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.

you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”

your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.

“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”

everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.

though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”

even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.

“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.

“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”

his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”

you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.

you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.

he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”

your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.

in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.

“wait hyuck, let me–“

as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“

it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”

your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”

taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.

the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”

“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”

“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.

[ha-rinrin]

Little Brat

summary: She blew up your kitchen. Time to make her pay.

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 3k

Note:

WELCOME BACK I missed all of you so much, hope you guys didn't forget about me. I'm sorry for disappearing — I was focused on my academic comeback. I think I might be able to post more often (but no promises).

I noticed there's been a shortage in the Jinx x Reader tag, and a lot of you asked me to come back — and who am I to say no?

Anyway, I'm really happy to be back, even if I don't post daily like before. I hope you enjoy this new fic, which, by the way, was HARD to write. I'm really bad at writing smut, but I did my best.

TW: NSFW, overstimulation, strap-on, orgasm denial and control, top!reader x sub!Jinx, light degradation, teasing, and I think thats all, if I forgot something, im sorry

The fire alarm’s going off when you unlock the door. Again.

You don’t even flinch this time, just toss your keys onto the hallway table and step into the smoke.

It’s coming from the kitchen. Of course it is.

You walk in and see it: your custom-built, voice-controlled, top-of-the-line Piltover microwave blown wide open. The front panel’s cracked, the inside is scorched, and something definitely exploded.

Jinx is sitting on the counter like nothing happened—legs swinging like a child, soot on her cheek, a little too proud of herself.

“Hi, babe,” she says sweetly, waving a tiny screwdriver at you.

You blink. “What. Did you do.”

“Okay, so–” she starts, already smiling, “I was trying to make popcorn.”

You just stare at her.

“But then I thought… what if I gave it a boost? Just a little chemtech.”

She lifts a small, still-glowing power cell––clearly modified. “Y’know. To speed it up.”

The fire alarm shrieks again. A soft pop comes from the microwave.

“You blew up my microwave,” you say.

She shrugs. “I improved it. Technically.”

You don’t laugh. You don’t even blink.

You take one step closer, and Jinx’s smirk falters just slightly.

“Do you think I’m impressed?” you ask.

She leans back on her hands, still trying to play it cool. “Thought it might at least make you look at me.”

You glance at the mess, then back at her. “Oh, I’m looking.”

She quiets.

You place a hand on the counter beside her thigh, lean in just enough to make her press back against the cabinets.

“This what you wanted?” you ask, voice low. “To blow up my kitchen just so I’d come home and deal with you?”

Her eyes flicker. “Maybe.”

Another step and your knee’s between hers.

“You’re going to clean this up,” you say. “After.”

Her breath catches.

“Now get off the counter.”

She moves fast. Obedient. Like she’s been waiting for that tone all day.

She hops off the counter, but doesn’t move. Just stands there with that smug little tilt to her head, eyes flicking up and down like she’s deciding whether to listen to you at all.

You don’t give her the chance.

Your fingers close around her jaw–– not hard, but enough to stop her in her tracks. “Try me again, and you’ll be on your knees before you make it to the bedroom.”

She grins, breath hitching just a little. “Kinky threat. You sure you’re not the one who blew up the microwave?”

You don’t flinch.

“Keep running your mouth,” you murmur, “and I’ll make sure you’re too sore to use it later.”

That wipes the grin off her face. Almost.

Then she shrugs, deliberately slow. “Guess I better make it worth it, huh?”

You let go of her jaw.

“Bedroom. Now.”

She turns around with a smirk, strutting like she owns the place. “God, finally. I was starting to think you’d just let me get away with it.”

You follow, watching her every step.

“Not a chance.”

The bedroom door barely clicks shut before you’ve got her on the bed.

You don’t give her time to settle. You grab her wrist and push her downing the bed and onto her back, climbing over her like she’s already yours.

“Hands up,” you say––low, firm.

She obeys, too quickly, too eagerly, eyes flicking up to yours with that defiant spark still burning.

You drag your fingers slowly up her stomach, just under her shirt, and she shivers.

“You wanted attention,” you murmur, leaning in close. “Now you’ve got it. Let’s see how much of it you can take.”

Her breath catches, and she swallows hard, but she doesn’t look away. Doesn’t dare.

“Try anything bratty,” you add, hand sliding higher, “and I’ll make sure you don’t get to come tonight.”

And just like that, she’s quiet.

Not behaving––but quiet.

You don’t bother with slow.

Clothes come off in quick, practiced movements––yours first, then hers––until she’s bare beneath you, except for her panties. You leave those on.

On purpose.

She arches slightly, like she expects more, like she wants more, but you don’t give it to her.

Not yet.

Instead, you slide your hand down, press your palm flat over the soaked fabric, just enough for her to feel it––your heat, your control––without giving her what she really wants.

She squirms, breath shaky. “You’re doing it on purpose.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Of course I am.”

Your fingers move slow, dragging along the thin fabric, teasing the wet spot already blooming there. You circle her clit with maddening precision, just enough to make her whine.

She bucks her hips up, impatient.

You pin them down with your free hand. “Uh-uh. You don’t get to be greedy.”

Her hands tighten in the sheets above her head, body tense beneath yours.

“You blew up my kitchen,” you murmur, mouth brushing her jaw. “You’re lucky I’m even touching you.”

Your fingers press harder against her clit, slow and controlled. But you’re not done.

Her hands leave the sheets––one flying up to grab the pillow beside her head, the other fisting the blanket like she needs to hold on to something, anything, just to stay grounded.

You lean down, tongue dragging across her right nipple before wrapping your lips around it and sucking deep.

She gasps––loud, unrestrained––her hips jerking as your fingers rub tight, wet circles against her clit while your mouth teases her chest.

Your tongue flicks over the sensitive bud, then you bite––just a little. Just enough to make her cry out.

“F-fuck––” she moans, her body arching up into your mouth, down into your hand. Caught between both.

Her free hand flutters for a second, unsure, then lands shakily on your shoulder––digging in, nails pressing hard.

Your fingers don’t stop. Your mouth doesn’t either.

“Still squirming,” you murmur against her chest. “But you’re not telling me to stop.”

She doesn’t––can’t. Her breath’s a mess. Whimpers leave her mouth with every stroke and suck.

Then––just as her breathing stutters––you pull your mouth away.

And slow your hand.

She lets out a broken sound, high and needy.

She’s already dripping through the fabric.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties and peel them down slow––just to watch her squirm. She lifts her hips to help, breath stuttering as the cool air hits her soaked skin.

You toss them aside.

Then, without warning, you slide one finger into her pussy.

She gasps, sharp and breathless. Wet. So wet, you barely have to try.

You move slow. Intentionally slow. Just enough to make her ache, slick already coating your knuckles.

“Please,” she whispers, almost desperate.

You add a second finger.

Her thighs jerk, twitching hard, hips rocking before you press her back down with your free hand.

“Still so impatient,” you murmur.

She whines, eyes wide and glassy, her breath catching every time your fingers curl inside her.

You lean over her, lips brushing her jaw. “What happened to all that attitude, Jinx?”

She doesn’t answer, just bites her lip, thighs trembling as you pump your fingers a little deeper, a little rougher.

Then you add a third.

She gasps like she wasn’t ready for it, body tensing all over again, then melting into the mattress, legs shaking under your grip.

The slick sound of it fills the room––hot, messy, desperate.

You lean in closer, voice low and wicked against her ear.

“Next time you want attention,” you whisper, “just ask.”

She moans, helpless and breathless and already so close.

And you don’t stop.

You drag your thumb up and press it firmly against her clit, circling it slowly while your fingers move inside her––deep and deliberate.

She moans the second your thumb finds its rhythm––high and shaky, like she’s trying to hold it back but can’t.

Her thighs twitch with every stroke, already slick and trembling. You keep going, curling your fingers just right, then pulling back before she can get too close.

“Ah––god,” she gasps, hips bucking up. “Don’t––don’t stop––”

But you do.

You slow down, just slightly. Just enough to make her whine.

“No,” she breathes, voice cracking. “Please, don’t do that.”

You hum like you’re thinking about it, but your fingers are still moving––just barely, just enough to keep her strung out and desperate.

Every sound she makes now is a mess.

Tiny whimpers.

Breathless gasps.

The occasional broken “fuck” when your fingers hit just the right spot––then pull away again, cruel and calculated.

“Still think blowing up my kitchen was a good idea?” you murmur.

She shakes her head fast, eyes glassy, thighs clenching around your wrist.

“Then why,” you whisper, mouth brushing her ear, “should I let you come?”

She groans––loud and wrecked. “Please,” she begs, hips rolling, trying to chase your hand. “I’ll clean it––I’ll fix it––just please––”

You smirk, watching her fall apart.

“Not yet.”

And you keep going. Slow, deep pumps, curling just right so that they touch that spongy spot inside her that makes her see stars––then pulling back again.

Your thumb flicks her clit harder now, tight little circles that make her whimper.

But it’s not enough.

You lean down, catching one of her nipples between your teeth, biting gently as your fingers start slamming into her.

She yelps––loud and raw––back arching off the bed as the sudden overload of sensation hits her hard.

“F-fuck!”

Her whole body jolts.

You suck hard on her nipple, tongue dragging over the bud as your fingers pound into her and your thumb teases her clit in tight, wet circles.

Her back arches off the bed, hands clutching the sheets like she’s about to tear them. You don’t let up––your mouth, your fingers, your thumb––all working in rhythm.

“God––oh my god––” she cries, voice rising in pitch. “Wait––wait––”

You don’t.

Her thighs are shaking now, soaked and twitching, her head thrown back against the pillows.

She’s falling apart. Fast.

The shift from teasing to ruthless ruins her. Her hips jerk without rhythm, no control left in her body at all.

“Too much––” she gasps, voice cracking. “It’s too––”

“You can take it,” you growl, curling your fingers again. “You’re gonna take it.”

She sobs––loud and wrecked and completely undone.

And you keep going.

Fast. Deep. Merciless.

Exactly how she likes it.

She cums around your fingers.

No warning––just a broken cry and her entire body seizing up beneath you. Her back arches, mouth open in a silent scream before the moans finally catch up––loud, raw, and completely helpless.

You feel it the second it hits––her walls clenching tight, fluttering, pulsing around your fingers, squirting.

But you don’t stop.

Your mouth is still on her nipple, tongue dragging, sucking, teasing while your fingers keep going.

She gasps––sharp and panicked. “N-no––wait––”

You keep going.

Her hips jerk away from your hand, but there’s nowhere to go. You hold her there, pinned and trembling, pumping into her over and over while her legs shake and her voice breaks.

“Too much––too much––” she whines, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. Her hands claw at the sheets, one arm flinging up to grip your wrist, not pulling you away––just holding on.

Like she’s drowning.

Like she can’t take it, but she doesn’t want it to stop.

The overstimulation hits hard––her cries turn to sobs, every breath hitching, every sound wrecked and slurred and ruined.

You lean close, lips brushing her ear.

“Still think you can act like a brat in my kitchen?”

She shakes her head frantically, breathless.

“I didn’t hear you,” you murmur, fingers never slowing.

“N-no––no, I’m sorry––fuck––I’m sorry––”

You smile against her skin.

But you keep going. Just a little more.

Just until she breaks again.

Her moans and whimpers fill the room as she cums, but you’re not near finishing, as Jinx’s going down her hight ––thighs covered in her own juices–– you’re already moving, grabbing the bright blue strap-on, 4 cm of girth and 18cm long. 

Jinx’s a small girl, you're probably about to break the poor little thing in half.

She's still recovering when you hover over her, she's already so wet you don't even need any lub, she doesn't have time to register what is going on till she feels the tip of your blue cock already pressing at her entrance.

Her eyes widen, she has been dying to try the new toy, but now she's just so sensitive she isn't sure she can handle it.

“Wait–– I cant–– Too sensitive––” 

You don’t hesitate “You should’ve thought about that before blowing up my kitchen”

She lets out a soft, broken sound as the tip circles her entrance, slow, relentless. Not pushing in––just dragging, spreading the slick around, rubbing right where she’s sensitive. Rubbing your cook between her pink puffy folds, rubbing her clit a few times. 

You chuckle, taking your time. Running the shaft up and down her slit. Not pushing in. Not giving her what she wants.

Just watching her squirm.

Her hips twitch up, trying to take it, but you move just out of reach.

She groans in frustration, tears welling up in her lashes. “Please––fuck, just––”

You finally lean in, lips brushing her ear.

“You want this?” you whisper, dragging the head back to her entrance. “Beg for it.”

She moans––half pain, half pleasure, everything too much. “Please, please––I want it, I need it, just fuck me––”

And that’s when you push in.

Not gently.

Your cock slips past her slick entrance in one smooth, firm thrust, making her scream.

“Ah––too much––I can’t––”

“Oh, you can,” you growl, holding her hips tight. “And you will.”

She gasps, her body tensing, arching, trying to take the stretch as her walls clench around the thick toy. Her thighs are twitching again, eyes closed shut with overwhelmed pleasure.

You don’t move just yet.

You stay buried inside her.

Letting her feel the fullness.

Letting her realize just how deep you are.

She whimpers, completely wrecked already. “F-fuck, you’re gonna break me––”

You smirk.

And then you start moving.

Slow, deep thrusts at first––dragging your hips back just enough to make her feel it before slamming back in, harder, deeper each time.

Her body moves with it, pushed up the bed with every stroke. Her moans spill out helplessly, one after another, breathless and sweet.

A melody you never get tired of.

Jinx can feel the faux veins of your cock dragging against her walls, touching all the spots that make her dumb, the tip hitting her cervix. 

You can see the bulge of your cock inside her.

And then you start pounding.

Fast. Deep. Ruthless.

Her moans turn to cries.

High-pitched and broken.

The slap of skin against skin fills the room, echoing with every sharp thrust. Her whole body jolts with each one, pushed into the mattress like she weighs nothing.

You’re relentless now.

No mercy. No pause.

Just the thick strap-on slamming into her, deep and fast, grinding her deeper into the sheets.

She’s gasping for air, nails digging into the bed, her mouth open in a silent scream that only catches up a second later.

“F-fuck––too deep––too fast––”

You just growl, thrusting harder. “That’s the point.”

Her hands claw at the sheets. Her body can’t keep up. Every nerve in her is on fire, pleasure rippling through her in waves so intense they border on pain.

She’s soaked––completely, impossibly wet––slick pooling beneath her, dripping down your thighs, smearing between her legs with every thrust.

You grab one of her legs and throw it over your shoulder, angling deeper.

Her scream is immediate.

“God––oh god––please––”

You lean over her, one hand gripping her throat, thumb pressing just enough to make her whimper.

“You wanted this,” you growl against her ear, your cock still driving into her, hard and deep. “So take it.”

She sobs, overwhelmed, shaking, but she doesn’t tell you to stop.

Her hips meet yours on instinct now, trying to keep up, trying to take everything you give her.

Jinx a mess beneath you, mascara staining her face, lipstick smudge, tongue out like a dumb dog while her hands grab the pillow where her head is laying like a lifeline. 

Her clit’s begging for attention––swollen and flushed, untouched but throbbing.

You reach down between her legs and rub your thumb over it.

She screams.

The second you touch her, her body goes rigid, her back arching so hard it lifts her off the mattress. Her moans twist into helpless, choked sobs.

Her eyes roll back.

She’s so far gone.

You don’t stop.

Not with your cock, not with your thumb.

Circling her clit fast and tight, keeping the rhythm of your thrusts brutal and deep.

“Gonna come again?” you murmur darkly. “Already?”

She nods frantically, tears streaking her cheeks.

“Y-yes––please––please––I can’t––”

“You can,” you snarl, voice low and rough. “Come on my cock, Jinx.”

And she does.

She cums with a scream, her whole body convulsing. The orgasm rips through her like a shockwave––intense and shattering. Her thighs clamp around you, walls fluttering violently around the strap-on, soaking it all over again.

But you don’t stop.

Not even for a second.

You keep fucking her through it––deep, brutal thrusts that don’t let her catch her breath.

She sobs, completely gone, babbling your name between cries. “N-no––too much––’s too much––”

You grab her hips, slamming in harder. “I said you’d take it. So take it.”

She screams again––half-cry, half-moan–and comes again, barely a minute later.

A second orgasm, sharper than the first.

This one wrecks her, more than the three ones you already gave her.

Her whole body goes limp beneath you, twitching, broken.

And still––you don’t stop.

Just a few more thrusts, slow now, grinding in deep with every roll of your hips. Letting her feel it. Letting her drown in it.

By the time you finally pull out, she’s shaking.

Covered in sweat, lips parted, tears dried on her cheeks, body completely ruined.

You toss the toy aside and lean down, brushing her cheek with the back of your hand.

She’s barely conscious––blissed out and wrecked, blinking slowly as she looks up at you.

“Still think blowing up my kitchen was worth it?” you whisper.

She doesn’t answer.

She just moans softly––wrecked and dazed––and nods.

Like the little brat she is.

[leia-writes]

Hello!!! Could I request a heavily pregnant reader x In-ho? When In-ho didn't tell reader that he would be joining the games and left while she was sleeping and she threw a tantrum about it because she misses him and his scent and the guards try to signal him about it but he failed to notice. So when she saw him again she won't let him go. I need more sfw with this man please 🙏

-thank you so much🫶

Fall To Pieces

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: fall to pieces by avril lavigne

note: thanks for your request! hope this did your idea justice!

warnings: pregnancy, angst, fluff, mentions of violence

word count: 2,797

posted on: 1/16/2025

Your body ached as you slowly lowered yourself onto the soft leather loveseat, sitting next to your husband, Hwang In-ho. He had just arrived from the control room to your shared residence. The first game, Red Light, Green Light, was about to begin on the large screen in front of you.

You rubbed your pregnant belly as you relaxed into your seat, feeling like you could burst at any moment. After 8 months of carrying your first child together, you were ready for it to be over with. And it didn’t help that you had planned it so close to this year’s games. You wanted to have your baby right after the games ended to get the most out of your time together, but now you were completely anxious that you’d have the baby early and have to have it on the island. All you wanted to do was nest and be comfortable in your own home.

In-ho gave you a loving look. “How are you feeling, darling?” He reached his hand to yours on your stomach.

“Everything hurts. I’m tired. How long do we have to be here again?” you pouted.

“It won’t be too much longer, just a few days.” He reached his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed. You wanted to lean into him and rest on his shoulder but nothing felt comfortable. “This baby is killing me, you know.”

He looked at your exhausted face, pleading for respite, before gently pushing you away to readjust. “I know, darling. Why don’t you lean against me here and I’ll try to make you feel a little better?”

He turned his body towards you, pulling you to his chest so you could lay on him as you both laid across the sofa. The warmth of his chest brought a little comfort to your aching back. You sighed as he began to knead your neck and shoulder muscles.

He rubbed your shoulders down to your arms, tightly squeezing every so often to relax your muscles and warm your skin. You melted into his touch, letting out a content sigh.

“You know what else would make me feel better?”

Your thoughts dazed in your mind as you relaxed and imagined the most delicious ice cream you could think of. You were quickly interrupted by In-ho.

“That ice cream you like?”

You smiled, eyes closed, leaning on In-ho. It was getting late and you were so exhausted these days. “Of course. I wish we had some right now.”

He lazily rubbed your hair. “I know, I’m sorry. Do you want anything else?”

You sighed, slowly sitting up. “No. I’m just going to go to bed. I can’t stay up for this.”

In-ho stood up and walked with you to your side of the bed, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead as you laid down. 

You eyed him playfully. “What, are you going to tuck me in like a child now?” you teased.

He scoffed, looking away but laughing. “Just taking care of you, darling. Goodnight.”

You smiled, sinking further into your blanket, sleep already threatening to take over as In-ho turned out the light.

“Goodnight.”

~~~

The next morning you awoke to an empty bed. Not necessarily out of the ordinary, but you hated being apart from In-ho lately. With the baby coming, your duties had been severely limited, and you felt like you spent your days just waiting for In-ho to come back. 

You got ready for the day, but everything felt off. Normally, you’d hear In-ho and the others on the radio, especially with the games happening now. Except you didn’t hear In-ho once.

You got dressed. In-ho’s uniform was still in the closet.

You walked into the main room. In-ho’s mask was still on the side table. Along with a note.

“Go to the freezer.”

Anxiety stirred within you. Upon opening the freezer, you saw your favorite ice cream - along with another note. 

“I’m playing undercover. Staff knows. Don’t worry - be back soon.”

You were stunned, reading the note over and over as if your brain couldn’t absorb the information. You dropped the note and stormed into the main room, activating the display and selecting cameras. 

Multiple camera views appeared in front of you, and you scanned a sea of players and their numbers. After a few moments, you found Player 001.

In-ho.

Your In-ho.

Dread filled your body. You knew In-ho was keeping an eye on Gi-hun, but like this? How could he be so reckless? The guards would keep him safe, but still, you couldn’t help yourself from jumping to the worst possible outcomes. 

How could he leave you?

You collapsed onto the sofa, immediately crying. If you didn’t feel vulnerable enough before, you definitely did now. It felt like nothing was going to happen according to plan now - you’d have your baby early, and have it on the island instead of comfortably near home, and In-ho would die in the games just because he wanted to spite Gi-hun.

You hurled the remote to the screen, watching as it clattered on the floor. Frustration started to take over. In-ho had no right to abandon you at such an important time.

You snatched your radio from the table. “Officer.”

A brief moment of silence, then, “Yes, Captain.”

“Come here. Now.”

You waited a few minutes, distraught in silence. When the Officer appeared before you, you glared at him.

“Get him out now.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can. Now do it.”

“He said only to take him out if it’s an emergency.”

You scoffed. “Tell him it’s an emergency then.”

He shifted uneasily. “I can’t go against orders.”

Your eyes bore through the officer’s mask as you contemplated what to do. In-ho would be two steps ahead of you no matter what you tried to do. There was no getting him back.

At least through the Officer.

You sighed in frustration, looking away. “Get out.”

The Officer promptly walked away. Once the elevator doors closed, you let yourself cry again. You just couldn’t believe you were being put in this position. All you wanted was to go home with In-ho, but instead you felt abandoned by everyone at the worst possible time. You were used to working alongside In-ho and having just as much of a voice as he does, but now you felt like everyone just saw you as his pregnant wife.

You turned off the screen and walked back to bed, your back aching intensely, taking a nap and hoping In-ho would miraculously be there when you woke up.

~~~

Of course, he wasn’t.

You watched the screen throughout the day, observing how In-ho slowly infiltrated Gi-hun’s group. Jealousy wracked your body - how did they deserve to be with In-ho more than you? It was clear why In-ho stepped in but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking irrationally. 

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, knowing he wouldn’t be there when you woke up. Even though he would sometimes go to bed after you, at least he was still with you through the night. Your only consolation was to pull up a camera view on your tablet so you could watch him as you tried to get comfortable in the cold, lonely bed.

The next day, you watched In-ho and the players go through the six-legged pentathlon. In-ho looked like he was even enjoying himself for a few moments. Obviously he needed to fit in, but did he really have to be so brazen about it, knowing you were watching?

You tried so hard to stay calm, knowing stress would be the worst for your baby right now. But occasionally you’d feel a little kick, especially when you were watching In-ho, and your maternal instincts couldn’t help but take over. You had to come up with a plan to get a message to him.

After the game was over, you wandered over to the guard’s quarters, being sure to avoid the Officer. Before the guards turned in for the night, you pulled one aside.

“You need to tell him to come back.”

The guard froze in place, clearly glancing at your stomach. None of the guards had seen you since you started showing. 

You squeezed his arm tighter. “When he goes to the bathroom, pull him aside and bring him back.”

“I- I don’t know who w-will be there when-”

“I don’t care who it is, make sure it happens.”

You quickly walked away, not wanting to draw attention to anyone nearby or looking on the cameras. 

Once you arrived back home, you sat on the couch and attempted to get comfortable. You planned on watching the cameras all night until you could see In-ho leave and the guards bring him back. You didn’t want to focus on anything else, even though your body ached with pain and sorrow.

Inevitably, after a while, you couldn’t fight your body anymore and you fell asleep. You slept for another few hours before being woken up by a commotion on the screen.

“-with me this way.” 

You saw In-ho talking to a pink guard. “Why? Isn’t the bathroom this way?”

The guard paused, clearly trying to come up with something. “No? This way. Let’s go.”

In-ho scoffed, and you saw a couple other players approach behind him. “What are you talking about?”

The guard noticed the other players joining, clearly ruining his plan now. He sighed. “My apologies. This way.”

In-ho eyed the guard as they walked the correct way towards the bathrooms now. He glanced at a camera nearby, unknowingly looking right at you. His expression was indecipherable.

Your heart ached, and you felt a kick in your stomach. In-ho looked away and proceeded as normal. Your plan had failed.

~~~

The next day you watched as In-ho played through Mingle. You wondered what he was thinking in these types of moments - did he care for the people around him, or just see them as nothing more than pawns, even though he was getting to know them personally? It felt crazy to question it, but you couldn’t stop your mind from wondering if he thought of you, or if he wondered how you were doing.

Terrible, you’d tell him. Awful without him.

After the game, you set up another attempt to contact In-ho, slipping a note into his gimbap and instructing the guards to give In-ho that specific one. You went back home to watch your plan unfold again, hopefully successfully this time. You cheered internally when they gave him the correct gimbap, and patiently waited for him to reach the note. 

Unfortunately with tensions rising amongst the players, In-ho was distracted and never even finished the gimbap enough to reach the note. You covered your face in frustration. There was never a time you’d seen In-ho not finish his food. It was as if he was deliberately foiling your plans. 

The situation was becoming worse and worse. The more time passed, the more anxiety you felt that you could give birth without In-ho there. And even more importantly, the more the players became violent towards each other. How far could the guards really go to protect In-ho? Another player could definitely harm him before any guards stood a chance at protecting him.

As you expected, a fight broke out that night. In-ho was safely tucked away under a bed, but things were escalating fast. Your heart raced. It was becoming too much too quickly, and you couldn’t help but scream orders over the radio. “Why is this still going on?! End it now!”

“Suppress,” the officer spoke over the radio. Guards immediately went into the room to stop the fighting, and luckily In-ho was unscathed. As the guards were checking the dead bodies, some of the players suddenly snatched their guns and began shooting. You watched in horror as several players began killing the guards, In-ho even joining them.

Once the guards were gone, you saw an organized effort to gather all guns and ammo and begin a drive towards the control room. In-ho was still with them. You were worried sick for him but hoped this was finally his chance to come back. Several voices spoke over each other in a frenzy on the radio as guards mobilized against the players. All you could do was watch helplessly as you saw In-ho deliberately put himself in danger. 

His recklessness was going to give you a heart attack. 

You screamed through the radio, “If anyone even gets close to hitting him, even so much as a graze, I will kill you myself.” You scanned through the surveillance cameras and watched as In-ho and the players moved towards the control room, one by one running out of ammo. In-ho strategically navigated two players into the back hallways, coming up behind Gi-hun and Jung-bae. For a moment, In-ho looked into the camera.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew he was finally coming home.

You watched as In-ho finally turned on the group, losing the Young-il persona. It was almost as if he was enjoying it. After killing the two players with him, he grabbed his radio. “Start wrapping things up,” he ordered, before looking up at the camera again. 

“Lockdown all residences.”

Before you could even process what he said, you heard the elevator doors lock, a red light illuminating above it. Your only way in or out. He had locked you in. 

Fuming, you called out on the radio. “What are you doing?”

In-ho responded calmly. “Keeping you safe.”

“Am I that helpless to you?” you spat. You were, in fact, feeling that helpless, but you’d never let it be known.

In-ho ignored you, which made you even more mad. You shut off your radio, turned off the screen, and stormed into your bedroom. If he was going to play with your emotions like this, you had no need to rush to him anyways. He could find you when he felt like it.

You curled up in bed crying, pulling the blankets to your chin and mindlessly rubbing your belly to soothe yourself. You were exhausted but couldn’t bear to fall asleep then. In your distress, you didn’t even hear the elevator door open, or footsteps approaching from the hallway, or your bedroom door opening.

“Darling.”

You quickly turned your head towards In-ho, your face swollen from crying. As soon as you saw him, all of your anger and frustration melted away into relief.

Your lip trembled, tears flowing even more now as you slowly sat up in bed. “In-ho…”

He rushed to your side and embraced you, cradling your head in his hand and rubbing your back with the other. You clung to him desperately, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

You wanted to yell at him, shove him away from you, hit him, but you couldn’t manage anything except breaking down in his arms. 

“My poor darling. Are you alright?” He pulled away to get a good look at you.

Shocked, you glared at him through blurry eyes. “Of course I’m not okay, how could you ask me that?” You finally had the wherewithal to shove his shoulder. “How could you abandon me like that? What if the baby came, hm? What if someone killed you?!”

You were becoming frantic. In-ho embraced you again, trying desperately to calm you down. “Shh, darling, it’s alright now. Everything’s okay.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, weeping. “Don’t ever do that to me ever… ever again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

You sighed. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

He kissed the top of your head and helped you stand up. “I know. I won’t.” He wiped your face before giving you a long kiss. “I missed you, you know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Didn’t seem like it,” you said before shoving him again. “Did you make some new friends?”

He smiled at your sarcasm and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the main room and helping you to sit on the couch.

“One more thing.”

He ran to the kitchen before rushing back with your ice cream. “You didn’t eat any of it?”

You scoffed. “How could I? You left me inconsolable for days.”

He sat next to you with your favorite treat. “I wanted you to feel a little better,” he pouted, looking almost dejectedly at you.

You laughed and leaned on his shoulder. “This wouldn’t have helped anyways. I just wanted you.” 

In-ho kissed the top of your head before wrapping his arms around you. He’d missed you so much during his time away, no matter how necessary it was.

“I know. I love you. Let’s go home soon, okay?”

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Girl Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

next chapter | series mastelist | main masterlist

Summary: If Spencer thought being secretly in love with you was hard, having to avoid you in the hallway was even worse.

Words: 4,8k.

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of jail. painter!reader. post prison reid. lack of communication. the reader has a cat. angst, so much angst. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I struggled a lot writing this because it's a roller coaster, so sorry in advance.

“How long? It's not a problem to take care of everything, but I'd like to know if you'll be okay or—” Your voice almost cracked for a moment, your eyes still trying to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. Spencer's sheets were still wrapped around your body, and you felt so connected to them that the thought of getting up while still watching him toss and turn looking for his shoes was too much.

“I don't think more than a day or two, I'll be fine.” He stopped his chaotic steps for a second and stared at you as if to make a promise. He paused, glancing away as if to compose himself before adding, “I have some work in Mexico. It came up last minute, or I’d have told you earlier.” His voice faltered, almost imperceptibly, and the words sounded rehearsed, like he was repeating something he’d practiced.

You frowned slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “Work in Mexico?” you echoed. “Since when do they send you out of the country for cases?”

“It’s not that kind of work,” he said quickly, his tone just a little too smooth, a little too practiced. “It’s…consulting. A conference on forensic advancements, some behavioral workshops, things like that.” He kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke, as if afraid to meet your eyes. “I won’t be gone long.”

You didn’t question him further. Why would you? Spencer wasn’t the type to lie, and the way his brows knit together, the way his voice softened with the promise, “I’ll be back soon,” made you believe him. But something about the way he shifted his weight, the way he avoided looking directly at you, left a faint unease in your chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have dinner with you yesterday. And breakfast now. I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if trying to fill the silence.

You tightened the sheets around yourself, curling into their warmth, feeling the lingering heat from the side of the bed where he had been only moments before. It felt like he had never really left, the space around you still filled with the faint echo of his presence. Watching him now, his movements a little frantic, his gaze flickering toward the clock every so often, made you feel like he was slipping away too quickly. A part of you, small and selfish, wanted to ask him to stay. To sit back down, to let the world and his trip wait just a little longer.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you whispered, barely above a breath, as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment, “Promise?”

Spencer’s gaze softened even further, a tenderness washing over his features as he moved closer to you. His lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite touch his eyes but was filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Promise,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle, as though sealing a pact between the two of you. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing your forehead before his lips followed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your skin. The kiss was tender, quiet, and almost reluctant, as though he didn’t want to pull away from this moment either. For a moment, his forehead rested against yours, the space between you vanishing entirely. It felt like the world had narrowed to just this, just the two of you, and all the invisible lines you had drawn between friendship and something more blurred into nothing.

But before you could do something stupid, he pulled back, with his eyes lingering on you, still filled with a softness that made your heart flutter. “Have you seen my shoe?” he asked, his voice playful yet tinged with the usual frustration of his misplaced belongings.

You let out a small laugh, still wrapped in the sheets, the warmth from them mingling with the warmth of the moment. “Oh, you’re a mess, little boy,” you teased, your voice light and affectionate, the fondness for him slipping out in every word.

“Mittens take it again?” Spencer asked, his eyes glinting with playful exasperation. He had grown accustomed to your cat’s antics, and he could hardly be surprised at this point.

You nodded, grinning as you pointed to the underside of the bed. “Ding ding, genius,” you replied, your voice light and teasing as his gaze followed your finger. Sure enough, there it was, tucked under the bed, another casualty of your mischievous cat’s nightly adventures.

He grumbled good-naturedly, but a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if the chaos of the morning didn't matter when you were here with him and everything felt so domestic. As he bent down to pick up his shoe, you couldn't help but watch, your heart swelling at the sight of the man you were so in love with, even in his messiest moments. There was something about him, something in that moment, that made him feel so good, as if everything else could wait and the obvious fact that he didn't feel the same way about you didn't matter. Anyone outside the room generally didn't matter. For now, it was just the two of you, tangled in sheets and laughter, clinging to a piece of time that was all yours and would be the only thing you'd have left when he was gone.

“She loves you, that’s why she does it…I guess she wants your attention,” you said, your voice trailing off, and the taste of the words felt sour in your mouth. It sounded too much like you were talking about yourself rather than your pet, and the realization hit you like a cold wave. It made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain, and you immediately wished you could take the words back. But you didn’t.

He glanced at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “I read something about that,” he said, his voice light, but you could tell he didn’t entirely understand the weight behind your words. It didn’t matter. You were used to it by now.

“You read about everything.” You gave him a small, rueful smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, the bitterness of the moment creeping into your voice. You were fine with it, you told yourself. Fine with everything.

He glanced at the clock, a quiet sigh escaping him. “I have to go…it’s late,” he said, and you could hear the quiet resignation in his voice. The moment, it seemed, had reached its inevitable end.

“Okay.” The word slipped out of your mouth more dryly than you intended, and you hated the way it sounded. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want the moment to end. But it was already slipping away, and you knew it. “But before you go…come here.”

He hesitated, looking at you with uncertainty in his eyes. But then, slowly, he took a step toward you, his face softening when you reached out to touch his cheek. The moment your fingers brushed against his skin, he shivered, and your heart skipped a beat at the contact.

“Is…is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if sensing the shift between you.

“No, I just want to say goodbye properly.” You shifted closer, your heart hammering as you moved toward him, your lips hovering near his. The temptation to close the distance, to kiss him, burned inside you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“Take care and come back,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you meant. You kissed his forehead gently, your fingers instinctively smoothing his hair down as you did. “Now it’s like you have my blessing,” you added with a faint smile.

He smiled at you, the warmth in his expression a bittersweet thing that made your heart ache. “Thank you, and good luck tomorrow with my godchildren’s.” His voice was soft, but the moment was already passing, slipping away, and with it, the space between you both. He gathered his things, gave you one last lingering look, and then turned toward the door.

You stood there, watching him go, the weight of what you didn’t say crashing down on you. The door clicked shut behind him, and you felt a hollow ache in your chest, a longing you couldn’t quite name.

God, you really wanted kissed him.

God, he really wanted you kissed him.

When Spencer opened his eyes for the first time in a cell and felt a sickening jolt of disorientation. The dirty walls and a rickety bench stared back at him, mocking the comforting image of his organized room and, more painfully, the thought of you. The absence of your laughter, your touch, your presence, everything that had once grounded him, hit him like a freight train. He knew something was wrong.

As the days blurred together and the evidence piled against him, he clung to the belief that this nightmare wasn’t real. Every hearing, every damning piece of evidence that chipped away at his freedom, felt surreal. Even when the judge handed down his sentence, condemning him to months behind bars, the finality of it didn’t register. What shattered him was the moment he filled out his visitation schedule and consciously omitted your name. He hadn’t wanted you to see him like that. He didn’t ask anyone to explain, didn’t try to soften the blow of his absence. That, he thought, was the point of no return, the moment he lost everything.

But Spencer was so wrong. The true breaking point came when he walked out of that hellhole, finally free, and climbed the stairs to his apartment. Each step was a physical ache, the pain in his chest sharper and heavier with every step. His hands trembled as he reached for his keys, the jangling sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. His gaze fell on your door, just a few steps away. The familiar sight sent his stomach into knots.

For the first time, he wished you wouldn’t be there.

The thought was alien, unnatural. You had always been there, and he had always wanted you there. When he was too drained to cook, you’d suggest their usual coffee spot, your smile lighting up the grayest of mornings. When his back ached from long nights bent over case files, you’d massage his shoulders, insisting scented candles could fix his bad posture and his bad days. When his mother’s health took a downturn, and he felt his world crumbling, you’d hold him, stroke his back, and promise that everything would be okay. And when his social battery was drained at reunions, you’d step in with your bad jokes or your art facts, making the world feel manageable again.

Now, standing in front of his own door, his fingers clumsy with the lock, all he could hope for was silence. He didn’t know how to face you, didn’t know if he could explain the broken pieces of himself.

His door creaked open, and he was greeted by the familiar scent of the home he had only dreamed of for the last while. It was overwhelming: clean clothes, slightly sweet candles, and something undeniably yours. The apartment was exactly as he remembered it, as if time had stopped the moment he left three months ago and never returned until now. His heart shrank as he took it all in: the blanket you insisted on leaving on the couch, the pile of books you always meant to return to his library but never did, his fish swimming around as if nothing had happened, and even the plants by the window, thriving despite his absence because you had surely watered them without fail.

And then there were the little details, things that told him that you had not moved away from this place, from him. The plate you always left for his cup of coffee, the one you gave him last Christmas, was still on the counter. His favorite cardigan, the one he thought he had misplaced, was folded neatly on the back of the chair and smelled of the baby softener you liked to use. His books were exactly where he had left them, although one of them had a bookmark you had made, a telltale sign that he had read it and was waiting for him to come back to comment on it, as you always did.

But he hadn’t returned.

Not then. And maybe not now at all.

Suddenly, the phone in his pocket rang, its shrill tone slicing through the heavy silence like a sharp reminder of reality. The vibration against his skin startled him, his body tensing as he pulled the device out. His gaze flickered down to the screen, and the name that appeared caused a knot to form in his stomach: JJ. His thumb hovered over the screen, his mind racing, unsure if he was ready for the conversation he knew would follow. But deep down, he knew there was no avoiding her. Jennifer wouldn’t let him slip away unnoticed, and if he didn’t answer, she might show up at his door, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he had.

With a resigned sigh, he swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Is everything okay?”

The concern in his own voice surprised him. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe he was just desperate to shift the focus away from himself.

“Everything’s fine,” JJ replied, her voice steady but laced with something deeper. “I just wanted to check in. You’ve been…quiet.”

He exhaled slowly, staring out the window, the city lights stretching before him and the memories cutting deep. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “Just trying to catch up on things. All good here.”

“Okay,” she said softly, and there was a pause, a hesitation that made his pulse quicken. He could almost hear her thinking, weighing her next words. Then she cleared her throat, the sound small but deliberate. “Have you seen…her?”

The question hit him like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs. He turned away from the window abruptly, pacing the length of the apartment as if motion could somehow ease the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his chest. “No,” he said quickly, too quickly. His jaw clenched, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I don’t know if I want to.”

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, and he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. How could he say that when every thought of you still made his heart ache? When the idea of you haunted him, so vivid and constant it felt like you were in every shadow of his empty apartment?

Jennifer’s sigh crackled over the line, heavy and filled with the weight of unspoken truths. “She’s been asking about you,” she said softly, her voice tinged with that unshakable sadness she tried so hard to hide. “Every time I see her. I think…” She hesitated again, and Spencer could hear her swallow hard, choosing her next words carefully. “I think you owe her an explanation.”

He swallowed saliva and tightened his fingers around the phone. JJ was right, of course. She always had been. But the idea of facing you, of trying to explain everything without drowning in tears, seemed impossible. How could he tell you the truth? How could he look you in the eye and admit that he had spent the last three months in jail, paying for a crime he had not committed? That he had done things that he deeply regretted, that made him sick and a horrible person?

You deserved better. You always had.

You were a blessing to anyone who had you around, and he knew that better than anyone. That's why he recommended you as a babysitter for JJ's kids, that's why he insisted that you come out to the bar with him and the team several times, that's why he told his mother about you, and that's why he gave you unlimited access to every single part of his life and told you things he'd never told anyone else. You were the one he thought of during those long, sleepless nights behind bars when JJ brought drawings from her boys. He imagined you there with them, sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping Henry with his homework or letting Michael pile blocks on your lap. It was silly, and heartbreaking, but the thought of you, of your warmth and your kindness, had kept him going.

“I have to go…clean some things,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, so desperate to run away from the topic.

“Okay,” JJ replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “Tell me if you need anything.”

Before Spencer could find the strength to speak, the line fell silent. The hum of the apartment filled the space around him, oppressive in its quiet, and he stood there, phone still clenched in his hand. The weight of it, the weight of everything, settled deeper into his chest, making it hard to breathe. He stared at the counter as if it could offer him some sort of escape from the quiet agony that had overtaken him. With a long exhale, he dropped the phone, his fingers lingering on it for a second longer than necessary, before pulling away with a heavy sense of finality.

Just as he was about to move, his mind already drowning in the whirlpool of thoughts he was so desperate to escape, a soft, muted thud broke the oppressive stillness of the apartment. The noise was faint, almost imperceptible, but in the suffocating quiet, it reverberated like a crack of thunder. His breath caught, his heart skipping a beat as his body went rigid. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the sound, his eyes locking onto the open balcony door.

A sleek black shape emerged from the shadows, moving with a practiced elegance that seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. Mittens.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking on the single syllable, hoarse and unsteady as if even addressing his might shatter the fragile thread of control he was clinging to.

The cat paused for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if considering him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. Then, without a second thought, she padded over, her steps confident and unhurried, the soft click of her claws against the floor the only sound in the room. She jumped lightly onto the couch, then onto the small table beside him, her movements fluid and practiced. As she reached him, Mittens sniffed his hand delicately, then nuzzled it gently, her warm, soft fur brushing against his fingertips. The familiar rumble of her purring filled the air, a soothing, almost hypnotic sound that cut through the tension and wrapped around him like a blanket.

Spencer let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the apartment. He hesitated, his fingers brushing the soft fur of her head, unable to stop himself from reaching out.

Mittens leaned into his touch, her purr intensifying as her little body pressed against his hand, seeking warmth, some affection. She didn't care about the months she hadn't seen him or just heard his name spoken a thousand times by you. To her, he was still Spencer, the same one who had fed her, played with her, and cared for her whenever he could. That was enough. She was very happy.

“You still remember me,” he murmured, a faint, fragile smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like an eternity.

The cat blinked up at him, her green eyes half-lidded with contentment, as if to say, Of course I do.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his hand resting on her soft fur, letting her purring fill the empty spaces inside him. It was such a small thing, her presence, but it reminded him of you, of the life he’d left behind, and the warmth he hadn’t realized he’d needed so desperately until now.

But the calm didn’t last, and Spencer’s heart nearly stopped when he heard a soft knock on the door. His gaze snapped up from the cat, who was now lazily sprawled across the arm of the couch, her purring uninterrupted. The knock came again, this time paired with a voice that sent a jolt through his chest.

“Mittens?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but he knew it instantly. It was you.

Another knock followed, gentle but insistent. “Are you here, baby?”

He froze, every muscle in his body tightening as he registered the sound of your voice. You were here, in his apartment—or at least on the threshold of it. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to see you again.

The cat, oblivious to the tension that suddenly filled the room, stretched lazily before hopping down from the couch. Her tail flicked behind her as she padded toward the door, her movements casual, as if she belonged here. Her eyes were fixed on you as you stepped through the open door, your figure partially silhouetted by the light from the outside.

“There you are,” you said softly, your voice brimming with relief. The warmth in your tone hit him like a physical blow, and he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sound threatening to escape.

You crouched down to scoop the cat into your arms, your movements gentle and practiced. “You scared me,” you murmured, cradling her against your chest. Your voice softened, carrying that familiar tenderness he’d missed so desperately. “You’ve been running off so much lately.”

Spencer pressed himself against the shadowed wall, willing himself to disappear. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even look at you for fear his body might betray him. The apartment was dark enough to hide him, but he knew the signs of his presence were everywhere. His phone abandoned on the counter, the faint indentation on the couch, the way the air seemed to shift with the weight of him being there.

You didn’t notice. Your focus was entirely on Mittens as you stroked her soft fur, your touch so gentle it made Spencer ache. “I know you miss him,” you murmured, the words falling from your lips so quietly they almost didn’t reach him. “I do too.”

The confession tore through him like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. His chest tightened, and he bit down hard on his lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

You lingered for a moment, your gaze sweeping over the apartment as if you could feel his presence, even if you didn’t see him. Then, with a soft sigh, you turned back toward the door.

“Let’s go home, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Mittens’ head before stepping into the night.

The door closed with a quiet click, and Spencer was left alone once more. His knees buckled, and he sank onto the couch, his hand trembling as it pressed against his face. The silence was deafening, a hollow, aching void that swallowed him whole.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe fate didn’t want you to see him again…at least, not yet.

But then, the next morning, it happened.

You were returning to your apartment, groceries in hand, when you saw him.

He was standing at the end of the hallway with his back to you, as if he was leaving his apartment. As soon as you saw him, your heart skipped a beat and all your rational thoughts vanished. It seemed like an eternity since you had seen him, even though it had only been a few months. Your first instinct was to run to him, throw yourself into his arms, and demand an explanation, but something about his posture made you hesitate. He was stiff, distant, almost sad. His usual warmth was nowhere to be seen. And yet there was something different about him: his long hair, now a bit wilder and more unruly, framed his face in a way you had never seen before. Some curls fell over his eyes, and his beard had grown thicker and darker. The change in his appearance was shocking.

Without thinking, you dropped your groceries at your door and hurried toward him. “Spencer!” you called, your voice trembling with a rush of emotions you had bottled up for months.

He turned slowly, and for a split second, his eyes locked with yours. There was something in his gaze, a flicker of recognition, maybe guilt, but it quickly faded, replaced by a cool distance you had never seen in him before, at least not with you. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. It was instinct, more than anything, to wrap your arms around him like you always used to do. The warmth of his body felt like home, like everything you had missed was right there in your arms. You held on tightly, breathing him in as if this would somehow make up for the absence. You’d been so lonely without him, and this, just holding him again, felt like it would fix everything that has been wrong lately.

But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t move an inch. This time his body was rigid, unyielding, as if he didn’t feel you or want you around. He did not return your hug. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge it or really want it. His arms remained stiff at his sides, and you could feel his breath hitching against your neck, but he didn’t respond. It was like hugging a stranger, someone you once knew but no longer recognized.

“God, I missed you…” You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, trying to gauge his expression, but his face was unreadable. His long hair now brushed against the collar of his shirt, the unruly beard framing his jawline. But his eyes were the only thing that stayed the same, cold and distant, void of the tenderness they once held. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer immediately. The silence hung between you, thick and oppressive, before he finally spoke, his voice flat. “Sorry, I…I don’t think I’m the best person for that right now.”

Your heart sank, the warmth of the hug and reunion evaporating into a hollow chill. “What happened?” you whispered, feeling the pain creep into your voice. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you say anything? I was so worried for you and JJ don’t say so much.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look like Spencer, not the one you had known, kind, warm, and always ready to offer comfort. His face was hard, closed off, and distant. He seemed…different, almost cold. “I’m sorry, I needed to get to…work,” he said, his voice clipped and curt. “I didn’t think you’d be awake at this hour.”

You felt a pang of confusion and hurt at his words. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to see me? You haven’t been here in months,” you said, the bitterness creeping into your voice. “You just disappear, and then you show up here, like nothing happened? You sleep here? I came to your apartment last night, and you weren’t there.”

He didn’t react. No apology, no acknowledgment of the pain he’d caused. He just stood there, cold, distant. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words almost sounding like an afterthought. “I had work to do. It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “That’s all you’ve got after disappearing for three months?”

Finally, his eyes met yours again, but there was no warmth in them. No tenderness, no familiarity. His gaze was hard, as cold as his words. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said sharply, his tone final, cutting through the air like a knife.

It felt like a punch to the gut. The warmth that had once filled your heart whenever Spencer entered a room, the gentle care he had shown you, was now replaced by something colder. It was as if the person you had known, the person who had been your friend, your confidant, had vanished along with the man who used to leave you sweet notes and show up with your favorite food after a rough day.

“You…you don’t owe me anything?” you whispered, your heart breaking with each word.

The silence stretched between you again, suffocating. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I’m sorry.”

But it was hollow, empty. A formality. Not an apology that meant anything.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned, walking away. “I have to go,” he said, his voice softer now, but still detached.

Before you could say anything else, he turned, leaving as quickly as he had appeared. And just like that, he was gone again, leaving you alone with the deafening silence and a heart full of questions.

Just like your worst fear: Spencer was avoiding you in the hallway.

[cybrasigilism]

fic request: the votes in season two turn out in favor of o, and players are dropped off. thanos and the reader are dropped off together and you can decide where to go from there 🤔

Sensual Seduction (Thanos/Choi Su-bong/Player 230 X F! Reader ONESHOT)

warning: smut, act shocked ladies and gentlemen | not proofread | lowercase intended | lowkey 🌽 with no plot | dom! thanos | dry humping | public sex | degradation | teasing | PiV | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: stream sensual seduction by snoop dogg PUHLEASE 😫🙏

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the belt, reader’s discretion is advised

you thought you hated thanos. i mean, how could you not have. sure he was quite the sweet talker, and there were a few times you felt slight butterflies when he called you “señorita”— but his overly smug nature overpowered that. the way he and that loser friend of his would always corner weaker players and force them to succumb to voting their way boiled your blood.

you hated how he got away with being a douche to those he didn’t like; you hated how he acted like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread; you hated that he of all people was the person you wound up being stranded with post the “X” vote winning; in short, you hated him.

so that’s why, when you found yourself making out with him— you were beyond shocked.

you can’t deny that you were totally immersed in the kiss, feeling his hands roam your bare skin as he pulled you onto his lap— it was like the two of you forgot just how much he got on your nerves in the entirety of the games.

i mean, how could you not cast those feelings aside as he rolled his hips up into yours, drawing a raspy moan out of you as you felt just how hard he was. you followed his lead, grinding down onto him while he guided your hips with a firm grip. the sounds he was making only made you ache for him more.

“fuck, senorita.. maybe you didn’t hate me that much..” thanos bit his lip, bucking his hips up into you suddenly; a loud whimper pulled from your lips. “oh god, y—ou… you’re so..” “so what?” he echoed, tilting his head back with a groan as your pace grew sloppy. “shit, you’re already falling apart and we haven’t even fucked yet..”

you forgot what it was you were trying to say to him, a potentially witty quip lost to a hot session of dry humping. just then, thanos held your hips to a stop. you whined, trying to move again but he held you down too firmly.

“sorry baby, but don’t you wanna fuck me?” you were so blissed out already, all you could do was nod your head in a somewhat sensical manner. he tapped your hips lightly, signaling you to get off his lap before he began undoing his pants. “alright, i’ll fuck you good then..”

——————————————-

and did he ever hold true to that statement. in mere moments, thanos had your legs over his shoulders while he fucked you senseless. you’d never been so loud having sex with someone before, but then again, no one’s ever fucked you quite like this.

you could tell he was trying to mask his own noises, but every so often a moan or whimper would slip and it drove you up the wall. he definitely took notice, it was hard to miss your pussy squeezing down onto his dick every time you heard him whine for you.

“yeah? d’ you like when i moan for ya’? fuck, you’re such a little slut, squeezing around my cock like that, you know?” his degradation may as well have fallen on deaf ears, you were past vocalized response at this point— well, anything beyond moaning, that is.

his pace was unbelievable, pounding into you senselessly as if he had been waiting to jump your bones since your first meeting after red light, green light. you felt as though you were on cloud nine and you never wanted to come down.

yeah, if anyone had told you that you’d be happily getting dicked down by the one person you thought you hated before— you’d have laughed in their face.

but who’s laughing now?

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hey y’all! i feel like i’ve been posting few and far between and i apologize for that, works been busy and i have been struggling with some personal matters but i tried my best to pull together a post for you all!

to the anon that requested this i apologize if this was shorter than you hoped for but i truly hope you enjoyed reading! thank you for trusting me with your request 💌

have a fantastic day/night lovelies 💋

🏷️: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

[noyasmashing]

I believe sperm retention is good for men's health so that's the plot line. We are always so kind and gentle with Tamaki(Amajiki) but today we want to test how good of a boy he truly is. We tell him that today he isn't allowed to cum at all and if he succeeds we will be so proud of him, but if he fails he will get his first punishment. Hope he's a good boy :(

Can we get hcs pretty please? *Bats my pretty lashes*

★ NOT AT ALL. tamaki!

• warning: Tamaki Amajiki + gn!dom reader, edging, praise, lots of dirty talk, mentions of punishments and spanking.

• author note: no proof read for this one 😔 sorry for being so inactive, once I’m not traveling so much I promise I’ll be able to post more often.

Tamaki's stomach would doing flips at the thought of surrendering his pleasure, a concept he'd never experienced before. He does the most to obey your demands, even if it meant embarrassing himself. But this was the first time he'd been asked to give up his own pleasure, and it left him distraught. His face would be contorted in a mixture of pouts and whimpers, his eyes welling up with tears as he clutched at your hips in desperation.

Initially, Tamaki would likely protest vehemently, as the idea of sperm retention obviously a punishment. However, if you insisted, he would have no choice to obey you. Despite the struggle it would be for him, the thought of you having full control over whether he can climax or not is a major turn on for him. The possibility of receiving praise if he does manage to succeed adds to the excitement. Let alone the idea of you being proud of him is enough to prevent him from ejaculating, no matter how much he desires to do so.

Alternatively, he might not be able to contain his orgasm and ends up coming all over his sad little tummy :( Even though he might find pleasure in the punishment you administer, he would feel extremely guilty. He would immediately break down in tears, whimpering and apologizing for his actions, promising to be a good boy. However, deep down, he enjoys the idea of defiance and rough treatment, as long as he ends up being your good boy by the end of the night. Though the punishment wouldn't be overly harsh, he would take it with equanimity, counting each spank and murmuring "sorry" and "thank you" in between.

"Have you gotten way too spoiled?" you asked, your voice warm and gentle as your finger continued to caress the fabric of his clothes, tracing the outline of his cock.

The shy boy shook his head, still avoiding eye contact. "Have you gotten… pretty spoiled?" you asked, your tone softening as you drew a little closer to him.

His ears flushed a deeper crimson as he nodded almost imperceptibly, the slightest movement betraying his admission. "Yeah?" you cooed, coaxing him to speak up, though he couldn’t find the courage to.

You exhaled a soft sigh, tracing the contours of his tip with your finger, moving at a torturously slow pace. "Do I need to be rougher with you?" you breathed, your question laced with a hint of curiosity.

His lip curled downward at the suggestion, and he subtly pushed into your hand, as if seeking more. "Meaner," he corrected, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you want me to be meaner?"

This time, he nodded, his gaze locked on yours, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of desire and vulnerability as they seemed to glaze over and dilate. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Yeah?"

As shame began to dissipate, he nodded more resolutely, a soft "please" escaping his lips, his tone laced with a hint of desperation.

You leaned in, your voice low and husky, "Please, what?" as you settled onto his thighs, pinning him in place to prevent him from squirming away. He paused, his eyes cast downward, his face growing hotter by the second as he struggled to find the courage to speak his desires. The words finally emerged, hesitantly forced out: "Please...can...can we do more?" His hand slowly going to cover his face, as if trying to conceal the vulnerability that had taken over.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently pulled his hand away, forcing his teary gaze to meet yours. "No coming tonight, Tamaki," you stated firmly, your nails digging lightly into his wrist.

His face contorted in confusion, a pitiful puff of air escaping his lips as he whispered, "W-what?" His eyes searched yours, seeking clarity.

You leaned in closer, your voice taking on a calm, deliberate tone. "Let's see if you're really a good boy," you said, your hand drifting over his chest as you watched his expressive face cycle through a gamut of emotions. "You're not getting to cum tonight, understand?"

Tamaki's whiny voice cracked as he asked, "L-like... not at all?" His words were laced with a mixture of disappointment and longing.

“Like not at all.” repeated, your voice dripping with a warm, sadistic sweetness. "But don't worry, if you behave, I'll give you a very nice reward," you purred, leaning down to gently lick his pink nipple.

Tamaki let out a strained moan, struggling to find his voice. "And what if I...do?" he asked, his breathy words tumbling out as he gazed up at you with a pout.

You paused, weighing your options with deliberate slowness. "Then," you said, your tone turning stern, "I'll have to punish you."

Tamaki's whine was almost inaudible as he protested, "Why are you being so mean to me?" He sank deeper into the pillows, his face hidden from view as he sought to escape his embarrassment.

“I thought you asked me to be meaner to you, was I wrong?” you teased, slowly pulling down his clinging boxers to finally release his rigid cock. Tamaki's gaze dropped to his stomach, and he looked at himself with a mixture of self-pity and resignation as he anticipated the marathon of edging you had in store for him tonight.

A small, involuntary whimper escaped his lips as he lifted his gaze to yours, his clumpy lashes fluttering as he gazed up at you with pleading eyes. You grasped the base of his cock, and began to pump your fist in a slow, deliberate motion. Tamaki's hips twitched in response, and he watched with a pout as you let a droplet of saliva slide down the length of his shaft, making him squirm.

"Stay still for me, baby," you coaxed, your wrist moving in a slow, sensual arc as you reached the tenderest part of his cock. His hand clamped down on your wrist, his head thrown back in a moan of pleasure as you stroked his most sensitive spot.

"I-I...," he gasped, his words trailing off between ragged breaths, "I can't...I'm close."

Your pace slowed imperceptibly, and a soft coo of sympathy escaped your lips. "Ah, already? I see my words got you excited," you said, batting your lashes with a wicked smile. "Do you want to be punished?"

Tamaki's whine was like a protest, his hand reaching behind him to grasp the sheets as if seeking support. "N-no," he argued, his hips subtly buckling into your hand as if trying to pull away from the impending orgasm.

You let out a soft sigh, your hand trailing off to caress his sacs. Tamaki's tension eased, and he reached out with a hand, his fingers closing around yours in a gentle grasp. "Hold?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across your face as you gazed at his blushing cheeks. "Oh, you want to hold my hand? How sweet," you teased, your tone dripping with amusement.

Tamaki's arm shot up to cover his face once more, but it didn't stay there for long. His hand quickly reasserted itself, gripping the sheets as if seeking grounding as you began to stroke him again. Beads of pre-cum formed on his length, trickling down his shaft like tiny rivers as you focused your movements on the pink, puffy tip.

As you continued to tease him, you posed the question aloud, more for the pleasure of watching him squirm than any genuine interest in his opinion. "What do you think would be a fitting punishment?" you mused, your grip on his base tightening as you felt his cock throb with desire at the very thought of it. "Should I deny you touch for a week?" You suggested, your voice low and husky, the words sending shivers down Tamaki's spine.

"No," Tamaki protested, his head shaking rapidly from side to side.

You pouted, your smile twisting into a wicked grin. "Oh, come now, don't be shy. A little spank might do you some good," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You might just turn bright red."

Tamaki's embarrassment began to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of urgency as he felt his orgasm building. He was desperate to come, and the thought of being spanked only added to his arousal. His resolve crumbled, and he let out a strained "I'm getting close" as his hips bucked upward in search of relief.

As you withdrew your hand from his cock, Tamaki let out a soft moan, his body surrendering to the pleasure that had been building inside him. His face flushed with shame and excitement, he lay there, helpless and exposed, as the orgasm disappeared.

If you repeat this with him enough, you might just break him. The poor boys brain would dissolve into mush faster than you make think. His skin would be flushed, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, and tears streaming down his face. His thighs trembling with each touch, as if the physical sensation was too much to bear. The pain would be almost unbearable, yet his body would crave release more than anything.

If you spoke words of encouragement, all he would manage would be a numb nod, his mind consumed by the desperate desire to come. From that point on, there were only two paths open to him: succumb to the inevitable and let go, risking failure and the agony of delay; or grit his teeth and push through the pain, earning your praise and attention.

I believe he would be more likely to listen to you, no matter how bad it hurt. Solely because he enjoys being pampered more than anything. Any sort of torture is worth a cold shower with you. He would already be fantasizing about you scrubbing his back and telling him how proud you were of him, how he was yours, and only yours.

Oh, but I do think that if sperm retention became a habit, he might “accidentally” cum, just to see where it gets him.

[ghouldump]

(sending this again because i think tumblr deleted it!)

loustat x reader, and reader at the time is the only mortal in their relationship until reader privately asks louis to turn her (can be gn, i mainly read fem!reader stuff) into a vampire so she can commit herself to them eternally, louis says no in order of protecting her, they argue a bit before she agrees and a few days later lestat finds out and he does it for her and louis is not happy. even though he wanted her to stay innocent he still wanted to be her maker

and if u want u can take it from there :)

All I Ask Of You | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ when lestat takes matters into his own hands, leaving louis to sit in his regret of not complying with your wishes.

i will be booked and busy tomorrow, so the bulk of post will be up on saturday, i hope you can accept this for now, my lovelies 🤲🩷

“Please, Louis”

“I told you, my answer is no,” he raised his voice, turning away from you. How could you ask him for such a thing? He and Lestat promised to fulfill your every desire, but not this, not when you had so much to live for.

“Fine,” you had been trying for days now to get him to comply, but he wouldn't budge.

“Don’t be like that, it is for the-

“For the best, I know, I heard you the first time, listen, I can’t stay tonight, could you tell Les for me?” you asked, already headed towards the door before he could speak. You refused to cry in front of him, swinging open the door of the townhouse, just as Lestat was entering the gate.

“Ma ch-

“I’m in a rush, Louis will explain,” you pulled away from his reach, leaving him to stare bewildered at your figure becoming more distant. He wanted to question what happened while he was away, but as he began to open his mouth, something about the gloom in Louis’s eyes kept him from speaking.

“She has errands,” he mumbled, as Lestat nodded.

Silently, he followed behind Louis locking up the house as they prepared for sunrise. He wasn’t sure what he’d missed, but he was determined to find out, soon enough.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re alright darling?” Your mother asked as she leaned against the counter watching as you helped put away the leftovers from dinner.

“Yes, why?”

“You never come home, and now you’re here. Not only that, we’re going on day 3, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I can’t miss home?” you frowned.

“I didn’t say that, it’s just that it seemed like you were never leaving New Orleans, it’s been months and you’re only an hour away,” she explained. There wasn't a proper way to tell her, or your father, that you had fallen in love with two vampires, one being a few decades older, while the other — a few centuries.

“I’m sorry, I’ll visit more often,” you told her, watching as she smiled, going to pull you into a hug.

“Good, your father and I get so lonely”

“You should move to New Orleans, get out of Covington, and live a little,” you laughed.

“Absolutely not, this is home, I’ll take it from here, you go ahead and get ready for bed,” she waved you off.

“Goodnight,” you said, as she kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight sweet pea,” she called as you walked down the hall, going to your old bedroom.

Entering the room, you inhaled the vanilla aroma, as your mind drifted to your lovers. Only three days and you already felt sick to your stomach. You wondered if they missed you as much as you missed them. You told your roommate to simply tell them you were out of town if they showed up at your apartment, but you weren't sure how much longer you could continue with this.

Going to the connected bathroom, you filled the bathtub with warm water. Staring into the water, your mind drowned with regret. You had been so inconsiderate to Louis, expecting him to take on such a big responsibility. 

“Louis,” you moaned breathlessly, as he kissed along your collarbone.

“I want you to turn me,” you said, the oxygen seemingly getting caught in your throat, as he stopped, before pulling away from you.

“Where is this coming from?” he asked, his voice comforting, as he sat up, trying to concentrate on your thoughts.

“I love you both and I want to give myself to you and Lestat, forever, from this point on,” you vowed to him.

“Y/n, you don't know what you're saying, you are amazing, everything is perfect the way it is-

“Until I begin to age, and become decrepit, please Louis, become my maker, as Lestat is yours”

“You don't realize how precious life is until it is no longer in your reach. I can't do this to you, I can't take away your life when you have so much purpose,” he told you, wiping your tears as you began to cry.

Turning off the faucet, you huffed, roughly wiping the tears from your eyes. The fact that you were crying over him telling you no made you feel adolescent compared to the two. Tossing your clothing into the hamper, your muscles tensed before relaxing, as you submerged into the warm water. 

Laying back, you closed your eyes, relishing in the therapeutic sensation. Humming in relief, you focused on clearing your mind. You would only stay here a few more days before you headed home. You had built a life in New Orleans and you wouldn't leave it behind, and you certainly had no intentions of closing this chapter of your life with Louis or Lestat, over this situation.

Feeling a cool breeze across the water, you crossed your legs, shifting to feel the warmth, with your eyes still shut. Only a few minutes passed before the chilling fingertips brushed against your skin, causing you to open your eyes, sitting up. Looking around, you didn't see a person as you sighed, laying back again, closing your eyes.

“How we’ve missed you,” Lestat spoke, making you jump, but quickly relaxed as he reassuringly massaged your shoulders.

Standing behind you, he crouched down, kissing along your neck, licking away the water droplets, while you held back your moan.

“Louis isn't here,” he answered your thoughts before you could ask.

“He says you're upset with him, but won't say why,” he said, his large hands rubbing down your abdomen into the warm water.

“No, he should be upset with me,” you sat up, abruptly, facing him.

“Do tell why?” he smirked. 

“I asked him to turn me…into a vampire,” you said, your face burning in shame.

“And he said no-

“He is only trying to protect me, I didn't understand but I do now,” you said, unable to meet his eyes.

“But that isn't what you want, chèrie, is it?” he asked, as the waterworks began to pour. Shaking your head, as you finally met his eyes.

“I want an eternity with the two of you, the thought of me getting old and you both becoming a distant memory, if I even remember, it scares me, could I even live a normal life ever again, after sharing my heart with the two of you,” you said, as he stood up straight, reaching for the soft towel. Using his free hand, he helped you stand, wrapping the towel around your frame, before leading you out of the bathroom.

“You wanted Louis to change you, to allow him to experience what I have given him, but this is just as sentimental. Giving the gift to two extraordinary souls who I love greatly, would you like that, chèrie?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Yes, please,” you admitted embarrassingly.

“Do you vow to only love Louis and I, for an eternity? Forever is a very long time, go ahead, answer in the presence of God,” he motioned to the crucifix hanging on your wall.

“I do,” you nodded earnestly.

“Then you will be my fledgling, with my blood running through your veins,” he said, swiftly pulling you into his arms, before his fangs were out, plunging into your soft skin. You could feel your body weakening as he drained your blood, before he finally pulled away. Biting into his wrist, he soon placed it against your mouth.

“Drink,” he instructed, his eyes full of endearment as you moaned at the taste of his blood. You had licked your own wound as a child and the taste of iron was nothing worth comparing to his blood, you almost couldn’t stop, until he pulled his arm away.

“Thank you Les,” you said tiredly, as he grinned, kissing your neck, before sitting your limp body on the bed. Walking away, he became to boredly pack your things. He knew his intuition was correct, you had been wanting this for a while now and he had a feeling it started nearly three months back, when you asked if you could join them, as they hunted.

Watching you closely, as you sat up, hurling onto the floor, you clutched your stomach in agony. Groaning, you began to vomit on the floor, chills all over your body. Lestat neatly placed everything in your suitcase, going to zip it. Noticing your quietness, his smirk widened, as you now stood unfazed, the towel covering the vomit, as you stood nude with poise. Your new eyes and nails catching his attention, you certainly were a beautiful vampire.

“You look like perfection,” he approached you.

“I feel like…perfection”

“Let us find your first hunt, as you know with Louis’s situation, staying here won’t be possible, with your new life,” he said, as you nodded, going to grab clothing from the luggage, while looking for a pen and paper — leaving your mom a random excuse for why you had to leave.

“Do you think Louis will be mad at us?”

“Very”

“You have to suck not bite,” Lestat said, holding down your victim, as you straddled the guys lap, your fangs deep in his neck. You had made it back to New Orleans and the first thing Lestat took you to do was find your first meal. You were a natural, as you intentionally looked through the selection of people. When finally, you chose some creep, he was a bad man and you felt you were doing a bit of justice, ridding the world of such garbage.

Suddenly the front door opened, there was a few footsteps before he spoke, “What the fuck is going on?” Louis asked confusedly. Pulling away from the man, he tried screaming, begging for help, when Lestat snapped his neck.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” He asked you, as you bashfully nodded.

“Y/n,” Louis called out. Slowly facing him, you smiled, blood dripping down your mouth.

“Hi Louis”

“You turned her, now why the hell would you do that?” He yelled at Lestat.

“She wanted this, would you have preferred she stumbled across another vampire-

“I would have preferred you left her as she was,” Louis argued.

“I wanted this Louis, he was only helping-

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n, you weren’t ready, and you took advantage of her ignorance,” he screamed as Lestat sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Louis, I wanted this for more than anything, to be alongside you both, an eternity together-

“Don’t you think I know what you want, I’ve heard your thoughts, it doesn’t change the fact that it was not smart. You just threw away everything, your family, your friends, life, you’re dead now, and there is no going back,” he said, as you hesitantly climbed from the limp body. His tone brought an uneasiness to your heart, your eyes stinging.

“All I wanted, all I thought I wanted, was to be with you and Lestat. I can’t see myself with anyone else, but I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with Lestat,” you said, the dark blood leaking from your eyes. Lestat reached for you, but you moved, walking out to the backyard.

“Are you seriously that angry, Louis, how long did you expect her to wait?” Lestat asked.

“Why did you do it? She didn’t have to be turned into this,” Louis shook his head, glancing in the direction of the backyard. Regretting how harsh he sounded, as he spoke to you.

“Louis, you can still protect her as a vampire, I know you only wanted to look out for her, but she wanted the gift, she chose to love us over her parents and friends, she was worthy,” Lestat said.

“I was too harsh to her,” Louis mumbled.

“Then you should be apologizing to her, and thanking me for making yet another beautiful fledgling,” Lestat smirked.

“She is beautiful, you did good,” Louis nodded.

“Again?”

“Again,” he laughed, sighing as Lestat approached him, pulling him into a hug, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Go now”

Louis hesitantly walked outside, stopping in his tracks, seeing you sit in the grass. Looking up at the bright moon. Clenching his jaw, he forced his legs to move, before he sat next to you, watching your side profile.

“The moon looks nice tonight,” he spoke up.

“It does, doesn’t it. She glows so beautifully, the sun has no choice but to hide from her presence,” you said, your face unmoving from the sky.

“I apologize for how I spoke to you, I want you forever, both of us do. I’m more angry with Lestat than you”

“Don’t be upset with Les, please, he knew I wanted this, and I think it was only a matter of time, before I was begging him next,” you explained.

“I think I’m more angry about the fact that he changed you, and not me,” he said, grinning as you finally looked at him.

“I thought I was protecting you, keeping you from our world, when you fit so perfectly in it — I wish I would have gone through with it,” he admitted.

“It is okay, really, as long as I’m with you both, I am happy,” you said, reaching for his hands.

“Is there anything I can do, to make up for this…”

“Love me, your love is all I ask of you,” you said, accepting his kiss.

“I feel quite excluded, where are my kisses?” Lestat spoke, as he stepped outside.

“If you come any closer, you may end up with more than a kiss, both of you, I feel like the happiest girl alive,” you said, as he moved to the grass, kissing along your neck.

“Then we are starting our eternity together on the right track”