#I don’t think he was trying to be judgmental or anything he was just confused

[waugh-bao]

*

[cheesiedomino]

RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[distantdarlings]

ANY FEELINGS // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Gender-Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* As Theo plucks up the courage to ask you out on a date, you soothe your repressed feelings for the boy by filling your nights with other men.

+ WARNINGS - Mentions of smut! (But no actual). Sexual descriptions, language, gender-neutral reader, conflict between Cormac and Theo, very brief description of a fight (non-graphic), kissing, kissing w/o consent, not proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Consume - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Dude, you're gonna have to grow some balls at some point…”

“Shut the fuck up, man!” 

Theo laid a slap to the back of one of his best mate’s heads. Enzo was a great friend, but he tended to be a bit too judgmental when it came to you. 

Theo had had some sort of feelings for you since he first met you, but whether they were platonic or romantic or…something else, he wasn’t sure. 

Enzo seemed to be completely confident that Theo’s feelings for you—whatever they may be categorized as—could be chalked up to one thing only: love. 

Every time Theo heard Enzo pleading with him to just ask you out or grab your hand while he was walking next to you, he lost more patience. The boy sitting next to him was stupid, but sometimes he wondered if he should even be permitted to attend Hogwarts. 

“I don’t know, man,” Mattheo piped up. “Maybe Enzo’s right…you seem pretty into them every time we all hang out.” The dark boy diagonal from Theo shrugged his shoulders. 

“How would either of you know how I’m feeling?” Theo asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you fucking gawk at them everytime they’re around—I mean, you’re practically fucking drooling,” Enzo said, pursing his lips.

“Whatever, I am not.” 

“‘Not,’” Enzo mouthed to Mattheo, making air quotes with his fingers. 

Theo clenched his jaw and shoved the boy over, before getting to his feet.

The three of them had been sitting next to the Black Lake during dinner, hoping to get away from some of the noisy chatter in the Great Hall. 

“Look, just try it out,” Mattheo suggested, squinting against the sun. “Think about it tonight—”

“When you’re alone in bed and about to rub one out!” Enzo cut Mattheo off. Theo glared down at him in disgust. Just before he could react to what the boy had said, Mattheo smacked Enzo on the back of the head.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Mattheo started back. “I meant to mull it over as you’re about to fall asleep tonight. That’s generally when I can get the most thinking done. It’s quiet and nonjudgmental.” 

He glared over at Enzo.

“Alright, then,” Theo sighed, pressing a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “I guess I will.”

Once the three of them had separated and gone their own ways, Theo decided to make a change to his evening plans.

He had originally planned on following Mattheo down to the Three Broomsticks for a mug of Butterbeer, but—upon the dark-haired boy’s suggestion of staying in—he decided to head back into the castle.

He’d have a bit of a shower then take an early night so he could think about what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do about you. 

It wasn’t just the constant pressure from Enzo to ask you out that had you circling around his thoughts. He didn’t need the badgering from his friends to think about you. 

Theo thought of you all the time anyway, with little being prioritized over you. The confusing nature of the feelings came from the fact that his thoughts of you were so often varied. 

One minute, he’d be thinking of your laugh—the way you tilted your head back, eyes clenched, with mouth wide, smile glistening. Next, he’d be imagining you naked above him, begging for him to give you more.

It’d been this way forever. He wanted you in more ways than one, but just one of those ways would ruin every other. 

If Theo admitted that he wanted to be the last face you saw every night and the first you saw every morning, and you rejected him, he’d never heal from it. He needed you too much in any way to let something get in the way of that. 

So he’d held back for years and years, until, apparently, he’d started to become a little too obvious. At least, enough so that Mattheo and Enzo had noticed. 

Now, with the support—and borderline bullying—from them, he was feeling confident. Like he could actually ask you to be his.

Still, he hesitated.

He made his way through the castle, counting the sconces on the wall and running through example admissions he could give you. If he were to tell you how he felt, he couldn’t fuck it up. 

You deserved the best of him, if you even deserved him at all. Theo wasn’t much compared to you, but everything he felt for you was genuine and that wasn’t something that was so easy to explain to Mattheo and Enzo, assholes as they were.

He stopped before the entrance to the Slytherin common room, mumbled the password, and made his way through, hardly straying from his imaginary conversations.

Distractedly, he headed upstairs and prepared himself a shower. 

Mattheo said he thought the best while laying in bed, but Theo wondered if the shower might be a better alternative for him. He worried that he might not ever get to sleep if he let all of his thoughts pool into one part of his day. 

So, he shed his clothes, pulled the water as hot as it would go and stepped beneath the boiling rain. 

Between the steam and the warmth, he could’ve fallen asleep, but the thoughts of telling you how he felt kept him wired enough to focus. 

There were a thousand possibilities swirling through his head, trying to guide him in the right direction. 

He weighed a couple options back and forth, trying to let imagined scenarios play out with each, but no matter what he said or did, it always ended with him embarrassing himself, you hating him, or him accidentally setting something on fire. Never mind that last option—there was a brief consideration of fireworks. 

He let the water run across his shoulders and slip down his chest. He applied a bit of hair oils to his hands, letting the personal concoction he’d whipped up settle in his palm. He’d always had pretty dry hair but it tended to get a bit oily during this time of year, leading him to switch over to a different product—or, rather, a combination of products.

He lathered the oils in his hair and closed his eyes.

The massage his fingers applied to his head was just relaxing enough to keep his mind occupied for a second. He didn’t stop thinking of you—he never did—but he was allowed a few moments’ peace. He accepted the nurturing sensation, attempting to ignore his imagination trying to replace his hands with yours.

Then, suddenly, he got it! He knew exactly how to tell you how he felt. 

He quickly rinsed all of the remaining bubbles from his hair and scrubbed the rest of his body, before shutting the water off and whispering a small spell. In an instant, the wetness coating his body evaporated into thin air, and he was bone-dry. 

He slipped his pajamas on, gathered his day clothes, and made his way back to the dorm. 

If he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure he did it properly. He had about a thousand ideas, a notebook, quill, and ten hours to kill. Needless to say, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

- - -

You set yourself down at the end of the Slytherin table and poured a bit of coffee into your mug.  

With the night you had just before, you could use a bit of caffeine. Nothing you had expected to happen yesterday did, and everything you hadn’t expected to happen had. In ten fold. 

Between the three tests, the spilled pumpkin juice all over your bottoms, the near-fight between your best friend, Draco, and some Gryffindor, you had had enough by the end of all of it. 

You had wanted to sleep after all of the activity. But, instead, you had Cormac McLaggen. 

And you had gotten all of him. From his chestnut curls to his strong arms to his hips moving against yours. Thank Merlin he was a Quidditch player with immense stamina, else the two of you never would have lasted past the third or fourth rounds. 

A smirk appeared across your face at the thought of him and everything he had given you last night. Even with how insufferable he was as soon as he decided to talk, his mouth seemed proficient in other things. 

You sipped your coffee as students began to file in, lazily scuffing their feet across the floor, urgent to get a muffin. 

Despite your urge to busy your mind with schoolwork and your plans for the day, it kept falling back to that stupid Gryffindor boy.

His fingers weren’t the most skilled, nor was the rest of his body, but he followed instructions like he was born to do so. 

But even though he had done so well for you last night, and even though he’d seemed so eager to please, your mind couldn’t help but stray when you were with him last night. It couldn’t help but stray even now. Stray to a different boy.

Theodore Nott. The most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid your eyes on. Draco had introduced you to him during your first year; he’d said their fathers knew each other. Needless to say, you’d knew you wanted to be with him from the moment you saw him.

Even when you had no others, Theodore Nott was your goal. 

Seconds into thinking about Theo, and you were already thinking about his body, and replacing Cormac’s touch with his. Just like you had last night.

Perhaps it was unfair to Cormac, but you both knew you hadn’t hooked up for ‘love’—more like mutual attraction and convenience. 

You were thinking about the way Cormac had gasped above you and the way his mouth had felt on you, then suddenly it was Theo’s mouth where his had been, and Theo’s hands holding yours to the bed. 

It was enough to make you readjust in your seat just a bit. Even your fantasies of Theo made you red in the face. How pathetic. 

But, Merlin, if it wasn’t so nice to picture…his hands running down—

“Mind if I sit here?”

You glanced up suddenly, using every bit of will power in your body not to choke and spew coffee everywhere. 

If it wasn’t Theodore fucking Nott standing right before your eyes, you might have mistook him for an angel. Your eyes widened instinctually.

“E-er, yeah, Theo…take a seat,” you said with a forced smile. 

You watched him like a hawk as he seemed to effortlessly slide against the table, taking his seat before the hundreds of breakfast items lined along the oaken surface. 

If you didn’t know any better, you figured that he knew you were staring at him over your coffee mug, but he was ignoring it. He seemed to be considering his meal options, rather than focusing on you.

“So, how are you?” you asked, swallowing thickly. He glanced up as if he’d forgotten you were there. 

“Oh, good…yeah, pretty good. How are you?” 

You felt crazy. There was no way he’d just shown up like this while you’d been imagining him in the dirtiest scenarios—it couldn’t just be a coincidence. Maybe he was a Legilimens. Or one of his friends was. Shit, wasn’t Mattheo Riddle one? 

You smiled nervously. “Uh, yeah, I’m good.” 

“Good.” He selected a mug and poured some tea.

“Yeah…” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you about—” 

A kiss was pressed to the outer point of your jawline. Slightly rough, cracked lips with a hint of stubble across the chin. Warm breath. The scent of leather polish and something earthy. Shit.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said against your ear, sending chills down your arms. Perhaps you had been wrong. Perhaps Cormac had been interested in more of a relationship with you, past the purely physical aspect. 

You swore Theo’s eyes widened and his face fell. He seemed almost shocked or disappointed. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Hey,” you whispered back, a bit of a smile spreading across your lips at the familiar smell. Despite your lack of real feelings for him, Cormac did make you pretty happy, at least on a surface level. 

“I’m gonna grab something to eat then head back to bed if you want to join me…,” he let his voice trail off in a joking tone as he slipped away. He headed towards the Gryffindor table, never looking back. You watched him as he walked for a few moments then turned back to Theo.

“So, McLaggen, huh?” he asked. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes were surveying your face. He seemed to be searching for something.

“Oh, we—er, I mean, not really,” you chuckled.

“What does that mean?” He didn’t laugh in return.

“We kind of just—”

“Whatever…it’s none of my business.” He cut you off. He took one large sip from his mug, draining its contents before turning to go. You hopped to your feet.

“Theo, I—” you started to call after him, but he was already gone. Fuck, was he mad?

You sat back down and wrapped your fingers back around your cup. Something in you deflated like it had been poked with a needle—maybe it was your heart…or your stomach. You weren’t sure.

Cormac fluttered about the Gryffindor table, talking here and there, and grabbing bits of food. Your eyes followed him, watching his every movement. 

You could see the muscles rippling beneath his pajama tee shirt—a gray cotton number that fit him in all the right places; could see the honey curls that curled over his eyes; could see the way his eyes flicked over to you every so often. Damn, the way he looked at you was so good…

But Theo was something else entirely. If Cormac was fire, Theo was electricity. 

Theo replaced everything—Cormac’s eyes, lips, fingers. It was as if every memory was being replaced by him and there was nothing you could do to control it. 

Then, before you could blink, and realize what was happening, Theo was walking back through the door. And also making a bee line for Cormac. Shit. 

You stood slowly, waiting to see if you should intervene—or to see if you were just imagining the whole Theo-interested-in-you situation. 

A few moments passed where Theo said one thing, Cormac said another, Theo pointed at you, Cormac said another thing and then laughed. Whatever he said earned a few chuckles from his friends sitting around him. 

There was a beat. 

Then Theo punched Cormac as hard as he could. 

You gasped and rose to run toward the group that had now begun to swarm around Theo. It seemed that whoever had been laughing with Cormac obviously supported him enough to try and attack Theo, because once you’d gotten over there, they’d already laid a couple punches to Theo. 

Never mind he was up against three other guys, he was holding his own. Every time they successfully landed a punch, Theo would fire back with one of his own. And he’d fire back hard. 

“Stop!” you shouted, attempting to force yourself between them. Without looking, Theo spared an arm for a moment long enough that he could keep you pushed back behind him. 

“No, Theo! Cormac! That’s enough!” You struggled against Theo. 

Finally, you’d wrestled enough that you slipped free from Theo’s guard and slipped past them. You pushed him back as hard as you could, and turned to face the other boys as quickly as you could so they wouldn’t force themselves past you. 

“All of you stop it right now!” You shouted, panting heavily from the effort it took to push Theo away. “You come with me.”

You pulled Theo behind you by his hand and exited through the looming doors of the Great Hall, leaving Cormac and his goons in shock. In their defense, a lot had happened in about five minutes.

Once through the doors, you Disapparated quickly, never letting go of Theo’s hand. You landed in your dormitory. 

A quick survey of the room and a mumbled locking spell later, the two of you were alone and Theo was bleeding. 

You conjured a bit of gauze and ointment from somewhere in the hospital wing, promising you’d return it later.

Sitting Theo down gently on the edge of your bed, you began to gently apply a bit of the soaked gauze to the cut on his cheek and the blood seeping from his nose. He hissed ever so slightly at the stinging, but kept his eyes on you.

“Why did you hit him?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. His eyes moved away from you.

A few moments of silence passed. The minute you thought he might never say something, he spoke up.

“McLaggen’s not a good guy.”

You scoffed. “Really? That’s all you have to say? You hit Cormac because he’s ‘not a good guy?’ There’s billions of people who aren’t good people that I don’t go around decking every time I see them! Why did you really hit him, Theo?”

You stared him down, demanding an answer with every glance he cast your way. 

“Because of what he said about you.” 

You were taken aback. “W-what did he say?”

***

Theo walked out of the Great Hall, trying his best to swallow the rage that was building up in his throat. Of course you were with someone. You were absolutely perfect. It was false hope for him to have thought he’d ever had a chance with you. He threw his plans from his mind. 

As he stormed through the stone halls, flashes of the way McLaggen had come up right behind you and touched you like he owned you, pissed him off so badly he was shaking. 

The way his lips had touched your cheek, the way you’d smiled so softly, the way you’d looked at him afterwards. It was clear you pitied him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. It wasn’t your fault. If you wanted McLaggen, that was fine. He just needed…he just needed to make sure you were being treated right. 

On a whim, he turned back around before he could stop himself, and marched back into the Great Hall. 

If Theo couldn’t have you, he at least needed to ensure that whoever did have you was treating you right. You deserved it more than anyone did.

He spotted McLaggen leaned around a couple other guys, chattering and laughing. Honestly, just the sight of the jock pissed him off. 

“Hey! McLaggen!” The dirty blonde boy glanced up, eyebrows quickly shifting from shocked to on his guard. 

“Nott.” He nodded his head toward Theo. The boys gathered around him seemed to look up to, always prepared for some kind of conflict.

If they hadn’t known any better, Theo would have guessed they assumed this was a Quidditch issue. But it wasn’t. 

“Can I talk to you alone?” Theo asked.

“What for? If this is about the Quidditch pitch this weekend, McGonagall already said—” McLaggen started.

“It’s not about that,” Theo interrupted him. He was right, Cormac did think this was a Quidditch issue. Why else would Theo want to interact with him?

“Oh, wait…this is about them, isn’t it?” McLaggen laughed, nodding his head in your direction. Theo’s jaw twitched at the thought of him talking about you.

“I just wanted to say that they’re really important to me, and I want you to take care of them.”

“What—are you their dad?” McLaggen snorted.

“No, man. But they’re a very close friend of mine and I want to ensure that you’re going to be good to them.” Theo pointed in your direction without thinking about it. 

“Who are we talking about again?” Theo’s jaw clenched at his response.

“Man, come on. I’m not asking for a lot. I care about my friend.”

“Are you sure they’re just your friend? I could’ve sworn they screamed your name last night.” 

The blood drained from Theo’s face as he heard McLaggen’s words. He was stunned for a moment.

“What did you say?” Theo muttered, barely able to form words.

“I said, ‘when I was fucking them last night, I think they said your name.’ It didn’t really matter anyways, because they were just a distraction for me. They’re not the prettiest thing, but good enough when they’re on their knees—”

Theo couldn’t handle it anymore. Without a second thought or a blink, Theo swung his fist at Cormac’s jaw as hard as he could. He didn’t know who this fucker thought he was, but he wasn’t going to talk about you like that. 

Somewhere distantly, he thought he heard you shout his name, but he’d started something he couldn’t just walk away from. 

***

“That’s what he said about you… I couldn’t just let him get away with that. Someone had to show him some consequences.” 

From the beginning, you had insisted that whatever was happening between you and Cormac was purely situational, but somehow his words still hurt. 

You were flashing between angry and sad and hurt and mortified—you didn’t know what to feel. Had you really screamed Theo’s name last night? The fact that you genuinely couldn’t say whether you did or not, made you scared. 

What did Theo think? Was he disgusted?

“Theo, I think the asshole was just trying to ramp you up,” you chuckled nervously. “I didn’t…s-scream your name last night.” The last words were little more than a whisper. You averted your eyes, finding the stone floor quite interesting all of a sudden. You couldn’t believe you were having to say that.

“Can I ask you one thing?” Theo breathed. He seemed much closer to you now, then he had been before. His breaths mingled with yours slowly…melodically…

Your eyes flickered between him and the floor, only viewing him through split seconds where his darkened skin flashed against the sunlight outside. Fuck, he was beautiful. 

How many times had you imagined tracing that olive skin? 

“Er, yes, of course,” you said distantly. “You can ask me anything, Theo.”

“Have…you ever…” 

His words came out thickened and slow, as if they were honey dripping from his lips. They poured wetly through his teeth, hot and searing. You could feel them cover your body, pouring delicately over your skin and covering your mind. The syllables that left his lips had your head spinning. You felt as if you might be sick.

“...had any feelings…”

His lips shuddered slightly between words, his eyes were looking directly into yours, the contact never wavering. You had plucked up the courage to stare up into those oceanic features, but just enough to get the gist of what he was asking. You couldn’t bear to look at him as you debated your answer.

“...for me…?”

Fuck.

Your eyelids fluttered closed. A deep sigh pushed from your nostrils as your lips pinched together. If you had known that sleeping with Cormac McClaggen would somehow set into motion the timeline that would out your long-lived crush on Theodore Nott, you’d never have said yes to the bastard. Besides, it wasn’t as if you weren’t thinking of Theo the whole time—so much so that you apparently had “screamed his name.” Merlin, this was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you. 

“Theo, uh… I don’t know if this is a good—” you started.

“Please,” he shuddered, his gentle hands pressing softly to either cheek. He tilted your head upwards to force more eye contact. The physical touch had you reeling. You had never been so close to him before, except for in your mind. “If you have, I need to know. I will not force anything from you, but I need to know.”

Your eyes flickered back and forth nervously as you summoned any strength that was left floating around in your fleeting esteem. You wanted so badly to tell him. Tell him about all those dinners you’d left early because your mind was so clouded with thoughts of him, about all of the classes you’d been called on to answer a question you weren’t even aware was being asked because you were too busy sketching him in your books, about all of the nights your fingers had slipped beneath your silk covers to pleasure yourself from a mere thought of him. 

A glimpse of him in your mind’s eye had been more than enough for years and years, but now—with your head cradled beneath his strong hands—you feared it’d never be enough again.

“Yes,” you choked out. The word came out small and harmless, as if you’d been holding your breath for too long before letting it out. 

And before you were able to wrench your face from his grasp, he’d leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

A muffled yelp of surprise slipped out between the two of you, but he swallowed the noise with a deep sigh. Despite never imagining this was how your confession of love would go, you couldn’t help but appreciate that it was happening now. 

Everything in you urged you to pull away and demand he leave for assuming you wanted to be kissed. But the child harboring a deep love for the boy they’d spotted on the train all those years ago pushed you to curl your fingers into the soft, brown strands atop his head.

A slight moan, almost in that of relief, was pressed into your mouth. His hands released your face and wrapped around your waist, clutching tightly to your waistband. He pulled you closer to him, his chest bumping yours. 

He wanted you, he wanted you, he wanted you, and he’d fucking gotten you. He reminded himself to punch Enzo and Mattheo in the gut when he got away from you. That was, if he ever pulled away from you. The feel of your lips on his was something out of a dream—one that his wildly imaginative mind could not have even mustered up. 

And finally, after years of debating, a shitty one-night stand, and thousands of shower pep-talks, Theo had finally worked up the nerve to taste your lips. And you had finally worked up the nerve to swallow your pride and confess your love to Theo, rather than projecting it through other vectors. 

And though the two of you would eventually pull apart, giggle quietly to one another, and announce your newfound infatuation for each other to all of your friends the following day, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was quite right. Everything had fallen into place except for one thing. 

Theo, as you would soon come to learn, always knew when something was wrong—oftentimes even when you didn’t realize it yourself. He would come to prove this many times over the following years of your relationship, but none better than when he had managed to learn a spell just for you. 

A spell that completely evaporated all of Cormac McClaggen’s clothes from his dormitory—and his body—whilst in the middle of Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

“That’ll show the fucker,” Theo had whispered into your ear amongst the loud bickering and laughing. 

- - -

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[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : anonymous friends to lovers type beat ; physical fighting ; reader is bullied ; angst ; fluffy ending ; Word Count : 8.9k A/N : Haven't even started writing this one yet but I know it's gonna take a bit, I hope the wait is worth it!! I hope that this is good! I kind of changed things a little bit, but I feel like it's still good... right? It has a k-drama feel to it... Not proof read!! Request : Anonny : Hello! If your requests are open can you write something for skz han? Where han is a popular person that everyone likes and he doesn't know the identity of reader but they are able to have really nice conversations. He thinks he found the person he's been talking to and starts dating them and reader agrees to help the person with talking to him. But han actually starts talking to reader and realizes that they were the person he fell in love with. Reader didn't tell him their true identity bc they were told he could never love someone like them. I hope that makes sense.

An anonymous chat room… What could possibly go wrong? It had started as a way for other students to get help with certain subjects without the judgment of their peers over not knowing enough. Soon enough, like most things, it had completely lost its original reason for being made, and now it was being used for anything but studying. There were chat rooms for dissing people, chat rooms for hooking up, and then there was the more… safe chat rooms, for people that were just lonely and wanting to talk, people that were too awkward or shy to have conversations face to face. Everyone had an online identity that no one else knew about… A different persona… It was scary… But sometimes it was nice to just… Talk to someone. 

JiHizzy : Hey! You online? 

Your phone vibrated with the message, and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sound of the notification. You had been talking to him for weeks now, and it was the one part of your day that you truly looked forward to. 

JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! What’s up?

JiHizzy : Finally got back to my dorm. I was trying to study for finals…

JustAnotherGirl : I’m gonna guess that didn’t work out for you? 

JiHizzy : Crazily enough, I ended up at the bar instead of the library. 

JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know how you could possibly get the two confused lol

JiHizzy : It’s a friday night, I don’t think anyone was at the library. Weren’t you at the bar too? It was packed. 

JustAnotherGirl : Mm… Nope! I don’t really party like that, I was too busy studying for my finals. 

JiHizzy : Ooh, the innocent type? I like that.

JustAnotherGirl : Are you flirting with me? 

JiHizzy : I might be… You know the acronym of your username is jag… all you need is I and you’d be jagi to me. 

JustAnotherGirl : That must be the alcohol talking…

JiHizzy : Not at all. You’re just my type. I really want to meet you.

JustAnotherGirl : Oh, would you look at the time? We should get some sleep! Goodnight! 

While it was supposed to stay an anonymous chat room, some people were just too popular to stay hidden longer than the first week. One of those people was JiHizzy, better known as Han Jisung, the most popular guy on campus simply because of his looks. All of the girls wanted him, and all of the guys wanted to be him. He was the top of the totem pole, and that put you at the very bottom. 

If the two of you were to walk past each other on campus, he wouldn’t even spare you a passing glance… But with the promise of anonymity, you were able to talk to him every night. You were able to know what it felt like to be liked by someone like him. You could never meet him though, if he found out who you really were… He’d stop talking to you immediately. You didn’t want to lose him… Even if you didn’t truly have him. 

///

JiHizzy : Are you in class right now? 

In the silence of the classroom, the vibration of your phone was much louder than you thought it would be. Everyone turned to look in your direction, and you quickly grabbed your phone and placed it on your lap, hoping that if another message came in, it would be silent. 

JiHizzy : I know you are, you’re such a good girl… WAIT DOES THAT SOUND WEIRD!? I’M SORRY!! 

JiHizzy : I was just thinking that maybe… Maybe you could tell me what class you’re in…

JiHizzy : And I could get a glimpse of you… Or who I think is you… I just want to have a face to go with the name…

You held in your sigh as you felt your phone vibrate incessantly against your lap, chewing on your bottom lip as you attempted to focus on your studies, but it seemed like he wouldn’t let up unless you responded. 

JiHizzy : PLEASE!! 

JustAnotherGirl : Why is it so important? I like being anonymous… I like talking to you…

JiHizzy : Because I like you, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and I want to daydream about you…

JiHizzy : But it’s kind of hard to daydream about someone if I don’t know what they look like.

JustAnotherGirl : Well, daydream about what you think I look like. It’s probably better than how I really look anyway. 

JiHizzy : You’re talking like I’ll stop messaging you or stop liking you if I meet you…

JiHizzy : You don’t think I’m that kind of person… Do you? 

JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know who you are… But it’s just easier like this for me… 

JiHizzy : Alright alright

JiHizzy : I’m sorry if I upset you…

JiHizzy : But hey! I heard that they’re releasing an update soon where we can actually talk to each other on the phone!

JustAnotherGirl : Can’t people tell who other people are by their voice? 

JiHizzy : Idk… But I want to call you when it comes out. Can we at least do that?

JustAnotherGirl : Maybe… I’ll think about it… I have to study now. So do you! 

JiHizzy : Right! Okay, I’ll message you later! 

He daydreamed about you… He thought about you… You wondered what this image looked like, the girl that he thought you were. You were sure that it looked nothing like you, and it was better that way. He was so popular, you didn’t want to tarnish his image if he was even seen talking with you, let alone walking beside you… although you were sure that something like that would never happen. 

///

When the call feature was released, everyone was so excited. People were testing it out as soon as their apps updated… But you were dreading it. Texting guaranteed staying anonymous, but hearing someone's voice, even if they didn’t know what you looked like, a voice was a way to identify someone. Even Jisungs voice, anyone and everyone could tell it was him coming if they heard him talking. His voice was distinct, it was his and his only. You didn’t know how distinct your voice would be, and the only thing you had going for you was the fact that you didn’t talk much at all. 

A time that you’d usually be counting down to now had your stomach twisted up into knots, your knees folded up against your chest as you tried to think of anything but the inevitable phone call that you knew he would ask for. “What’s got you all worked up?” Your roommate asked as she walked into your room. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she just had to be back in at a normal hour. 

Of course you had gotten paired up to dorm with the most popular girl on campus, it was just another way of lifes mysterious twists and turns supposedly. She was absolutely ruthless, and while you had asked to have your room changed at the beginning of every semester, it miraculously could never be done. As if college wasn’t hard enough, having to reside with her was just added stress. 

“Fine. Ignore me. I didn’t want to talk to you anyway.” She mumbled, dropping down onto the ridiculously large and disgustingly luxurious bed that took up almost the entirety of her half of the room. She was rich, of course she was, and she took every opportunity to flaunt her wealth to everyone on campus, and you were no exception, you just got the brunt of it. 

“I’m gonna take a shower real quick… Do you have to use the bathroom before I get in?” You asked, keeping your head down so she didn’t look at you like the peasant that you knew she thought you were. She scoffed loudly, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw her flick her wrist in the direction of the bathroom. 

JiHizzy : You awake? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping already! 

JiHizzy : You haven’t been online in 3 hours! Come onnnnn!

JiHizzy : Are you ignoring me?!?!?! :( 

JiHizzy : Did I do something… Say something wrong? 

JiHizzy : Ahhh… Maybe you are sleeping… Okay 

JiHizzy : Goodnight! Sleep well!!

You never took your phone into the bathroom with you, not just because it seemed unsanitary or unhygienic, you also couldn’t afford to potentially drop it on the tile floor and bust the screen. Maybe you should have, but again, you didn’t think that your roommate would go through your phone. You were pretty sure that she wouldn’t even touch something that belonged to you. You had never been more wrong. 

The vibrating of your phone had caught her attention, and maybe if it had only gone off once she would have ignored it, but Jisung was a spam texter. “Hmm…” She hummed to herself as she snatched your phone off the nightstand, and her curiosity quickly turned to annoyance when she saw just who had been texting you. “No way… There’s no way!” She shrieked, glaring at your phone. 

As the story goes, the popular guy should automatically be with the popular girl… that’s how it always goes! She wouldn’t allow something like this to happen… It just couldn’t. She was being a good person, she had to look out for Jisungs reputation, that’s what it was. Luckily everything was anonymous, you were anonymous… He wouldn’t have to be embarrassed to like you… He wouldn’t even have to know it was you. 

“What are you doing?” She was still holding your phone as you walked out of the bathroom, and your stomach dropped as you thought about what she could have been doing to your phone. Why would she even have it. “Look… I don’t touch your stuff, please don’t touch mine.” You mumbled as you scurried over to grab your phone out of her hand. 

“Jesus, don’t have a tantrum.” She muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to her own phone. “Maybe you should silence your notifications before leaving your phone unattended.” Her words only worried you more, prompting you to check what she could have been talking about, and you could feel the anxiousness creeping up further and further until it had taken you over completely. 

She had seen the notifications, and you’d be a fool to think that she didn’t know exactly who it was that was messaging you. Would she tell him? It would be absolutely humiliating, it would destroy you, you couldn’t imagine the way he and his friends would react to finding out that it was you who he had been talking to. Should you tell her not to say anything? “I…” No… It might make her say something. Maybe she’ll forget about it in the morning. That would be the best case scenario. 

“I think Han Jisung and I would be the perfect couple, right? I mean, we’re both popular, we’re both insanely attractive! That’s why I feel so bad for him, you know? It’s not like he’d willingly go for a complete loser, but this stupid anonymous app is really getting his hopes up.” You were right there, she knew exactly what she was doing, but she still had the audacity to look over at you with the fakest smile. “Were you saying something?” 

“N-No…” You stammered, pushing yourself up off your bed and heading to the door. “I’m gonna take a walk, I’ll be back later…” She didn’t say anything to you as you left, simply laughing along with the multitudes of friends that she had on call. Had she told them? Were they all laughing at you? Of course they were, she was right… Why would he want to be with someone like you? You were a nobody, a speck of dust, no… Not even that. People notice dust… you were less than that. 

But why didn’t you deserve to be happy, even if that meant staying behind the safety and security of your phone screen and a basic username? Were you not allowed to have anything? Not even some sort of happiness brought by anonymous interaction? Isn’t that how everything on the internet is nowadays anyway? No one really knows each other… So why is it such a big deal if you talk to him? Why should you be shamed for doing it the way you have been? Could you not even have this one thing? 

Being outside was like a breath of fresh air, at least for a moment, but those thoughts brought on by the words of your roommate were suffocating. Should you even respond to him? He thought you were sleeping already… you could tell him you had been busy… His messages have the ability to help you feel better in an instant, and you needed that now. You clicked on the notification and quickly typed in your password to open the app, and not even a second passed before your phone was vibrating in your hand. 

JiHizzy : Hey! There you are! 

JustAnotherGirl : Hm… Were you just sitting and waiting for me to come online?

JiHizzy : and what if I was?? 

JiHizzy : you know I can’t sleep without talking to you first. 

JustAnotherGirl : I didn’t know that though…

JiHizzy : well now you know! :D 

JiHizzy : so… the call feature came out! I want to call you! Can I?

JustAnotherGirl : uhm… I don’t know… 

JiHizzy : are you in your room? Is your roommate sleeping? I can talk quiet!

JustAnotherGirl : no… no it’s not that…

JiHizzy : I want to hear your voice… please? We can talk about anything! Anything you want! 

JustAnotherGirl : I guess… 

In a second your phone was buzzing, Jisungs screen name front and center on your screen. What a foolish feature this is, why not just give people your phone number if you’ll just talk on the phone? What’s next? Video calling? What if…? You would never do that… You couldn’t… He wouldn’t want to see you anyway. 

Your hands shook as you accepted the call and brought your phone up to your ear. “Hehe, hey! Took you a bit to answer, I thought you’d just ignore me!” His voice came with a face, one that you could perfectly envision in your mind. His smile, the creasing of his eyes as he probably laid back against his pillow, one arm tucked under his head, perfectly at ease with everything. He was so lucky and he probably didn’t even realize it. 

“Oh… uh… no. I was just… trying to find somewhere to sit.” You lied, looking around at the line of streetlamps that illuminated the sidewalks that led to different buildings. “H-Hi…” You stammered, and you knew exactly why you were flustered, why you were so nervous. Jisung was practically a GOD here, and you might as well have been an earthworm with how much lower you were than him. If anyone found out about this, you were sure that the both of you would be humiliated, but for vastly different reasons. 

“You don’t have a couch or a bed or anything in your dorm?” He asked, and you felt stupid, this whole thing just felt insanely stupid. So what if you didn’t have a couch or a bed in your dorm anyway, not everyone was made of money! What was he going to do, judge you for it? “Well… Look, if you need help or anything… I-” 

“I don’t need help.” You stated quickly, and you truly didn’t. Sure, you didn’t have a couch or a flat screen television in your dorm, but you had a bed, and that was more than what most people had, so you had no reason to complain. “I’m actually-” A particularly loud gust of wind whipped around you, the force so strong that you could almost hear it crackling in your speaker, and it whipped up freshly fallen leaves around you. 

“Are you outside?” There was a slight panic in his voice, although you weren’t sure why. It’s not like you hadn’t braved elements far more atrocious than wind before. But then again, he didn’t exactly know you well. With the image he had in his mind of you, he probably thought you were too pretty, too perfect to be outside in the wind, potentially getting your hair messed up. “Did you go outside just to talk to me? I-If I knew you were going to do that, I would have just said to wait until a different day to call. I don’t want you to get ill.” 

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Was he always this caring, or was he just pretending? Only the people closest to him would know, and you weren’t close to him at all. Surely to be as popular as he was, he’d have to be some kind of an asshole… That’s how the movies and the shows always depict the popular guys. They were too good for people like you… But… He didn’t know you were a person… A person like you. “It’s fine, really. I’ve walked home in thunderstorms before… A little gust of wind isn’t going to take me out.” 

There was a sigh from his end of the call, and then the rustling of what sounded like sheets or blankets. “Well tell me where you are. You’re already out, and I wouldn’t mind walking a bit to come see you. I really want to know you… I can get my shoes on real quick and-” You hung up the call before he was finished, your breath held in your throat, and you didn’t let it go until you were certain the call was ended. It was rude, sure, of course it was… But why was he so god damn pressed on meeting you!? Why wasn’t this good enough for him too?! 

JiHizzy : Did the call cut out? Was it the wind?? Are you okay!?

JiHizzy : If you don’t answer me, I’ll… I don’t know… I’m not a computer wizard but…

JiHizzy : I know people can trace things and… Please tell me you’re okay. I’m worried.

JustAnotherGirl : yeah… I’m fine… 

JustAnotherGirl : my phone battery is dying… 

JiHizzy : Oh! Okay! 

JiHizzy : Get inside quick, please. Charge your phone and message me in the morning… yeah?

JustAnotherGirl : yeah… 

JustAnotherGirl : Goodnight…

JiHizzy : Goodnight beautiful! 

This was getting worse, it was only going to get harder… Maybe you should cut ties with him now… It would be better that way, wouldn’t it? It wasn’t paying off to selfishly keep him, basically trapped behind your phone screen because you were scared of the embarrassment that would come along with actually meeting him. You needed to let him go…

///

Your roommate was laying in bed, a sheet mask over her face and the bedside table lamp had been dimmed. She was sleeping, at least that’s what you thought, until the door latch clicked as you shut it and she jumped up. “What were you out doing, huh?” The questions immediately started, and you shook your head, going over to your bed and yanking back the blankets. “I know that you weren’t out with… him. He would drop dead before being seen with the likes of you, ya know?” 

She snickered annoyingly, and you whipped around, your face scrunched up as you tried to keep the tears at bay. “How? How do you know that? How should I know that?! Do you know him?! Do you really know him?!” You asked, or, more like begged for her to give you the answers. You weren’t really sure why you were going to her of all people, maybe you were just desperate to hear that… that you would be good enough… Maybe not for him… But for someone. 

The loud laugh that poured from her lips was like a gut punch, and you dropped down onto your bed, absolutely humiliated, devastated, you felt like a fool. “Listen… I’m gonna do you a favor… You know, since we’re… friends…” This was bound to be an awful idea, you were sure of it, but you felt like she was going to keep talking anyway and… It was beginning to feel like you didn’t have a choice. “I think it’ll be a win for both of us… So, I’ll meet him, as you… And you get to keep talking to him at night. He’ll fall in love with me and my beautiful looks, as everyone always does, and… Well, you won’t be lonely. How does that sound?” 

It sounded terrible, it sounded awful, it was an elaborate ruse that surely no one would fall for… But… He wouldn’t ask you to meet him anymore… You’d still talk to him… She wouldn’t bother you or even have a reason to try to embarrass you on campus. You could stay hidden, it could work… It could really work. “Fine…” You mumbled, running your hands over your face, trying not to think too hard. “You… I don’t want to get involved too much with… What the two of you might do… But if he brings it up in the chat… You’ll have to… Tell me…” It was the last thing you’d ever want to know, but if this was going to work, you’d have to give him up just to have him still… It sounded crazy. You’d never have with him what she could… All you would ever be able to have are late night conversations, living out a fantasy through the tellings of your roommate and him. It would have to be good enough. 

“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll tell you everything!” She clapped her perfectly manicured nails together, and you knew there was something sinister about it, but this felt like the only way. “Get some sleep, we have a lot of planning to do tomorrow. This is going to be great!” 

///

“Where did you tell him to meet me… I mean… you?” She whispered, reading over your shoulder to try to see what the messages on your phone said. This was it… Today was the day… She’d probably tell him to delete the app since he finally met “you”. Was it worth it? Probably not… But you had been alone for the longest time before this all happened, you’d be fine with being alone after this as well. Nothing would change for you… But she would get everything she wanted… As if she didn’t have it all already. 

“The… The fountain, at the center of campus…” You mumbled. Would he really think it was you? The two of you sounded nothing alike… But would he be able to pick up on that? Probably not, he didn’t seem like the type that really cared for things like that. He was so excited that you finally agreed to meet him, the messages were flooding in and she had been right there to read all of them. 

JiHizzy : I’m on my way to the fountain now! 

JiHizzy : I can’t believe this is finally happening… We’ve been talking for almost 4 months now…

JiHizzy : Isn’t this crazy?!?! 

JiHizzy : I’m just a little nervous… I hope you don’t mind.

JustAnotherGirl : I don’t… I don’t mind at all…

Have fun… You thought to yourself as you stood at a distance, watching as Jooyi stood at the fountain, switching between sitting on the edge and standing every couple of seconds. She fumbled with the edge of her skirt, and fixed her hair, then checked her makeup. She was nothing like you… Would he be able to notice, even if you had only talked through text and occasionally on the phone? Was he able to tell your personality through little things like that? 

Then you saw him, practically sprinting towards the fountain, it was like everything was in slow motion. Did he even know who to look for? Would Jooyi fit the image of you that he created in his mind? You leaned against the light pole, your phone clutched against your chest… One message and you could ruin this all for her… But it would cost you too much, and you would have nothing to show for it, nothing to gain. People like you weren’t made for people like him, he would never stoop so low as to even look in your direction. They were made for each other… Who were you to ruin things? 

“Jisung!” You heard her voice ringing in your ears, and you looked up from the pavement to see her waving in his direction, and he paused. Did he know? You watched him closely, and you saw the smile slowly beginning to form on his face before he sprinted over to her. His arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug, picking her up and spinning her around before setting her on the ground. It would never be you, that could never be you… You made two people happy today… It should feel good, but you felt sick, and you quickly turned away, rushing back to your dorm room. You didn’t have to be there to watch it, you’d hear all about it when she came back. 

///

JiHizzy : It was… Wow… 

JiHizzy : Finally meeting you in person! It’s amazing! 

JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! I’m so happy that I finally got to meet you! 

You sniffled softly as you looked over his messages. They wouldn’t be the same again, nothing would. He’d talk about everything that he did with “you”, and you’d just have to respond as if… as if it were truly you there. This… This deal… It wasn’t fair at all. It was just rubbing into your face everything that Jooyi got to do with him… And he was the one unknowingly telling you… She was evil… But she was a master at being just that. 

JiHizzy : Well… Do you want to talk on the phone? I mean… 

JiHizzy : We’ve already met each other and… I don’t know why… 

JiHizzy : I could ask you for your number… But I don’t want to get rid of the app.

JustAnotherGirl : oh? Why?

JiHizzy : There’s just so many memories on here…

JiHizzy : Sometimes when I’m alone or sad… I go back through our messages. You really know how to make me happy…

JustAnotherGirl : Really…?

JiHizzy : Yeah… Really. 

JiHizzy : Don’t tell anyone though! The guys would totally mock me for that.

JustAnotherGirl : I won’t… I won’t tell anyone.

Jooyi burst through the door, shopping bags lining her arms and she dropped them carelessly to the floor before falling back onto her bed, a loud, ear piercing squeal escaping her as she kicked her feet. “He’s so amazing! He’s so much cuter up close! He wants to take me on a date this weekend!!” She squealed again, and you felt disgusted. Did he want to take her on a date, or did he want to take you on a date? Was it her looks or was it your personality that he liked? 

“I’m… Really happy for you, Jooyi.” You lied through gritted teeth. You hated hearing about it, you hated hearing her in general, but hearing her talk about him as if she was the one who had put in the work over four months to get him to like her… It was unfair. You faked a yawn and rubbed your eyes, acting tired just to be able to wipe your tears without her noticing. “I’m gonna go to the library and study. I’ll see you later.” 

She was lost in her own world, but she sat up as you reached the door, your backpack slung over your shoulder and your hand on the doorknob. “Hey!” You put on a smile as you turned to face her, waiting for her to continue. “Did he message you? Did he talk about me? Hmm?” 

You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket, you knew it was him, but you shook your head. “Haven’t heard from him… Maybe he deleted the app… I don’t know. I have to study though, I’ll let you know if he does.” She sighed softly, letting her head fall back against the mattress, she was back in dreamland. Her whole life was a dream… And yours was a nonstop nightmare. 

///

The library was practically empty when you walked in, you could hear every squeak of the floorboards as the one or two other students paced the shelves of books. You could almost hear the buzzing of the fluorescent light that hung over your head… You could hear… “Is this seat taken?” The man asked, and you looked up to see Jisung standing next to the chair that was across from you. It was strange, and you looked around at the vast amount of empty tables that filled the large building. Why would he want to sit with you? “I don’t like sitting by myself… I feel like it’s easier to study when I have someone sitting with me.” 

Could he read your mind? Pfft, no! That’s impossible. “It’s not taken…” You mumbled, trying to keep your voice low, hoping that he wouldn’t recognize it from the phone calls. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how furious Jooyi would be if she found out about this. Maybe you should just leave. You could study another night. Then your phone vibrated against the table, your heart froze, and Jisung, who had been smiling at his own phone looked up at you. 

“Heh… That’s a coincidence. I just sent a message and your phone vibrated!” He said rather cheerfully, and the way he looked at you, it was like he was expecting you to check it. There was no way in hell you’d do that though. You awkwardly giggled, shoving your phone into your backpack as you shook your head. 

“Probably an email or something… It is… Ironic though…” You whispered, lowering your head even further into the textbook that you had opened. You felt his eyes linger on you though, like they were burning through you, and you didn’t know whether to feel flustered, nervous, or both those things and everything in between. “D-Do you need something? A pencil… Or-” 

“I know you…” He said matter-of-factly, and it was like your throat closed up and your chest tightened. How did he know you? What was he talking about? He couldn’t possibly know you. “You’re the top student… You’re like, mega smart! I can see why now… Do you always study this late?” 

Relief, a sigh of relief and a deep breath. You were safe… You shouldn’t overthink too much. “Mmn…” You nodded your head once but kept it bowed, trying to focus on the words in the textbook, but it was so hard. “Thank you…” You added, wondering if maybe that was what he was waiting for. 

He chuckled softly, and then you felt the table shake as he dropped his own backpack on the table and started pulling out a bunch of notebooks. “You make it seem so easy. How do you just… Concentrate? It’s so hard for me to do.” He whined, and you looked around as his voice got higher and higher. “Oh… Sorry.” His voice dropped back down to a whisper and then he chuckled softly. 

His laugh was contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, your hand clasping over your mouth to try to muffle the noise. “It’s easy… You just have to find the fun in it.” He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you and you pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at his reaction. “Seriously. Here, let me show you.” 

It was supposed to be a solo study session, honestly, it was just to try to get away from your roommate long enough for her to fall asleep. You never in your wildest dreams expected this to happen. It was like a scene straight out of a k-drama, but you also knew that after these types of scenes, things got bad. But you didn’t want to think about that right now… All you could think about was the way that he laughed with you, the way he smiled at you, the way he talked to you like you were a person and not just the dirt beneath his shoes. 

“You remind me of someone.” He said nonchalantly as you both started packing up your books. You blinked a few times, your head tilting to the side as you waited for him to elaborate, but he was looking at his phone, his smile dropping slightly as he turned it off and slid it into his pocket. “Oh… It’s nothing. She must have just fallen asleep. She’s always so tired. She studies a lot… Kind of like you. Maybe you can tutor me… I’ll bring her too! That would be cool, right?” Cool… Not at all. It was the complete opposite of cool. That… That would never work.

“M-Maybe… I don’t know… I tutor a couple other people.” You came up with the lie quickly, and you hated the way his smile almost completely disappeared. Maybe you could make an exception… It’s not like he’d find out… Right? Jooyi would just have to act interested in studying. You were sure that if you told her, she’d be on board… “I’ll… I’ll see if I can schedule you in.” 

And just like that, his smile was back and he was pulling his phone out again. “Awesome! Uhm, how about we exchange phone numbers and…” He trailed off when he saw the look on your face, and you were sure that you looked quite uneasy. There was no way that would go over well with Jooyi, she’d flip shit. “How about Anonny… You know the app, right? Everyone has it!” Oh shit… That was even worse. 

“How about… We leave it up to fate.” His eyebrow arched, and you were really going out on a limb here with the excuses, but you had to protect yourself… Not just from him, but from Jooyi too. You didn’t have much to lose… But it was enough to have you terrified. “If we both manage to come to the library at the same time, if you see me here, I’ll tutor you. I usually come at night though… Just so you know.” 

You bowed your head to him as you got up, putting on your backpack and heading out, and you could hear him following behind you. “I’ll be here. Every night. I’ll study on my own too… Thank you, for helping me.” You hummed in response, pushing open the main door and you were met with a rather brisk gust of wind that had you shivering and shoving your hands into your pockets. “Are you cold? Here…” He shimmied out of his top coat, placing it over your shoulders and smiling when he saw it on you. “You can return it to me next time fate brings us together, okay? Just stay warm, and get home safe.” 

For fucks sake… 

///

JiHizzy : Hey, whatcha up to?

JiHizzy : It’s been like… 3 hours… Are you mad or something? 

JiHizzy : You must be sleeping… I just feel like somethings wrong… 

JiHizzy : Let me know when you get this message… Okay?

Your roommate was fast asleep when you finally got in, and you quickly took off Jisungs coat and slid it under your bed, safe for now at least from the prying eyes of Jooyi. As you curled up under your blankets, ready to just fall asleep, ready to let yourself drift off into a world where you didn’t have to pretend and you didn’t have to lie to the man who had sat across from you in the library when there were so many tables to choose from. The man who smiled at you and made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Then your phone vibrated once more from under your pillow. 

JiHizzy : I was studying tonight… I know how important it is to you and… I wanted to do it. JiHizzy : I met someone there, she reminded me of you a lot! 

JiHizzy : I hope these aren’t waking you up… I know you’re sleeping. 

JustAnotherGirl : I was at the library too. We must have just missed each other…

JiHizzy : NO WAY! Dammit! Well… 

JiHizzy : I was thinking that we can do study dates. Wouldn’t that be cool? 

JustAnotherGirl : It would. I really like that idea. 

JiHizzy : Awesome! Okay! 

JiHizzy : Goodnight cutie! 

Study dates… That’s how you had looked at tonight, or you were just delusional. If tonight had happened sooner… Would you have taken Jooyi up on her deal? He seemed to be just fine with you… He wasn’t embarrassed, he wasn’t ashamed to be sitting across from you and laughing with you… Would he have liked you still if he knew who you really were? 

///

“So, how was your night last night? You got home safe?” Jisung asked and you heard Jooyi giggle loudly, it was so fake, it made you sick. He was such a genuine person, and she was nothing but a stuck up little- 

“My night was wonderful! I went shopping for our date this weekend. I can’t wait for you to see the outfits I picked out!” You sank down onto the bench. Shit… You hadn’t told her… What would happen now? 

“Sh-Shopping?” He questioned, and you wanted to crawl under a rock. You wanted to hide from her and the wrath that you knew was bound to be coming your way. “I thought you were studying? You said… You said you were at the library…” 

She went silent, and even though you were outside, you could feel the tension in the air. “Did… Did I say shopping?! Oh my gosh, I meant studying! I’m a big nerd! You know me!” She laughed again, but this time there was something else… Nervousness? Irritation? Anger? She’d be looking for you. 

“You’re acting weird… Are you okay?” He asked, and she scoffed loudly. Should you spare a glance and risk meeting eyes with her? “Were you just… Lying about studying? Was it to try to… Impress me? You know you don’t have to do that.” 

“I know I don’t. I’m impressive enough!” She said loudly, it’s like she enjoyed making scenes. She was disgusting. “I have to go really quick, I forgot my big ol’ textbook back at my room. I’ll meet up with you later? We can have lunch!” 

“Y-Yeah… Sure…” Something had changed… He wasn’t buying it anymore. But you didn’t have time to worry about that. Jooyi was looking for you, and you were tired of being scared of her. You were tired of worrying about what she’d do or what she’d say about you. Jisung liked you, even if just as a friend… You had been made clear of that last night at the library. She couldn’t even make it one day… The two of you were just too different, and he had noticed. You weren’t sure what would happen next, but you weren’t going to hide away, you weren’t going to give in. You deserved to be happy… You might not have the money, you don’t have the luxuries, but you have the willpower, and you have the drive… And that was worth way more than what her money could ever buy. 

“I need to talk to you… Now.” As if like magic, she appeared in front of you. She was angry, no doubt, but there was nothing she could do to hurt you. So you got up, following her off to the side of one of the buildings, and before you could say anything the palm of her hand connected with your cheek. “You bitch! You said that you’d tell me when he messaged you! Was this your plan?! To humiliate me in front of him!” 

Now it was your turn to scoff, your turn to laugh, and while the sting in your cheek hurt, it didn’t hurt as much as knowing that you almost let him get away, you almost let him get stuck with someone like her. “I didn’t have to plan it for it to work out like this. You humiliated yourself. He isn’t your type… Deal with it.” 

“You…” She started, but it quickly turned to a scream, one filled with pure rage as she started grabbing at the pockets of your jacket. “Give me your phone! He doesn’t want you! He wants me! You’re nothing! You’re poor and you’re pathetic and you’ll never have him! Why would anyone want you!” She just… screamed… She screamed so loud, and with every attempt to grab at you, you swatted her hands away, backing up further and further until you bumped into something… or… someone. “Oh! Jisung!” She full stopped, adjusting her hair and putting on the fakest smile. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, looking between you and Jooyi. “What are you talking about?” His eyes focused on you a lot longer, as if studying you, and you felt the heat of his gaze, but it didn’t burn, it just made you feel warm, it made you feel safe. “Why do you want her phone?” 

Jooyi was stuttering over herself, unable to form a coherent sentence as her head shook violently. “She… Sh-She’s blackmailing me, Ji! She stole my username on Anonny… She’s pretending to be me so that she can get with you… So she can take you away from me!” She whined, and you couldn’t help but look disgustedly at her. She truly was the queen of scenes, stomping her feet and throwing a tantrum like a child would. How pathetic. 

“My… tutor… Is blackmailing… You?” He questioned, and her eyes widened before turning her daggers towards you. “What’s your name on Anonny? If she stole it from you… What is it?” You didn’t have to do anything, he was putting all of the pieces together for himself. You weren’t sure what would happen once the puzzle finally came together… And maybe it wouldn’t work out for you… But to see her get knocked down to size, it made it all worth it. 

“I-It… My Anonny name? You know it! You tell me what it is!” She said, and you knew why, she was trying to get him to say it… But he was smarter than that. He shook his head, letting out a disappointed chuckle, and then his attention was back on you. “Don’t! Don’t look at her! Look at me! You love me!” 

“Do I?” He whispered, but he never looked away from you, his head tilted and a small smile on his face. “What’s your Anonny username?” He asked, and you felt the heat rising inside of you. This was your chance, your moment, you didn’t know where it would lead you to, but it was time. 

“I’m… JustAnotherGirl… Just another girl that has a crush on you… That gets overlooked and forgotten. But I’m here… And I’ve been here for four months…” You murmured, and he let out a shaky gasp. Was he embarrassed? Was he ashamed that you were the girl he had been talking to for so long? “I’m sorry. I’m not popular, I’m not even close to rich. I don’t have much to give… But-” 

“But you’re perfect…” He stepped closer to you, causing you to stumble back as your breath hitched in your throat. “You’re smart, and you’re sweet… You’re kind and you’re genuine. You’re not materialistic, you’re just… You’re wonderful, you’re wonderfully you…” His hand reached up, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek. “You’re the girl that I fell in love with…” 

“WHAT!!?” Jooyi screeched from behind you, and before you knew it, you and Jisung were being pushed apart. “Are you serious right now?! Her?! She’s… She’s a roach! She’s vermin! I can’t believe you right now! Have you seen me?!” 

“Sadly.” Jisung retorted, and it took everything in you not to laugh, but everyone that had gathered around to see what was going on laughed enough for you. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” 

“G-Girlfriend?!” Jooyi scoffed, running her hands through her hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Just… When you lose all your friends because you’re with a loser, don’t come crawling back to me! Have fun being not popular!” 

“I think it’s time for us to go, don’t you?” He asked, completely ignoring her now as he draped his arm over your shoulder. “You want lunch? Anything you want, it’s on me.” 

///

HanJi : I’ll be at the library soon. I’ve got hot cocoa!

Beautiful Wonderful Girlfriend : Don’t drive too fast, the snow is really coming down now… 

“I know it is…” His voice came from behind you, and then the cups of hot cocoa were placed in front of you on the table. “It’s really pretty, isn’t it?” You glanced out the window, awestruck at just how beautiful campus could look when blanketed in dazzling white snow. “You brought your coat, right?” 

You nodded your head, patting the chair beside you where the coat that he had given you almost 2 years ago was neatly hanging over the back of the seat. “It’s your coat… You just won’t let me give it back.” You teased, and he let out a soft sigh as he dropped down into his seat. He hadn’t changed a bit since the first time you both sat at this table together. 

It was strange how time worked, it felt like forever ago, but you remembered it like it had happened just yesterday. “It’s our coat, babe. What’s mine is yours.” He sounded so serious, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the statement. He was talking like the two of you were… Married? Your laughter subsided as you stared at him across the table, your lips parted slightly as you let out a quiet breath. 

“You’re funny…” You said sheepishly, turning your attention back out the window, focusing on the snowflakes that danced down from the sky, finding the perfect place to rest. “We’re not married, our things don’t have to be shared…” Even though you both had been together for two years and he was the sweetest, most loving boyfriend you had ever had… You still couldn’t get those words out of your head. The words from the past that had been uttered by the girl that had wanted to take your place… He would never want to be with someone like you…

“Yet…” He murmured, the word like a breath leaving his lips. You blinked a few times, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart thumping loudly in your chest. Did he really love you that much? Could someone really love you that much? Were you deserving of this much love, to be with someone like him? “What are you thinking about, babe?” He cooed, reaching across the table to grab your hands that were folded on top, his thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles. 

“I’m just…” You began, feeling the familiar sting of fresh tears beginning to brim in your eyes, but it was slightly different this time… They weren’t tears of sadness or fear… You were happy. “I’m so lucky… And… I never thought I’d be with someone so amazing… So perfect…” You could barely get your voice above a whisper, your throat closing up from trying to hold back your tears. 

“Mm…” He hummed, pushing away from the table and getting up, walking around to your side of the table and grabbing your hand. “Let’s take a walk… yeah?” One more glance out the window and you saw the snow creating almost a wall of white as it came down harder, but there was no wind, it was just… beautiful. “I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry.” 

You nodded your head, grabbing the coat and slipping it on, the scent of his cologne, although faded, still brought you comfort when you put it on. “Where are we going?” You quizzed, slipping your fingers between his as you both walked out of the library. You were sure that nothing would be open, not with this weather. 

“Anywhere… I just… I want to walk with you.” He said, his voice kind of shaky, like his nerves had gotten the better of him. He led you aimlessly through campus, and you followed right along beside him. You didn’t really care where you were going, as long as you were with him, you’d follow the path he was taking blindly with your hand in his. “I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’ll do it…” 

Was he talking to you or was he just thinking out loud? You looked to him, the snowflakes catching on your eyelashes as you tried to read him, but he was looking straight forward, his lips turned up into a lopsided smile. “How you’ll do what?” Even though you were speaking softly, the silence that surrounded you made every word sound so loud. 

“Propose.” He sounded so calm, but the singular word alone had you pausing, pulling him back so he would face you. “What? Can I not think about how I’m going to propose to my wonderful, beautiful, amazing, sweet, lovely-“ 

“Okay okay!” Even after 2 years, you still weren’t the best at taking compliments, especially when he was looking at you so intently. “Why are you thinking about that right now? We’re still in college and… I want you to focus on graduating. So we can both be successful. You know?” 

His hand slipped out of yours and then his arm snaked around your waist as he started walking again, pulling you along with him. “I can focus on graduating, and I can focus on you. I’ve been doing it since the day I truly met you… the real you.” He chuckled quietly, the sound building in his chest as his head shook. It was funny now, to look back on everything that happened. “And I like thinking about the future, it makes me happy to know that I’ll be spending it with you. But you don’t have to worry about me proposing in college… I wouldn’t want everyone to see. I want it to be a moment for us to remember.” You hummed softly, leaning against his shoulder as you simply listened to him, you let him get lost in his thoughts because you didn’t mind getting lost in them either. They had you looking forward to a better, simpler time where the two of you would be able to be together without worrying about grades and finals. “Flower petals will line the path that I’ll take you down…” He murmured, and your eyes were focused on his face, not noticing the trail of pink and red in the snow. “A gazebo, with fairy lights twinkling brightly, shining in your eyes…” He continued, sighing softly. “Nobody is around, the snow is falling, you look absolutely stunning against the backdrop…” 

“A winter proposal?” You asked, and you were so lost in his thoughts and your own that you hadn’t even noticed how far you had walked until he was leading you up the stairs of a white wooden gazebo, perfect icicles hanging off the roof of it, and… fairy lights illuminated the inside. “Ji…” You whispered his name, a tuft of smoke coming from your mouth as you breathed it out. His arm left your waist and he kneeled down in front of you, his cheeks a dark pink from both the cold and his nerves. “You said… You said you wouldn’t propose when we were still in college…” 

He snickered, fishing a black velvet box out of his pocket, his snow dampened hair curtaining his eyes as he kept his head down. “I meant… not while we were in the college. We’re not on the grounds anymore…” He finally looked up at you, and you let out a shaky gasp as it truly set in what he was doing. “I don’t want to wait any longer, I know that you’re the one that I want to spend all of my life with. I’ve never felt more comfortable with anyone else. I love you, I’ve known that I loved you since before I even… before I even knew you. I wake up every morning and thank everything that you’re mine, and I fall asleep every night knowing that no matter what, everything will be okay because I have you by my side. I don’t care what anyone thinks, I don’t care what people might say… I only care that you’re happy… And if you say yes, I promise… To do my best to make you feel happy and loved every single day until the day that I die.” He opened the box, and the diamond facets of the silver ring glistened and reflected the lights that had been strung up. “So… Will you… Will you marry me?” 

You choked out a sob, dropping to your knees in front of him as you nodded your head yes, and he quickly pulled the ring out of the box, his hand shaking as he slid it onto your finger. “Ji…” Was all you could say as you looked at the ring, cold, yet so beautiful in its place. His chilled hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head so that your eyes would meet his. “I love you…” 

“And I’ll always love you.” He leaned in, kissing you softly and humming against your lips. “Shall we go back inside and warm up, my beautiful, lovely, wonderful, amazing-“ 

“Stop~” You playfully whined, giggling quietly as you dropped your gaze once more. “You’re so cheesy…” You mumbled, and then you felt his lips against your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face. 

“And you’re… You’re everything to me…” He pushed himself up to his feet, carefully pulling you up and then hugging you tightly. “Thank you, for making me happy, for loving me… I can’t wait to marry you."

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[her-favorite]

THE EYES IN IOWA; LEE

LEE X F!(NON-EATER)READER

warnings: (very vague) references to cannibalism (it’s b&a, do i even need to add this?), honestly, this is more cute than anything else, so.. fluff!!

wc: 2667

a/n: lee is my fav timmy character so i get soo excited when i get a lee request 🤭 i hope you like this anon! i had sm fun writing this; i’d love some more lee stuff in my inbox!!

SYNOPSIS: You felt the eyes on you, but you forced yourself to brush it off. You came to realize that was hard to do when the eyes came to you.

-

You’ve always been a careful person.

You’ve always looked both ways before you crossed the street; you’ve always checked expiration dates before you bought certain foods; and you’ve always took in your surroundings when you left the house.

Which confused you why you couldn’t see the man following you.

As you stalked the aisles in the store, your eyes gazed by each product on the shelf, waiting to find the one you came here for. When nothing caught your eye, you sighed and began to walk away. As soon as you turned your head to glance back, your eyes caught on a figure a couple feet behind you. You turned back around before you could bump into someone, but the faded red curly hair quickly stuck out in your mind. As well as the baggy clothes and the ripped jeans. You couldn’t get much of a look at his face, but you did notice that his head was turned towards you.

Looking down at your shoes as you walked away, you tried not to let it get to you. Letting out a deep breath, you kept walking towards the exit.

Rounding a corner, you ignore the footsteps behind you and convince yourself they were anybody else’s. When dirty white shoes fill your eyesight, you had no choice but to look up.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering where the candy aisle was?” His voice was smooth, something you weren’t expecting to like. His red hair stuck out in front of the bright white walls behind him, his dirty sleeveless graphic tee hung loosely on his body, putting his arms on display. His baggy jeans hung around his thin waist, just barely giving you a peek of the black boxers that hid the v-line that began to start. The holes in the blue material were large around his knees, showcasing his pale skin.

“Uh, it’s right over.. there.” You turn around and point to the right. With your back facing him, you had no idea if he was listening to you, but you could only hope.

“Right, thanks.” He replies, his voice, against your better judgment, slightly soothing your worries. When you turned around to face him again, your eyes immediately met his. He was already staring at you. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.” The man moves slightly, switching his weight to his opposite foot.

You quickly shut down his strange start to a conversation, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen you around here.” You deny, ringing your hands together anxiously as you subtly try to find the exit.

He seemed to pick up on your demeanor as he licks his lips, taking a moment to watch you. “Alright, well, thanks for telling me where the aisle is,” He breaks the silence and points in the same direction you had minutes ago. You nod, deciding to break the staring contest you had with your shoes to meet his eyes. They were a deep green, captivating you instantly. In a certain light, you would’ve been fooled they were brown instead. “Catch you around?” He says, as if he’s genuinely hoping he’ll see you soon.

You nod again and give him a smile before walking around him, darting towards the exit. Once you leave the store, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Fresh air hits you as you walk through the parking lot, your mind racing.

Maybe you were just overthinking the entire situation. Maybe he wasn’t following you, maybe he just wanted to ask someone - who just so happened to be you - where the candy was in a store he was unfamiliar with. You forced yourself to go with that answer as you pulled the drivers side door shut, relaxing back in your seat. Before you could finish your deep breath, two knocks sounded from beside you.

Jumping up from your spot, you look to your left at your rolled up window. The same man from inside stood before you, his hand now lowering from the glass. His lips parted as he began to speak, but it was quickly muffled from the barrier between you both.

Against your better judgment, you rolled down the window, the summer breeze hitting you gently.

“Hey, sorry to bother again, but you dropped these while you were leaving.” The words left his mouth perfectly, almost as if he were rehearsing them beforehand. He brings his hand back up, your keys hanging on his pointer finger. You couldn’t help but notice the tattoos on his fingers, admiring the ink that stained his pale skin.

“Oh, thank you,” you reply. You realized that you hadn’t even looked for your keys when you entered your car, too busy thinking about the man that’s currently standing beside your car.

You started to reach out for them, when he suddenly pulled his hand away. “What’s your name?” You were caught off guard by his question, not expecting the words to leave him. You stared at him for a couple seconds before he continued, “I’m Lee.” He introduced himself, looking at you through your opened window, his eyes squinted slightly from the blinding sun.

You sigh lightly before replying, “Y/N.” You notice a small smirk form on his lips when you decide to answer him.

“Pretty.” Lee mumbles, taking a glance at the keys in his hands before looking back at you. “Actually,” he continues, bringing a hand up to his hair, brushing his fingers through it. “I was wondering if you could drive me somewhere, or even just take me with you. My car,” he turns and points to an old, blue pickup truck a couple feet away. “Broke down and I can’t call anyone or take it anywhere, so,” he purses his lips and shrugs loosely, his body language seeming to be very careless.

You noticed that he still held onto your keys as he explained his situation to you, no candy or anything in his hands or pockets. There wasn’t much harm he could do to you without a weapon, right?

Knowing you already lost the battle as soon as he stepped up to you in that store, you nod your head in agreement. “Yeah, sure. I can take you somewhere to get it towed if you’d like?” You offered, watching his reaction.

“Sounds great, thanks.” He smiles, showcasing his pearly whites. You silently admire the smile lines he has, adding to his already charismatic personality. He rounds the front of your car before hopping into the passenger seat, handing you your keys. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize I still had them.” Lee apologizes, watching you start the engine.

A minute or two pass by as you begin to pull out of the parking lot and turn on the radio. The soft hum of the music flows alongside the wind that passed through the car from the open windows. It was a beautiful day outside, the sun shining, birds singing and kids running around, chasing each other or playing on the playground. It was the perfect weather for a walk or a swim, something you now wish you had. As you slowly got lost in your thoughts, you watched the road ahead of you, not paying attention to the man beside you.

Lee never took his eyes off of you once, unless it was to turn if you took a glance at him. There was just something so intriguing about you to him, but he couldn’t place it. He has never spent more than five minutes looking for someone to fall victim to him before, but he’s spent two whole days on watching you. Had he not been a killer, he would’ve beat himself up for being so weird and stalking you the past 48 hours. But there’s not much else he can do that’s worse than what he’s doing now, he reminds himself.

As he observes the way your hands slide over the wheel; the way your eyebrows furrow when a car goes when it’s not supposed to; the way you relax back in your seat when you stop at a red light; or even just looking forward at the road, he realizes how beautiful you are. He can’t go through with this, he thinks. He can’t harm you, his body won’t let him. He knows your name now, he’s been in your car, in your head… he can’t hurt you.

Clearing his throat, he sits up and reaches over to turn the radio up. His washed out curls rest against the headrest as he closes his eyes, feeling the cool breeze hit his skin.

You take a glance over at him, quickly memorizing the picture of him. His nose arches perfectly as his eyelashes lay softly, his hair blowing slightly from the air, the piercing in his ear shining from hitting the sun, and his Adam’s apple sticking out as his neck is pushed out from his position. You bring your eyes back to the road in front of you, thankful that no other cars were near. You let your tense shoulders start to calm as you slowly drift into the music playing, licking your lips as they started to dry from the wind.

“You’re really beautiful,” had the radio been up a notch higher, the words would’ve passed by you. You quickly look over at him, smiling softly and noticing that he was already looking at you. You quietly thank him, looking back at the street, a straight road in front of you for a couple minutes.

“You’re not too bad,” you reply, laughing slightly to show him not to take you too seriously. Your smile grew when you heard a chuckle escape his lips, a deep but comforting sound you’d like to hear more of. You felt a nudge to your thigh in response to your teasing reply, noticing the tatted hand of his move back into his lap.

“Thanks, ma.” Lee smiles, looking at you and then in front of him, watching the trees and houses go by. The name catches you off guard, but doesn’t upset you. If anything, you try not to smile wider at the unexpected endearment.

As you take a right, you notice a sign for a car shop coming up. You point to it, “do you wanna stop there and pick up your truck?” You spare a glance at him as he follows your finger, quickly reading the small letters on the even smaller sign.

“Nah, it’s fine. I can go back later and pick it up. She’ll still be there, I’m sure.” He chuckles softly and runs his fingers through his curls, picking out a knot or two.

“You sure?” You doublecheck but agree once he nods his head again, looking over at you to make eye contact. “Okay… do you want me to drop you off anywhere? Your house?” You look over at him, gazing into his eyes for any type of emotion.

“Uh, I don’t really have much besides my truck. Kinda been livin’ with her the past few months, taking drives everywhere and nowhere, ya know?” Lee rambles, leaning back in the seat, looking over at you to gage your reaction. You nod in understanding, taking a deep breath as you try and figure out what to say.

“You can.. stay at mine? I mean, I just moved in so there’s not much furniture, but,” you shrug, “i’m sure it’s better than sleeping in a car all the time.” You suggest kindly, looking over once before moving back to the road, nervous for his rejection.

Lee watches the way you avoid his eyes, taking in your body language. He wants to accept your offer more than anything, for more reasons than one. But, deep down, he knows he shouldn’t. The urge inside him was going to get stronger the more he stayed with you… but what’s wrong with being selfish for once in awhile? He couldn’t remember the last time he’s felt this normal, besides with his sister Kayla, which he now came to realize he should probably visit her soon.

“You sure? I snore.” He teases, smiling as he watches your lips curl up. If your smile was the last thing he ever saw, he could go peacefully.

“I’m sure. I’m a blanket hogger,” you grin, laughing softly as you tease him back. He playfully groans and throws himself back in his seat.

“Oh, great.” He states loudly, drawing in more laughs from you. Lee smiles fondly at your reaction to his jokes, silently hoping nothing will go wrong in the next couple hours. How could he have ever thought about using you for his insatiable desire? He was far too infatuated with you now.

-

Putting the car in park as you pull into your driveway, the sun begins to set. The sky was turning into a bluish-purple as the sun slowly hid itself away, the moon revealing as it moved higher in the sky.

You shut off your car as the radio cuts off and the engine stops. Your eyes meet Lee’s as he glances at you before opening his door. You copy his actions as you step out of the car, walking towards your front door. He follows you, his baggy jeans swaying against his legs. You unlock the door, opening it and stepping inside, leaving it open so he can join you.

“This is nice,” Lee says, gesturing to the room he was in. You laugh lightly at his words, turning back to look at him.

“I’m only halfway done with it, I still have a lot more in mind.” You reply, now looking around your living room, taking in the scarce amount of furniture and decor.

He shrugs, “it looks like you.”

“You don’t even know me.” You smile, looking over at him. You both stood a couple feet away from each other, eyes locked. A smirk forms on Lee’s face at your words, dirty shoes making contact with your floor as he makes his way over to you.

“Then let me get to know you.” He whispered, looking down at you. He looks down at your lips before moving his gaze back up to your eyes, watching you repeat his actions. You meet him halfway as you lean towards him, closing your eyes as your lips connect with his. You feel his big hands curl around your hips, squeezing the skin. You subconsciously move closer to him, moving your hands to rest on his neck, your dominant one reaching up to brush your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You pull away when the air dissipates from your lungs, but not moving far away from him. Your breath hits his as his lips stay inches away from yours. You open your eyes slowly, looking up into his. The green hypnotizes you as you stare into them, your hand moving from his hair to the side of his face.

“Why did you pick me, Lee?” You whisper, gently bringing him down a bit so you could rest your forehead against his.

“What do you mean?” He asks, matching your volume. A soft hum of music starts to fill the air, the radio you kept in your house just now starting to play, despite it being a couple minutes from when you turned it on.

“Why did you ask me - out of everyone in that store - where the candy aisle was? I saw you before you walked up to me.” You confess, starting to sway your body lightly to the music. He follows with you, copying your movements. His hands start to slide under your shirt, resting gently against your bare waist.

“Don’t know,” he shrugs slightly, his voice still quiet. “I guess you just captivated me the moment I saw you.” Lee responds, his thumb starting to rub soothing circles against your skin.

“Yeah?” You whisper, softer than before.

“Yeah.” Lee confirms.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 9] Gender Reveal

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji does everything in his power to win you back, and lately it seems that he can only do that with things that are baby related. Your second ultrasound comes up, and it’s when you finally find out the sex of your baby. It’s fair to say that you’re over the moon with this, and Toji wouldn’t say it but he’s already really excited about this. 

He’s becoming a father again, and even though he said he never wanted another baby, he’s just thinking about another chunky baby who he can be overly affectionate with, with no judgment. Maybe Toji isn’t all that affectionate, but he did love kissing Megumi’s chubby little cheeks while nobody was looking. It was just the best feeling in the world for him. One of the perks of being a father.

Toji suggested you do a small gender reveal party since he looked up online ways to surprise your pregnant wife, and that popped up. He asked Shiu for some help with setting it up, and that’s what he’s doing tomorrow. Toji is doing everything in his power to get on your good side. He’ll do just about anything to win you back, even if it’s just a stupid little party that he wouldn’t throw if you were on good terms.

“Megumi! Come here!” Toji yells from the couch. He has his reading glasses on, blue yarn on his lap while he waits for his son to get to the living room. He’s about to yell Megumi’s name again because the teenager is taking too long, but he finally comes out. He furrows his brows in confusion as he looks at his dad. “Put a knitting video on the Youtube. I want to do something.”

“What are you trying to do, old man?” Megumi asks, grabbing the remote of the smart TV and begins to type what his father wants him to put on.

“I’m your dad, don’t call me old man.” Toji scoffs, and that’s not a good enough argument for Megumi so he will keep calling Toji an old man. “I’m trying to knit a blanket for your baby brother.”

“You’re trying to… What?” Megumi is even more confused than before. Since when does Toji do this– Toji isn’t sentimental nor fluffy enough to do this. Megumi knows his dad better than anyone, and he’s sure that he has to call an exorcist because his father has been possessed by a… Cutesy demon. 

“What?! I’m trying to be a good dad and this is how you treat me! For your information, I helped your mother out with your baby blanket and I want to do the same for my second son!” Toji raises his voice, and that’s the father that Megumi knows. Megumi immediately knows that his father only watched over as his mother made his blanket, but it’s nice to see his father trying since when he shared the news of your pregnancy, Toji didn’t look all that excited. 

“Son? I thought we had the gender reveal party tomorrow.” Megumi asks, and Toji lets out a chuckle. 

“I know I’m having a son, I know better than anyone my seed-” Toji begins and when Megumi gets an idea of what his father is about to say, Megumi covers his ears.

“Oh that’s so gross! I’m leaving.” Megumi puts on the video that his father requested before throwing the remote on the couch and leaving. Toji lowers his glasses to focus on the TV. Why the hell is he fucking doing this again? This looks like he’s going to be hell.

It’s for his son, right… And to make you happy, and show you that he cares.

You felt odd when Toji suggested you do a gender reveal for your baby, but regardless you agreed. It’s nice to see him care about what’s going on, and see that he’s finally let go of the idea of using the baby as a means to get back together and he genuinely cares about the baby now. Toji genuinely seems… excited, if that’s the right word for it.

The small gathering is at Toji’s apartment, and it’s no more than five people. Excluding you, Toji and Megumi, of course. Shiu is in charge of the reveal, so of course he’s invited, and along are some friends that both you and Toji have. 

You’re not all that excited about the gathering, although you can say that you’re happy with the idea that he came up with. It’s thoughtful, you think. Especially from him. You try not to think that he has any ill intent behind his actions. Your Toji wouldn’t. But then again, maybe you don’t know Toji as much as you think you do.

You wear a cute pink dress that accentuates your growing bump. It’s definitely more noticeable now since you’re five months along. At first you felt a bit insecure about it, but you’ve grown to love it. You take every chance to show it off. You grow more and more impatient with each passing day.

You hope that any and all questions are about your pregnancy, and not about the fact that you and Toji aren’t together anymore. A lot of questions have come up, but you manage to dismiss them every time since you’re just talking through the phone. You’re not sure how you’ll handle it in person though, you just know that you’re not really in the mood to talk much about… Anything that’s not baby related.

“Hi, Megumi.” You smile at the teenager that opens the door for you, allowing you inside Toji’s apartment. You notice his pink shirt, one that matches the color of your dress.

Maybe you read the time wrong because when you enter, everyone that was invited is inside. It feels as if the spotlight is on you as you walk in, and it feels nothing short than awkward. They’re all your friends, and they want to approach you, but before they can, Toji walks over to you. Toji hugs you before caressing your bump, and kissing your cheek, which maybe you should call him out on but you don’t want to really say it in front of everyone, and maybe you don’t mind it as much as you should. 

You notice his blue shirt and you smile at him, slightly tilting your head to the side before asking, “You still think it’s a boy?”

“I know it’s a boy.” Toji says, causing you to chuckle. Toji doesn’t want to let go of you, but you feel all eyes on you, plus you have to greet your friends. You’re sort of the star of the show.

“Give her some space. She doesn’t want you all over her right now.” Shiu stops Toji from following you around. Toji frowns, but decides to listen to his friend. Instead, they begin to set out the cake that Shiu got, making sure everything is ready for the big reveal.

Toji keeps his eye on you, cringing at everyone that puts their hand on your bump. You seem to be fine with it, so he shouldn’t really care but he still does. After maybe ten minutes, he clears his throat and suggests, “Should we do the reveal?”

“I haven’t even gotten to eat anything yet.” You respond. You’re dying to know the sex of the baby though, so you stand up to walk to the table where the cake is. You want a girl, but you wouldn’t mind having a baby boy either– Toji swears that it’s a boy though, he has sworn it since your last ultrasound.

“You can eat something after. Let’s get the main event going.” Toji sounds impatient, maybe because he’s tired of you talking to other people that aren’t him. He thinks that after the reveal you’ll be by his side, not thinking that everyone will want to talk to you even more.

“You also think it’s a boy, Shiu?” You ask the man who wears a blue shirt, similar to Toji’s, as you grab the knife to cut the cake. You’re convinced it’s a boy at that moment because Shiu knows the gender of the baby. He ends up shrugging.

“Ignore his ugly ass, let’s get this going. Come here if you want to see!” Toji yells, growing even more impatient. He just wants to confirm that it’s a boy and kick everyone out– Except you, he wants you all to himself. 

“We’re not in a rush, Toji.” You tell him as you take a finger to taste some of the frosting on the cake. You make sure everyone is gathered around, before telling Toji to grab on to the knife as well so you can cut through it together. You cut through the cake, and Toji gets the biggest smile on his face when he sees the blue icing inside the cake. He makes sure everyone sees it, and he has to announce,

“It’s a boy! What did I say?!” Toji makes sure everyone hears that he was, in fact, right. Toji then engulfs you in a hug, kissing your forehead and all over your face again and again. You smile, hugging Toji back. All eyes are on you, and you know they’re confused as to why he’s so affectionate with you, and you’re wondering the same thing. But you understand he’s happy about his baby boy, and so are you.

“Um…” Shiu clears his throat, and Toji rolls his eyes. Why does Shiu want to ruin this sweet moment? Toji doesn’t pull away from the hug, glaring at Shiu. Shiu bites down his bottom lip before saying, “They got the color wrong. You two are having a baby girl.”

“Huh?” Both you and Toji respond in unison, but there’s a huge smile on your face while Toji is just… Confused. You were happy with a boy, of course, but you really wanted a baby girl.

“You’re messing with me, right?” Toji asks, refusing to let go of you. You’re expecting for a frown or a look of disappointment to spread across his face, but it doesn’t. He looks confused… Worried.

“No, man. You’re having a girl.” Shiu confirms, and you feel awkward. You poke Toji’s cheek and he looks down at you. You smile at him before telling him,

“Cheer up. I know you don’t like to be wrong–” You begin but Toji interrupts you. He kisses your forehead.

“I’m happy.” He reassures you, and it sounds sincere. He’ll just need some time to get adjusted to the idea of having a baby girl.

You end up serving the cake, giving a slice to everyone before getting your own and taking a seat beside a friend. Toji doesn’t really care to eat a slice of the cake, what he cares for is pulling Shiu off to the side. Shiu tries to eat his slice, and Toji almost slaps Shiu’s hand. Shiu clears his throat before asking, “What?”

“Really? What? You had one job and you fucked it up. Now I look like a fucking asshole that’s more excited about having a boy than a girl.” Toji begins, and Shiu shrugs. It wasn’t his fault, maybe Toji should’ve reacted differently. “Are you trying to ruin my chances of getting back with my wife or what? I swear, I’ll kill you.”

“It was an honest mistake, Toji. Stop overreacting.” Shiu says before walking away, making Toji let out the biggest sigh. He looks over at Megumi, who seems to be happy with the fact that he’s having a baby sister, he should be at the very least since he’s wearing a pink shirt.

Toji takes a deep breath before walking over to you, taking a seat beside you, joining you and your friend. She doesn’t mean to pry but she can’t help but ask, “Are you two–”

“None of your business.” Toji cuts her off before she can even get the question out, which you’re thankful for. The answer is no, you’re not getting back together but you don’t want to talk about it. You also don’t want to talk about how overly affectionate your ex-husband is with you, and how you don’t call him out on it because you like it.

“So… How do you two feel about having a girl?” Your friend asks, and you smile, putting your hand on your bump.

“Excited. I wish for a healthy baby above all but I really want a girl.” You answer. “How about you, Toji?”

“I’m excited as well.” Toji doesn’t really sound excited though. He’s more worried, he doesn’t know how to raise a girl– But right now he keeps thinking of the baby blanket that he needs to start over. Thankfully, he didn’t get too far with it.

[sumeruin]

bad idea, right?

♫♪: pairing: toxic ex! scara x afab! reader (modern but still in universe au)

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, kind of dubcon but reader is very obviously into it, slapping, spitting, bondage, degradation, slight humiliation, toxic relationships, pet names, fingering, female anatomy but no pronouns or gendered terms used, i think that’s it but if i missed any please let me know!!

♫♪: a/n: originally meant to post this like. weeks ago lmao sorry <3

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

fuck. you don’t know why you keep doing this, if you’re being completely honest. he’s bad for you. so, horribly, unbelievably bad for you. and yet, as he sits on your couch, leaning back and propping his feet up on your coffee table like he owns the place, you don’t want to kick him out. all you wanna do is slap that stupid smirk off his face and let him fuck every single thought out of your mind.

his voice breaks you from your thoughts. “are you planning on saying anything, or am i supposed to just stare at you?” his eyes linger on your waist, following the curves of your body and leaving you feeling much too exposed for your liking.

you cross your arms over your chest defenseivly, returning his smug stare with a glare of your own. “why are you here? i thought i made it clear last time that i never wanted to see your face again.” unless it’s in between my legs, your brain adds silently, and you desperately try to shoo those thoughts away. if you start thinking about how good he is in bed, you’ll never be able to make him leave.

he clearly notices your internal struggle, raising an eyebrow and letting out a laugh that’s only slightly mocking. his condescending gaze makes your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. how does he always manage to make you feel humiliated when he’s the one who keeps crawling back? “you did, but we both know that’s not true. i bet if i looked between your legs right now you’re wet just from looking at me. you always were into the weirdest things. you found another guy willing to slap you around yet?”

your face burns at the reminder of the things you’ve asked him to do, all of them depraved and perverted in nature. from the times you’ve begged him to spit on you, to the times you’ve placed his hand on your throat and silently urged him to apply pressure while he was fucking you. it’s clear he enjoys your humiliation, a fact that only makes you more humiliated and only sends yet another pang of heat in between your legs.

“th-that’s none of your business, *scaramouche*. just- what do you want?” he flinches ever so slightly at the venomous way you say his name, and that fact that you’re calling him that at all. you never call him that, it’s always “kuni” or “scara” or some random pet name. never “scaramouche”.

after a few painfully long moments of contemplative silence, he slowly stands up and walks towards you, and you can’t help the way you reflexively lean into his touch when he grabs your chin. he chooses not to answer your question, simply tilting your head to face his as he speaks, tapping your cheek with two of his fingers. “open.”

despite your best judgment, you obey, silently opening your mouth and gazing up at him in confusion.

he simply admires the sight for a moment, then, without any kind of warning, he spits directly into your open mouth. his grip tightens on your cheeks so you can’t close your lips, and he smirks to himself as you grimace at the feeling. “you done being a bitch yet? or am i going to have to fuck it out of you?”

you glare, though he only laughs in your face at your attempt at intimidation. “you look pathetic, trying to intimidate me while my spit is sitting on your tongue and your drooling all over me like a dog. is that what you are? my pathetic, stupid little mutt? maybe i should put a leash on you. then you wouldn’t think you could leave me.”

he lets go of your cheeks, though he gives you a threatening look that promises consequences if you try to do anything other than swallow. you do, sending him another barely threatening glare as your voice comes out. “fuck off. ‘m not yours anymore.”

scara only gives you a mocking smile at your words, gripping your wrist and dragging you over to the couch before practically throwing you on the cushions. you’re suddenly thankful for that throw pillow phase you went through a few years ago. maybe celestia did have a plan besides making you waste your money.

he hovers over you, his eyes furious and his mocking smile gone, seemingly having decided to drop the faux nice facade and embrace the dominance he holds over you. his hand curls around your neck, not tight enough to choke you yet, just enough to cut off a little bit of oxygen and fill your brain with that fuzzy, soft haze. “fine. you wanna be like that, huh? i can deal with a brat.”

he yanks your pajama shorts and underwear down your legs, carelessly tossing them to a random corner of the living room before working on your shirt. he doesn’t even bother trying to take that off the right way, he simply rips the fabric down the middle and exposes your perfect tits, which he then decides to start massaging with his left hand. with his right, he takes his belt off and restrains your hands behind your back. you can’t control the moan that falls from your lips as your back arches into his touch, and you’re only a little ashamed of how desperately needy your voice sounds. “fuck, scara-!”

he grins in response, his eyes trailing from your exposed cunt to your eyes as he responds, his free hand trailing down to rub little circles against your clit. “yeah? i’m right here, doll. not going anywhere.”

scara relishes the way you jolt under his touch, body shaking as whines and mewls fall from your lips. fuck, it’s been so long. you hadn’t realized how deprived you’d been until someone was finally playing with your pussy. no one’s ever as good as scara, not since you slept with him the first time. he knows very well how much he’s ruined any other guy for you, how he’s the only one who can make you cum this hard. and he loves it.

he deems you wet enough after a few more moments of him rubbing your clit, and then he slides two of his fingers in your twitching cunt, not even bothering to take off his rings beforehand. not that you’re complaining, you both know how much you love the feeling of the metal rubbing against your insides. he notices the way you start to drift away, and lands a heavy slap to your cheek, snapping you out of the pleasure induced trace he put you in with a predatory grin. “are you trying to hide from me? you should know better.”

you can only whine in response, trying to blabber out a coherent response while on the verge of cumming your brains out all over your ex boyfriend’s fingers is much harder than it looks. all you manage is another little mewl, gazing up at him with teary eyes as you whine out the words. “not- not tryin’ to hide, kuni… p-please, need more- need- need to cum, please let me cum!”

scara only gives you another grin, clearly pleased with your performance, and he slips another finger inside you, scissoring them and making you cry out as your back arches and your legs twitch from where they’re resting on either side of his body. your moans get less coherent, but he doesn’t seem to mind. he just pulls his fingers out of your pussy and holds eye contact while licking them clean, then pulls his pants down just far enough to take his cock out. he slaps it against your clit a few times, and pats your, quickly reddening, cheek condescendingly as he speaks. “i don’t think you’ve done anything to deserve getting fucked.”

his soft pats switch to a harsh grip on your chin abruptly, and he forces your face to make eye contact with him while he continues. “why don’t you convince me, hm? tell me how sorry you are for pretending you wanted to leave me, how much you missed me. then i’ll consider it.”

scara’s grin is wicked now, staring deeply into your fucked out eyes as your face scrunches up and you start to sniffle at his denials. he’s the one who started this, why is he making you seem like the desperate one? you wouldn’t be this desperate if he had just kept his stupid hands to himself. still, though, your cunt aches from the overwhelming emptiness, little drops of slick drooling out and making a mess of your favorite blanket.

so, you obey like always, the words flowing from your lips with an ease that makes it seem like something you’ve always known, a deep rooted fact that you can’t possibly deny as you stare up at him through thick lashes with glossy eyes. “p-please, kuni, need you so bad, it hurts! i- i was wrong, wasn’t- wasn’t thinking… missed you so much, please!”

scara smiles, baring his teeth in a way that you distantly know should terrify you, but as he thrusts deeply inside you, filling you up so well with one deep stroke, you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

you aren’t sure you ever did.

[scorpiomother]

there is a light that never goes out

･ﾟ★ most of these days, i don't get too intimate / why would i let you in? but i think again

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

summary: you’ve tried to ignore the pestering infatuation you harbor for your fellow camp counselor, but when last day debauchery ensues, the lines between friendship and love blur.

tags: slow burn. summer camp. friends to lovers. pining. alcohol usage.

word count: 4.4k

a/n: mother is back and here is my love letter to the feverish bliss of a season and to everyones favorite muse, peter parker + this only took a broken laptop, nicotine and a full year to finish... so enjoy<3

playlist ☆ masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ kofi

You don’t think it’s possible to feel any warmer, but the mixture of everything is weighing in on you. The blossoming bonfire in accordance with the sultry sun. The tipsy hum in your chest. The occasional graze of Peter’s arm against your shoulder.

Sometimes you can’t bring yourself to look at him and this is one of those times.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the last day and you don’t know exactly what to do with yourself. Or it could be the muffled buzz in your chest that’s growing by the minute; telling you to do things you shouldn’t. Admit things you can’t. If you look at him for too long, you’re sure that your better judgment will fade into that tempting hum. 

You squint past the sun rays reflecting off of the lake and focus on all of the small things that don’t mean anything to you. A bottle here, a crushed can there. The flicker and burn of the fire. The new stains on your old Converse.

You search for the next best thing when a beer bottle appears, floating above your lap.

“Your turn,” Peter says.

His voice makes you want to look. It makes you want to say, huh? Then, he would have to repeat himself and you could watch the way his lips move. Instead, you murmur a soft thank you and take the bottle, eyes cemented on the shoreline.

The campers had left in the morning, and yet the feeling of childish abandonment and delight is still overflowing in the empty campgrounds. The handful of twenty-something-year-olds that stayed back for one last night to “clean up” the camp were quick to revel in the sudden freedom. By the time the last bus left with the campers and older counselors, they were already going on a liquor run and starting a bonfire on the shorelines in nothing but their swimwear. And as nice as it all was, you wish the kids were still there. They would distract you from the thoughts of Peter and now, you don’t know what to do when they come.

As you sip on the lukewarm beer, you feel eyes on you. You look up and sure enough, Peter is staring. His eyes are lighter than normal, a sheen like honey, and his expression is almost quizzical. That glint of amusement catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he smiles. “I’m just waiting for you to admit that you hate beer.”

“What?” you repeat with more confusion.

“Every time I pass you the bottle you frown.”

You furrow your brows. “No, I don’t.”

“Sure you do. And after you drink, you make a sour face,” he says plainly.

You’re about to protest when Peter reaches for the bottle and takes it from you, his hand skimming against yours in the process. 

“Creep,” you mumble. You drag your fingers along the skin that he touched and try to ignore the burn. "You’ve known me for like, what? Two months? And you think you know me like the back of your hand.”

“I wish,” he shrugs before downing the rest of the beer.

I wish. You’re biting the inside of your cheek now. “I- I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice and when you close your eyes, you can even see it. His closed mouth grin, full of satisfaction and knowing. 

Fuck. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mutter, standing up from the bench.

“‘Cause you hate beer, huh?” 

“‘Cause I’m thirsty.”

“Mhm, alright, Bug,” Peter says, smugly.

You can still feel his eyes on you as you walk towards the cooler by the dock and as much as you want to look back, you don’t.

You rummage through the cooler— a little more frantic than you should be. Beneath all the shitty beer and ice is a thick bottle of margarita mix and you pull it out in triumph. 

“Wow, going for the hard stuff, huh?”

You look up to see Harry standing in front of you with Patron in his right hand and a vape in his left. You scoff, “Says you. This shit is mostly juice anyways.”

Harry settles beside you and watches you pour yourself a cup. He smells like liquor, cologne, and bad news. 

“Make me a cup?” He slurs.

You hum in response.

You don’t trust Harry. Not for any particular reason, but he makes you unsure of yourself and you don’t like that. You fill his cup to the brim and hand it to him carefully.

“I’m surprised Peter isn’t here with you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ah, come on. You guys are two peas in a pod.”

“He’s my friend.”

“Is he though?”

“What else would he be?”

“Everyone knows you guys have a thing for each other.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, ruminating on his words. Your brain is teetering between joke or not. If he isn’t, then what? 

“Just friends,” you murmur in a way that doesn’t reach him. It sticks in the honeyed air like a mantra for yourself. 

Ever since the start of camp, Peter and you had been attached at the hips. You were both the new counselors, whereas everyone else had known each other from the year prior. During counselor orientation and the team-building exercises, you gravitated toward each other, sharing awkward laughs and stupid little comments. As the weeks went by, you got closer and closer. You had just met the guy and he was probably the closest you ever got to a person.

��So, that doesn’t bother you at all?” Harry raises a brow.

You look back and Gwen has replaced you on the bench. Peter’s looking at her with such adoration in his face that makes you feel a pang of jealousy. It spreads through your body like a fever.

His cheeks are full of warmth, laughter bellowing out from him so easily. The subtle flex of his bicep has you staring a little longer than you should. When he catches your stare, you mean to look away but the numbing heat makes you forget.

“What? No. Why would it?” You murmur, turning your attention back to Harry.

“Alright. Well, I’ll help you out. Just ‘cause it’s the last day,” Harry says before pouring an ungodly amount of Patron in your cup.

“Oh- I, um. Okay. Thank you,” you stutter. 

Harry takes his bottle and taps it to your cup. “To friends.”

“To friends,” you mumble under your breath before throwing back a couple of gulps.

Harry starts to talk about nonsense that you can no longer concentrate on. Your ears had zoned in on the laughter behind you, trying to figure out what was so funny to Peter. Have you ever made him laugh like that? 

There’s an invisible string tugging at your face, telling you to look back. Soak up the last of the daylight and the last of Peter, even if it hurts. You want to give into the compulsion, like looking at him is a tick you can’t help, but your attention falls on the dainty bumblebee fluttering innocently in the space between you and Harry.

“Oh, shit,” Harry yelps. His face is full of horror as the small thing dances around him.

“It’s just a bee,” you reassure him. 

Rather than calming down, Harry attempts to pull an ungraceful version of the matrix, bumping into you in the process. 

“Harry!” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry! I just- Fuck!” Before Harry could finish his apology, he’s running far from the docile insect and you.

“Fuckin’ Harry,” you mutter to yourself, looking at the stain of Red40 and Patron on your shirt and then to Peter.

He’s too preoccupied with Gwen to notice the mishap.

Like a small child, it hurts. The possessiveness sticks onto your skin like humidity. 

You down what’s left in your cup in one go and start walking to your cabin.

It was that second week of camp when your heart first succumbed to Peter. The two of you were on night watch and he entertained you with a game of Would You Rather while everyone else on the campgrounds slept soundly and the night insects trilled. 

Would you rather get stung by a bee or watch Isabella all by yourself? 

Give me the bee, you deadpanned.

Ouch, I’m gonna tell her what you said.

You wouldn’t, you scoffed.

You’re right, I won’t. That kid would probably start biting us both. 

One moment you’re laughing and the next, he’s whispering, wait, hold on. Stay still. So you do. You stayed as still as the night and suddenly, his hand was inching closer and closer to your face until his fingers grazed against your cheek. He held an eyelash in front of your lips and gently said, make a wish.

You hesitantly whispered a delicate oh, okay before absentmindedly blowing the eyelash away. 

I hope it was a good one, he grinned.

It was, you lied.

Everything after was hazy, with constant flashes of making a wish. If you could do it again, you would tell yourself to get a grip and not waste such a precious wish like you just did. If you could do it again, you would wish that Peter would grab that eyelash off your cheek again and again and again.

You’re already feeling the drink make its way to your head as you head on over to your cabin. You underestimated Harry’s heavy hand and the heat is working against you. Annoyingly, the wet shirt is enough to cool you down.

You wonder where the time went. It’s overwhelming to think about, especially now that you’re tipsy. Time is slipping through your fingers and you don’t know how you’re supposed to go back to the city and let this all turn into a memory— let Peter turn into a memory. 

In all honesty, you’re not so sure that you can. Eight weeks of children watching and sun soaking. Eight weeks of Peter and all of those almost kisses (two to be exact). Where was it supposed to go? In a shoebox of memories, farther away than you’d like it to be?

There’s a swelling feeling in your chest that quickly dissipates when Peter comes running behind you.

“Hey, hey, where did you go?”

You want to be spiteful and ask him what happened to Gwen. Instead, you bite your tongue.

“I’m right here, Bear,” you say.

“Well, yeah. I mean, what happened?”

“I just wanted to get something to drink and I-”

“You spilled all over yourself.”

“No, I didn’t. Harry did and I need a new shirt.”

“My cabin is right here,” he points out.

“It’s okay, I have my own clothes.”

“Bug, stop being stubborn.” He grabs your wrist, and you have no choice but to stop and look at him. The swelling returns as his brown eyes try to read you. “Trust me.”

“Okay?” 

You sigh. “Okay.”

His cabin is identical to yours. Three beds. Creaky wood all over. Light smell of mildew. You were there once before but you try not to think about it too much.

“Here, sit,” he says, patting the mattress.

Like a loyal dog, you obey quietly.

While Peter rustles through the drawers, mumbling where did I put it? you gaze at the Polaroids decorating the wall like his own personal scrapbook.

You notice one particular photo with you in it. You were setting up the projector for the first Movie Mondays. That night The Princess and the Frog played, the lights flickering green and blue on the flimsy screen that took you and Peter too long to put up. 

Oh my god, you sobbed halfway into the movie. Ray, the firefly, was singing Evangeline to his star, and it was enough to trigger an embarrassing fit out of you.

Are you crying? Peter whispered.

I’ve never wanted to be a bug so bad before, you laughed pitifully. You wrapped your arms around your legs and let the stray tears fall on your knees. You wanted to pout and blame your hysteria on Peter. He didn’t know it but he had an annoying habit of turning you into a child. 

You’re pretty when you cry, he said.

With your head on your knees, you bit your lip. You- you’re stupid.

I don’t think that’s what you say when someone gives you a compliment.

You’re making fun of me.

Am not, Bug, he said for the first time. 

With teary eyes, you looked for the truth on his face. His eyes softened. Without noticing, you licked your lips and you swore he did the same. It happened so fast you couldn’t remember and suddenly you were wondering if you leaned in, would he do the same? Before you could test your theory, there was a tap on your shoulder.

I think I just ate peanuts, Susie said.

What?

My throat is itchy.

Oh!

Luckily, little Susie was okay, but you weren’t. That night you couldn’t sleep. That look on his face stuck with you. If you were crazy, you would’ve thought that he wanted to kiss you. 

Still, you’re unsure.  

You open your mouth to ask him if he remembers that night, but he interrupts you.

 “I kind of miss them,” he says, head still in the dresser. 

“Your army of fanboys?”

“Yeah, if you want to call them that,” he laughs. 

“It was pretty sweet how they looked up to you.”

“Maybe, I should start a cult.”

You snort. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why do you hate me?” Peter looks back at you and tilts his head with a boyish smile that makes you look away.

He returns his attention to the drawers and you begin to get impatient.

“You know I don’t need anything special, right? I just need… A shirt.”

”Bug,” he says firmly. “When did you get so bratty?”

“I- You’re taking a long time,” you redden.

You tap your foot against the old wood and stare at the back of his head bobbing and searching. His hair is overgrown, longer than it was when you first met him. If you were brave enough, you would run your hands through it.

“If you think about it, we were basically paid to be cult leaders for eight weeks,” he says.

“Oh. We’re still talking about cults. Great.”

“How does one go about making a cult anyways?”

“Hold on, let me just look for a cult leader’s TED talk.”

“So sarcastic, Bug.” 

“Only for you, Bear,” you joke.  

“Good.”

Your ears turn hot and you’re licking your lips again. The raspiness in his voice feels all too serious. 

You’re silent again. It’s quiet enough you can hear the Earth past Peter’s search. Trees rustle. The wind caresses the grass. If you listen hard enough, you swear you can hear sunshine, but maybe it’s just the alcohol. Eventually another drawer shuts.

“Here,” he says. He finally turns around and stands up with a shy expression on his face that makes you smile. In his hand is a red and blue tie dye shirt he made in the early weeks of camp.

When you reach for it, you zone in on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, a silly little nothing that you made for him a week ago. You might as well have threaded the beads to say IHAVEACRUSHONYOU, but the nickname you called him was safer.

You partially regret the bracelet as the cringey gift screams elementary innocence, but now you had something of his. You were even.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you outside.”

“It’s fine,” you say before you can think. “I mean it’ll only take three seconds. You’ve seen me without a shirt before, hah.”

“Someone’s drunk,” he chuckles. 

You turn away before he can see you blush. “Not really…”

In one swift motion, you sling off the stained shirt and drape it along the end of his bed frame and pick up Peter’s replacement shirt.

“Oh, it’s healing nicely,” Peter says, surprised.

You look back in an attempt to look at the once opened wound on your back. “Thanks to you, I guess.”

Due to peer pressure from freshly graduated fourth graders, you had jumped off the cliff right into the lake and your back grazed against a submerged rock. It wasn’t anything serious. Barely deep enough for medical attention and the adrenaline from the jump turned you numb.

It was the first time he touched you, really touched you. A deliberate palm to your side rather than an unintentional graze of the knuckles. It made you think of other ways you could hurt yourself just so the two of you could play an innocent game of doctor.

I can’t just drink this by myself, you whined. 

I’m about to put a needle through you, you really want me to drink alcohol right now?

I trust you, you admitted unwillingly.

Once he stitched you up, you sat together side by side on his bed with your shirt still over your neck and your bathing suit now cold on your skin. He pressed his hand on your thigh, saying all better. It was enough to warm you up. Enough to make you forget why you never kissed him. Enough to make you want to.

He squeezed the fleshy part of your thigh, and you exhaled. Peter.

It’s Dr. Parker to you.

One moment you’re whispering, stupid, and the next your nose was grazing his with two parting lips just barely touching. His own breath matched yours. Cinnamon, and booze. Warm and wanting. You gently nudged your nose against his before you could come to.

With lips hovering and agape and adrenaline clouding your mind, you thought he was about to kiss you, for sure this time. But when Gwen knocked on the door, calling out to Peter, kissing was the last thing you wanted to do. The only option was to run away. Run back into that lake and sink all the way to the bottom.

When you throw the shirt on, the fabric grazes against the healing scar. The cotton is soft and weightless. You could immediately smell the familiar evergreen and pine. 

“Red and blue look good on you,” Peter says and you have to force yourself to not think anything of it. Friends compliment each other. No big deal.

“You should keep it,” he adds and then you’re thinking, okay, kind of a big deal. But you don’t have it in you to protest. If this was the only thing you could get from Peter, then you were happy. Almost satisfied.

“Alright,” you say and wear it like a promise ring.

By the time you two make it back to the lake, the sun is nearly set. The bonfire melts into the fire in the sky, a burnt orange streak floating above the lake. Smoke and char wafts in the air and you notice everyone huddled up in a circle. There’s beer bottles surrounding them like they were partaking in some kind of ritual. As you get closer, you see the single bottle laying on its side in the middle of the crowd. 

“What are they, twelve?” Peter whispers as Flash and Felicia kiss.

They don’t notice you two. They’re far too gone and enamored to see beyond themselves, and you’re grateful. Being the bystander looking in was better than watching Peter kiss someone else.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” he nudges.

You nod your head in silence and follow him like a lost puppy.

You two keep to the lakeshore and walk side by side until you can barely see the stray embers of the bonfire in the air. 

A mile away, you eventually reach the west pier. It’s unsoiled with beer and degeneracy, the moon purifying the fresh water and wood. The two of you sit on the dock, feet dangling in the chilling water. By the time the night completely glossed over, the alcohol had too.

“It’s so… Quiet,” you say and suddenly you fear your voice may disturb the stillness and ripple through the water. 

“I like it.”

“Just kind of eerie, ya know?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll scare the monsters away for you,” he teases.

Peter places one hand on your back and rubs small circles, a new type of warmth now rippling through you. 

Without realizing it, you began to mindlessly kick your feet through the lake, ripples after ripples reaching out to touch the earth beyond. The wrinkles of water pulsate. Your heart does the same with each circle of his hand.

“Should’ve got another beer before we left,” you eventually murmur.

“I’m not fun enough for you?”

I just don’t know what to do with myself.

“You’re less fun without your little cult,” you tell him. 

“I’m retiring,” he tells you.

“Oh, God forbid.”

“I’m tired,” he says. “Let me be tired.”

When he lays his head in your lap, you don’t move. You barely breathe.

You wish you could feel the calm, shudder and move on, exhale the hummingbird out of your chest, and be done with it. 

It’s heavier than you can manage. The ease and calm of him scares you. He makes a home in you so terribly easy, and you can barely touch him without feeling dizzy.

Peter sighs. “What am I going to do without you, Bug?”

You wish he didn’t say things like that.

You get out a shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you do know. Peter’s going to be okay without you. You’ll just be some girl he used to know and move on just fine. But you on the other hand? You don’t know. You don’t want to.

It aches.

I’m tired. Let me be tired, you beg the cruel universe.

It twinkles in response. Ripples right through you. 

Your hands are in his hair. You’re dizzy, but you do it anyway. There’s a soft moan coming from Peter so you play and pull and tug, letting all the anxiety leave your hands like kneading dough. You’re gentle because Peter is gentle. Rubbing your back. Stitching up a silly mistake. And even breaking your heart. He does it so gently, you don’t know if he has a cruel bone in his body. Even if he was cruel, you’re not sure if it would offend you.

He closes his eyes. You drag your nails against his temple and roam freely. The night sky reminds you of fireflies and popcorn. Slow breaths and wishes. You count the dimples on the moon. Little distractions to ground you, even now. 

The moment feels infinite. Almost infinite, like those almost kisses. So close, yet so fleeting. You stop trying to make it stay. You let it ripple through you.

You feel a little brave.

“Let’s go swimming,” he says, eyes closed. He can smell it on you— the braveness, you think.

Your hands freeze.“Now?”

“When else?”

“It’s cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm, Bug,” he says, this time with his brown eyes wide, open, and tempting. “Trust.”

He stands up and holds his hand out for you before you can protest. Whenever he mentions trust, it does something to you. The cut above your shoulder blade is trust scarred onto your body. Were you supposed to stray from your habits now? On the last day?

You open your mouth but then your hand is in his and he’s guiding you to the obsidian. 

He takes off his shirt and shorts, throwing them on the dock. You follow suit, and by the time you fold the tie dye shirt into a neat square, Peter’s already in, yelping, laughing, coaxing.

You shiver and when you’re in the water, you shiver some more. 

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“Is this your big plan to murder me? Drown me and run back to everyone else and play spin the bottle?” you grumble, less than satisfied.

“Duh,” he smiles proudly.

You’re treading water, feet barely reaching the sand, while Peter stands tall, the moon illuminating his handsome face.

“Why didn’t you wanna play spin the bottle?” you say impulsively. 

It shocks both you and Peter.

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

His brows knit together. “I don’t want to see you kissing someone else.”

Your brain short circuits. A laugh coils in your stomach and you want to ask if Ashton Kutcher is going to come out of the woods with his crew and yell, Gotcha! It makes more sense than what you think he’s implying. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

“What do you want it to mean?”

Your limbs suddenly burn from trying to stay afloat.

“Do you need me to show you, bug?” he says.

His hand is out in front of you again like a life raft. You let him take you, pull you in his gravity. Show me. You glide in the water until you can feel Peter’s breath on your face and your chest is heaving against his. Show me.

Peter wraps his arm around your lower back and your legs have nowhere else to go but wrapped around him. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Still need me to show you?”

 Show me. Show me. Show me.

“I think so,” you say so delicately you’re not so sure he hears you, but then his lips are on yours and the sun comes back in the dead of night, blooming in your ribcage.

It happens fast. He doesn’t let you hesitate, retreat back like the scared creature you are. He knows you. He kisses like he knows you. He keeps his promise. I’ll keep you warm. 

Soft, tender, and close to loving. His lips overlap yours and your gripping onto his back like this moment could dissolve in this lake. He grips you right back like you’ll run. You could. You might.

He deepens the kiss, more want, more need, less tenderness. He sucks on your bottom lip and the strength to run right out of you. 

Your hands wander feverishly. From his back to the crook of his neck and then his hair.

Now that he has you here like this, it makes things more difficult. 

You feel like a firefly. This small little thing of shine and glow, jutting around in a mason jar with Peter’s name sharpied on the top. 

His lips linger for a second longer and then he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“Bug,” Peter says.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to call me, right?”

His lips move in slow motion.

“Right,” you say.

[kybercrystals94]

Just a few things in Season 3 Episode 5 that I can’t stop thinking about…

[spoilers below cut]

The way Crosshair treats Omega like a peer.

This is so different from the way Wrecker, Echo, Tech, but specifically Hunter, ever treated Omega. To them, she’s still the little girl they rescued off Kamino. They know they’ve trained her to be capable; however, it is hard to separate their guileless little sister from the little warrior she’s become both with their squad and during her captivity on Tantiss.

Crosshair never knew or cared about little Omega, the child who’d never seen dirt before.

He’s only ever known and cared about this Omega. The Omega that insisted on building a relationship with him in spite of his trying to push her away for her own good. The Omega who refused to leave him behind at risk to herself. The Omega who can hold her own alongside him during a firefight. The Omega who can fly ships, bribe, and swindle. Crosshair has only known this Omega. Why would he treat her as anything but capable? He will absolutely protect her and have her back, but he will not doubt her abilities.

That’s not to say that the others doubt her abilities. I think they absolutely know what Omega is capable of, but that innate desire to protect the little thing she was has not dissolved just because Omega has grown…which is so true of real life. It’s authentic, and it's difficult and messy. And I love that the show is tackling this.

I also love that Crosshair knows this too. “Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you,” he gently advises.

Which leads me into how I viewed Hunter’s behavior in Episode 5…

He doesn’t trust Crosshair. Why would he? The last time they interacted, Crosshair tried to force them to join the Empire of his own volition. He tried to have Omega forcibly removed from their protection. He chose the Empire over them. And then, they find out that Crosshair became a prisoner of the Empire, and their attempt to rescue Crosshair from his own choices resulted in Tech’s death and Omega’s capture. On top of that, what exactly did Crosshair do to get on the Empire’s bad side? Hunter doesn’t know. And Crosshair isn’t volunteering the information.

I also saw a bit of jealousy on Hunter’s part (although he probably doesn’t recognize it). While we as viewers know that Omega is trying to support Crosshair with his emotional and physical trauma, as well as getting him to communicate with Hunter and Wrecker. On the outside, Omega and Crosshair are almost inseparable, Omega seeking out Crosshair’s companionship (the brother that initiated a lot of the Batch’s heartbreak) rather than the brothers who have taken care of her all along. Gotta admit, I’d be pretty hurt by that too. Again, not at all Omega’s intent or fault that he feels this way, but it would be confusing and hurtful nonetheless.

Crosshair also senses this jealousy. (“Oh, don’t pretend like this is all about me…You’re angry because she escaped with my help, not yours.”) What Hunter doesn’t know is that Crosshair has supported Omega and Hunter’s relationship, not undermined it.

I really appreciated how Crosshair - while hurt by Hunter’s mistrust - does his best to prove himself trustworthy again (although hidden behind typical Crosshair snark). He’s broken his brothers’ trust, and he knows it has to be earned back.

Wrecker runs to hug Hunter and Crosshair after they make it back safely.

Wrecker is the only one of the Batch (besides Crosshair, obviously) who has been on both sides of the chip. He understands Hunter’s perspective and trepidation towards Crosshair; however, he also understands the guilt and fear that comes after being under the chip’s influence and nearly killing your family. While he was also confused and hurt by Crosshiar’s actions after the chip, Wrecker trusts Omega’s judgment. If Omega feels that Crosshair has changed, then Wrecker is not going to question it.

But he’s not going to pressure Hunter to the same conclusion, and he’s been Hunter’s support system for so long–and obviously, Crosshair already has a support system in Omega. Wrecker is going to let Hunter take the time he needs to trust Crosshair on his own terms…and I love that!

I felt that when Wrecker saw them coming back, he could tell they had worked out some of their hard feelings toward one another…and he was thrilled! That hug was more than just happy they made it back safe from facing a monster, but that they are on the path to making amends. Their family is healing. Not healed. There’s still hurts and wounds to work through, but healing.

And the way he embraces his two sullen brothers, smooshing them together so that they are also hugging each other by association…made me smile so big!

The way Echo acts as mediator between Hunter and Crosshair. (Also…ECHO FINALLY SHOWS UP!!)

Omega and Wrecker have been struggling trying to support both brothers while they work through their issues, and then there’s Echo saying, “You can kill each other later…focus!” Echo gets it. He knows they need to work things out on their own terms, in their own time. But first…mission!

Also, I loved how civilly he treats Crosshair when they meet again. Crosshair is 100% ready to receive a negative reaction, and when Echo simply snarks back at him like the good ol’ days, Crosshair is visibly surprised. Even Omega looks happy to see the positive interaction.

When Omega expresses how she wishes she could have done more for the other clones on Tantiss, Echo tells her she did the right thing escaping and getting the information she could to him and Rex…he is such a good and encouraging older brother! I love him!

Special mention goes to Crosshair and Batcher being buddies! The way Crosshair pats and pets her when Batcher comes up to him after they rescue Hunter out of the snow. And then Batcher plops down beside him and Crosshair keeps petting her. My little heart!

[sinofwriting]

Causing Problems - Max Verstappen

Words: 2,365 Summary: After learning about his girlfriends first time, it’s safe to say that Max is not happy. Note(s)/Warnings: Leclerc!Reader, Talks of Sex/Losing Virginity. Mentions/Talks of Underage Sex. Past Pierre/Reader. Also there is french here, didn’t use google translate, but still used a translator, so sorry if any of it’s wrong.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Don’t judge me.” His brows raise and he can’t help but smile. “What could I ever judge?” She shoots him a disbelieving look, but sighs. “I was fourteen.” His eyes widened. “See judge!” He shakes his head, “no, no. No judgment, just,” he pauses unsure how to phrase it. “Lorenzo and Charles let you have a boyfriend at fourteen?” She snorts, ten years had passed and the two and now Arthur wrinkled their nose at the idea of her with a boy. They were somewhat fond of her and Max together. “No, I,” she pauses, feeling herself get a little flustered as she thinks about who and how she lost her virginity.

“It was a friend.” Her voice is a little fond, but she squeezes Max’s hand letting him know it’s not the person she’s fond of but rather just the memory. Her eyes flicker upwards to meet the Dutch’s eyes. Seeing how warm they are and his earnest nod to continue, she does.

“We were in France for a race.” She squeezes his hand again, “you won that one.” She tells him, smiling at his eyes crinkling at her pause. “We decided to stay with his family for the night instead of at the racetrack or just driving home. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go down to the basement, hoping to wear myself out by uh,” she pauses trying to think of the word in English. “Pacing?” He offers, having seen her do it a few times. She nods, smiling wide. “Yes, pacing. But when I got there, he was also there unable to sleep. We talked for a bit and then things got a bit tense and we ended up having sex.” She shrugs, with a little laugh. “It was a little odd since we both hadn’t done it before. But it was good.” “Did you orgasm?” He can’t help but ask. “Surprisingly, yes.” A flare of jealousy hits him at the knowledge that some fourteen year old kid got a girl off his first time having sex, while he didn’t when he was eighteen. But it leaves just as quickly as it came, shock replacing it with her next words. “But after all the French are known for being generous lovers and Pierre is quite French, no?” She laughs. “Pierre?” He asks, brain struggling to comprehend what she said. “Yes, Pierre.”

The confirmation makes him a blink and god he can’t believe the balls on the French driver. Charles was insanely overprotective. Then again, if Charles had any idea what his best friend and little sister had done he wouldn’t be alive but at the bottom of the river.

Then a thought strikes him, Pierre and her weren’t not the same age. A fourteen year old virgin didn’t make her cum but rather a seventeen year old one and suddenly anger is boiling in his stomach.

“He was seventeen.” His voice is surprisingly blank. “Yes, Pierre is three years older than me.” She looks at him, worryingly. “Max, are you okay?”

—

“Gasly!” The frenchman’s head jerks to the left at the sound of his last name in such anger. He stares wide eyed at the dutch driver. His jaw was twitching, face red, and fists clenched. He had only seen Max this angry a couple of times before but never was it directed at him. “Max.” He ends up saying, eyes flickering around the room. Hoping that Charles, Daniel, Lando, Alex, or George know what’s going on, but they all look just as confused. His eyes catch on Y/N, who's looking at Max with wide eyes of her own. “Fourteen.” The word is gritted out and Pierre’s eyes are back on him, more confusion filling him. “What?”

He couldn’t think of anything that would make Max this mad involving the number fourteen. Lap fourteen had been fine this race. They hadn’t yet gotten to race fourteen of the season. It couldn’t be the year 2014, they didn’t have any contact that year.

“Fourteen.” Max repeats, putting a weird emphasis on the word as it comes out quieter than before. Pierre’s eyes flicker to the only girl in the room, hoping she’ll know what it’s about and when his eyes move to look at her it hits him and his eyes are moving back to Max. Understanding him. “Oh, fourteen.” “Yes,” the Dutch driver’s jaw twitches again. “Fourteen.”

He can’t help but glance around the room taking in how the other guys are still looking at Max and now him in confusion. He notes that Charles has gotten up, clearly ready to interfere. Get in between them if it comes down to it. And Pierre winces. There would be no getting out of this. He’d have to come clean and perhaps lose Charles’ friendship forever.

“Would you like to hit me and then talk? Or talk and then hit me?” He offers Max, figuring that no matter what he’d end the night with some bruises. Suddenly she’s standing in between them, gently resting a hand on Max’s chest. “There won’t be any hitting. Words only.” She tells Max, her eyes flickering to her brother as she says it. His expression of confusion only deepened at the words also directed towards him as he sat back down.

She pushes Max to sit down on the floor next to Daniel and a space between him and Charles where she would sit in a moment. She turns to face Pierre.

“Je suis désolé, pierre.” I’m so sorry, Pierre. She apologizes, twisting her fingers together in a way that makes him wince. He shakes his head, standing and maybe he shouldn’t but he pulls her into a hug. Keeping his hands clearly in Max’s sight. There was no need to make him any madder. “Non, bébé calmar. Tu ne t'excuses pas. C'est bien.” No, baby squid. You don't apologize. It's fine. He pulls away from her, giving her hand a squeeze before taking a step back. “C'est à vous de partager.” It is for you to share. “Ce n'est pas seulement le mien.” It is not just mine. He shakes his head, had he hoped that Charles would never know, yes. But he had always known that one day he’d find out. He could only be happy that he got a decade more of his friendship. “C'était toujours le tien.” It was always yours. She looks like she is going to argue more and he expects her to. It was such a Leclerc thing to do, argue until you got your way. But she doesn’t. She gives him another sorry look before sitting in between Max and Charles. Ignoring the soft nudge that her brother gives her.

“Max,” Pierre starts to say, but stops not sure what to say, what to do. Did the younger driver want an apology? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t something he could apologize to Max for. The only person he really could offer an apology to was Charles and that was only for not telling him sooner.

Pierre and Y/N had spoken about it after it happened. It wasn’t something they could really ignore or pretend didn’t happen. They had even spoken about it a little over a year ago when Kika had found out. Kika made a joke about it as they all went for dinner, a little wine drunk, but hoping to see Pierre get a little flustered. He nearly smiles at the thought of Kika. She really was amazing, far better than he deserved, and her easy acceptance of what happened between them when they were so young.

“Fourteen, Pierre. She was fourteen.” Max’s voice draws him out of his thoughts. “Yes, and I was seventeen.” His acknowledgement makes Max wince and he catches Alex’s wide eyes and knows that he’s realized what this about or at least has a good idea of it. “And you just,” Max starts, before shaking his head. “That was fine with you?” “I wouldn’t do it again, if that’s what you are asking.” Pierre sighs when Max’s expression doesn’t change. “Max, your issue with this is the age difference. And I imagine it’s worse because of Kika, yes?” Max nods. He presses his lips together, murmuring to himself in french under his breath. “I never intended for it to happen, Max. We were kids. Me less so, but still young, foolish.”

“What happened?” Charles speaks for the first time, looking between Pierre and Max. “What happened when you were seventeen?” Pierre sighs, but before he can speak, she does. “Charles, do you remember when you were fifteen, we went to that race in France and we stayed with Pierre’s family for the night?” He nods after a second. “Yes, Papa didn’t want to stay at the track or drive home that night.” “I couldn’t sleep that night, so I went down to the basement so I could pace.” “You still do that.” Charles interrupts her, the words fond. “Yes. But Pierre was also there, he couldn’t sleep either. We ended up talking.” Charles nods, because yes that made sense. She didn’t like pacing if someone else was in the room and awake. Would rather talk until she fell asleep. “Pierre and I,” she pauses before slipping into french. “nous avons fait l'amour.” we had sex. “Non.” No. His mouth is open, disbelief in his eyes. “Non. Vous deux ne l'avez pas fait.” No. You two did not. “Charles,” she lays a hand on his arm. “We did. It was in the moment and never happened again.” “But you were so young. Just a baby.” His face is horrified and everyone in the room knows now what Max bursting in was about. Her brows furrow. “I was not a baby. I was fourteen.” Charles makes a pained noise and then his attention turns to Pierre, a fire in his eyes.

“You!” He points at Pierre. “How could you! She’s my sister. My baby sister!” He puts his hands up. “We didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I went down to the basement to watch tv because I couldn’t sleep. Not to have sex for the first time with your sister.” His fists clench, wanting to say something more, but unable to say anything but, “Je suis désolé, Charles. J'aurais dû,” I'm sorry, Charles. I should have, “Non.” Charles shakes his head, stopping him. “I don’t want to hear it. You should have told me sooner. Not wait so long. I need time. She was a baby, Pierre.” He says the last sentence quietly and Pierre knows that his insistence makes no sense to her or the rest of the people in the room, but he understands.

He had been the one to hold Charles after his father made him promise to always take care of her, to watch over her, to protect her. Had cemented that she was his baby sister, she needed protection, to Charles. Had promised to help Charles with that promise.

“I need time, Calamar.” His voice is gentle, but there's a raw element to it. “Of course, Charles.” As he stands to look around the room, he has to look away at the different looks some of the drivers give him. Moving out of the weird sort of circle the driver’s had formed when they first entered Charles’ room hours ago, he stops just before the entryway.

“Y/N if,” “I know, Pierre.” She stops him before he can continue, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Give Kika my love.” He huffs out a laugh. “Of course.” And with that he slips out of the room.

—

“Are you better, Max?” She asks, when nearly an hour later they are back in his hotel room, a glass of wine in her hand. He winces, “I’m sorry. My anger got the better of me.” She nods, lips pressing together. A little embarrassment still lingering inside of her. It wasn’t Lando, Daniel, Alex, or George knowing. It was Charles. It was her older brother, her closest brother. She had never wanted Charles to know that much about her and Pierre. She knew just like Pierre even if they had hoped it wouldn’t come out, that it would. She had just figured it would come out that yes, they had sex together. It was one time, maybe that they were each other's firsts but that was it.

She didn’t want him to know that it was in France. After a race, in Pierre’s home. She especially didn’t want him to know that she had been fourteen. It made her shrink a little, knowing that he knew that. And yet she didn’t hate Max for letting that loose. She was a little angry with him, but it was her own fault. She should have never been so careless to let it slip that it was Pierre when he was close by. Should have waited for summer break, when they were in completely different countries.

“I’m angry with you.” She was not going to hide that. “I didn’t want Charles to know that. All of that. Pierre and I figured that at some point it would come out, but he was not supposed to know all of that.” “I’m sorry.” He apologizes again. “I,” he pauses. “My temper, it needs to be worked on.” She nods again, “You are better than before. You’ve grown much since.” She sighs, placing the glass down and turning to look at him. “I should have waited until summer break.” He shakes his head, “no, this was all me. And I’ll apologize to Pierre as well.” He looks a little pained at the thought. “Good. He deserves one.” “Yes, he does.”

She looks at him, taking in the regretful expression on his face. The way his body is slightly curled in. Grabbing her glass of wine, she tosses the rest of the glass back, before setting it back down and taking her shirt off.

“I’m going to take a shower.” She tells him, thumbs pressing between her skin and her pants as she starts to take them off. “You’re going to join me.” “I am?” She raises an eyebrow. “I am.” Max nods, eyes wide as he watches her completely strip. “Good. Hurry. It’ll be cold without you.” She tells him, before walking to the bathroom, the door slightly closed behind her as the sound of the shower fills the room.

---

Tagging: @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

[frvnkcastles]

WILL YOU LOVE ME FOREVER ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re feeling insecure and Frank wants to reassure you.

Warnings: Body image issues, weight gain, feminine nicknames, fluff, language

Word count: 900

Author’s note: I haven’t posted anything in a hot minute because university is keeping me SO busy but I’ve been feeling a little down about my weight lately so I decided to write a little something about it. I gained a lot of weight after I started antipsychotics and even though they probably saved my life I really wish I had my old body. Maybe some day. Anyway, I know for a fact that Frank would be accepting of all bodies and not give a fuck about weight. <3

A frown was set heavy on your face as you stared at your reflection in the full-body mirror in your bedroom, your hands gliding down your figure as you assessed the situation. You had just gotten out of a shower and started dressing up, but you hadn’t made it past your underwear when you had caught a glimpse in the mirror and felt something dreadful and anxious weigh down on your chest.

Frank noticed quick enough — he was on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in his hands, but as minutes ticked by with you spinning back and forth in front of the mirror, his attention drifted from the words on the pages and over to you. He saw the downcast look on your face, the tension in your knitted eyebrows and the incessant picking at your limbs, as if they’d change eventually.

”You okay, sweetheart?” he cleared his throat, and flinching, you snapped out of your thoughts and gave him a guilty look.

”Oh, yeah”, you mumbled with heat slithering into your cheeks because of being caught. Still, as you moved back to your closet to dig around for a shirt, Frank didn’t return to his book but kept his eyes glued on you, and you could feel his gaze even with your back turned to him. It made you feel all the more insecure, and quietly, you spoke up. ”Stop staring, Frank.”

With a low chuckle, he put his book on the bedside table and inched his frame to the very edge of the bed so he was closer to you. ”I can’t look at my girlfriend?” he hummed, and with a slight scoff, you continued to look for a top, but nothing felt right.

”I dunno what you find so worth looking at”, you argued against your better judgment, knowing very well that Frank wasn’t going to ignore your self-conscious comment.

His heart broke a little, in fact. ”Hey”, he spoke gruffly, forcing you to stop rummaging through your closet, and begrudgingly, you turned around to face him. ”Where’s this comin’ from, huh? Talk to me”, he encouraged, his dark eyes full of worry, even more so when you subconsciously brought your hands in front of you to hide your body from his attention.

”You don’t have to act like you haven’t noticed”, you muttered, but he only stared at you in confusion, earning a frustrated sigh from you. ”I’ve gained a lot of weight, Frank. It’s obvious”, you gestured at your body with a sad look deep in your eyes, before folding your arms in front of yourself again to hide your stomach from him.

Frowning, Frank pulled at your arms to unravel them and allow him to take your hands in his. ”It ain’t a bad thing, sweetheart. You’re still just as beautiful as ever”, he pointed out, but he could tell you didn’t believe him.

”I already feel like you’re so out of my league, and now this…”, you added quietly, casting a look down at your conjoined hands to avoid his eyes piercing into yours.

At your words, though, he couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. ”Out of your league? You gotta know that ain’t true, pretty girl. You’re gorgeous, everythin’ ’bout you. And you really think I care about your weight? C’mon, sweetheart, you know me better than that”, he insisted, trying to tilt his head low so he could catch your gaze.

You didn’t seem convinced, so with a sigh, he reached for your hips and pulled you in closer. ”Hey, I mean it. I wouldn’t change a thing ’bout you. I love you. I love your body. You’re sexy as hell, darlin’. But you’re also soft and lovely in all the right ways and I—I can’t get enough of ya”, Frank rambled away, his grip on you tightening as he admired you from head to toe.

”Thank you”, you whispered before turning back to the mirror and trying to see yourself in a more positive light. Frank didn’t hesitate to stand up behind you, his figure hovering above yours as he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head.

”My gorgeous girl. Could look at you all day. Shit, you make me feel things I hadn’t in a long time, y’know that? You’re so much more than a number on the scale. That shit don’t matter. I love all of this”, he went on, running his hands across your belly and your thighs before settling back on your hips.

”If you didn’t have to go to work, I’d take my time and show you just how much I’preciate you”, he spoke lowly in your ear, the timber of his voice sending a shiver down your spine, and noticing, Frank broke into a grin. He kissed your temple and you finally cracked a smile of your own, making him feel successful in his mission to make you feel better.

”Thanks, Frankie. I love you”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank spun you around so he could tip your jaw up and lean down to kiss you tenderly. His lips met yours and you let your eyes fall shut as he kissed the air out of your lungs, always so dizzying and enchanting.

”I love you too, sweetheart. And when you get home tonight, I’mma make sure you know just how much.”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Jan behind the cut; project sidekick. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Did you do it on purpose?” Wonder Woman asks neutrally, no expectation or judgment in the question either way. Superboy feels naked and bare and stripped bound by her lasso, and answering hurts. 

It’s the answer he would’ve given anyway, but it still hurts. 

“No,” he says.

“Did you know the other clones were not the true Aqualad, Robin, and Kid Flash?” Wonder Woman asks. 

“No,” he says again. It still hurts. 

“Did you in any way, through action or inaction, knowingly leave Aqualad, Robin, and Kid Flash trapped in Cadmus?” Wonder Woman asks, and the question hurts a lot worse than her lasso. 

“No,” Superboy says roughly, his hands curling into fists on his thighs and the word stabbing through his throat. All he can think of is Kaldur–Aqualad, because that’s not the boy who told them his name and it's not right to call him a name he didn't share–all he can think of is Aqualad speaking to him down in the dark underground halls of Cadmus, offering him absolution, escape, life. Robin and Kid Flash offering him the sun and the moon, reality in three dimensions and not just playground simulations of it. 

They'd wanted to save him. They'd been trying to save him. 

And he'd left all three of them down there in the dark. 

His hands tremble, just once, and Wonder Woman lets the lasso go slack and fall away. 

Superboy tells himself he’s grateful it was just the lasso. It could’ve been Martian Manhunter filling up his head with someone else’s mind, like Cadmus again. 

Except he doesn’t have the right to be grateful for that. 

He deserves for it to have been Martian Manhunter. He deserves for it to have been as bad as Cadmus; he deserves for it to have been worse than Cadmus. He left Aqualad and Robin and Kid Flash all down there, and he went out to the real world without them, and he doesn’t know what was even happening to them. Just . . . sedation, all this time? Just stasis? 

They didn’t even dream, probably. 

Superboy at least got to dream, if nothing else. Dream lies, but . . . 

It’s no damn wonder Superman doesn’t want to help him with his powers or even talk to or look at him, though, because if anyone in there should’ve realized what’d happened–because if he just hadn’t let himself be manipulated and controlled to begin with– 

Black Canary squeezes his shoulder, and Superboy grimaces and drops his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice tight and fingers just barely digging into his thighs. As much as he trusts them to, anyway, without knowing what’ll bruise or bleed. “I didn’t–I thought–we wouldn’t have left them. Not if we’d known. We would’ve found them.” 

Wonder Woman frowns, briefly, and Superboy braces himself for the condemnation, the blame, the– 

“‘We’?” she asks, and he frowns too, a little confused. He doesn’t understand what she’s asking. 

“The four of us,” he says, because he can’t figure out what else she might mean. “We wouldn’t have left them.” 

“Wait,” Wonder Woman says, her expression turning a little strange. “You would have taken all six–” And then she stops, and shakes her head, and starts winding up her lasso. “Of course you would have,” she murmurs.

Superboy wishes that weren’t a question. No one would ever ask Superman that question. No one would ever ask Superman any of the questions Wonder Woman just asked him, lasso or not.

No one would even think to.

“Can I talk to Aqualad and Robin and Kid Flash? If they . . . don’t mind,” he says uncomfortably. Uncomfortable both because Wonder Woman thought of that question, and because he's using those names for people who aren’t the same people he’s actually been calling those names for . . . well, his entire life, give or take about ten or fifteen minutes. But they didn’t tell him anything else he could call them, so–and they’re their names, anyway. “And Artemis and Miss Martian want to see my brothers.” 

Wonder Woman pauses in the middle of winding up the last loop of her lasso, and Black Canary–blinks, very slowly, and glances at him. 

“‘Brothers’?” she repeats, and her voice is careful in a way Superboy doesn’t understand.

[bobgasm]

oral technique | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 1348 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], oral sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), bob’s a virgin in this

summary: in which you teach bob how to give head

author’s note:

oneshot | masterlist | ao3

You felt a warmth flourish in the pit of your stomach. “If you want to learn, I can always teach you.”

You lay across the couch, legs in Bob’s lap, a hand of his resting above your knee, the other draped over the back of the couch. A light dusting of colour tainted his cheeks as he looked towards you, embarrassed by what he’d just confessed, and what you’d just proposed. You felt your chest start to rise and fall rapidly, watching the internal conflict he was having with himself as he let his emotions show on his face. A frown turning into what could have been a smirk before he cleared his throat and composed himself.

You could only assume this was how he had been raised, internalizing any and all emotions. He was how men had been raised to be for decades, but slowly you were trying to teach him that he could tell you anything without any judgment. That you wouldn’t reveal to anyone his secrets or make fun of him. Talking to you was a safe space.

And tonight was one of those nights where you had acknowledged the feelings that you had towards each other. Flirting heavily and touching each other as frequently as possible. You can’t remember how you got onto the topic, but hearing that he’d never been down on a woman, let alone been with one, sent your mind into overdrive. There was so much you wanted to teach him, that you didn’t think twice about asking if he wanted to learn.

“I…like you’d give me pointers?” He asked, the hand he had resting on your leg subconsciously sliding further up.

“Like, I’d show you,” you replied, placing your hand over his and stopping it from moving. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable and there was no pressure for him to agree, and making sure his hand stopped where it did was vital. You were turned on and if he asked you innocent questions while his hands had a mind of their own, you’d be in a different situation.

“Show me on what?”

“Me.” The confusion on his face almost broke you. “I’d tell you what to do as you did it,” you elaborated and he nodded slowly.

“What would be the best position to…? What would give me a better angle?”

“If you got on the ground,” you said, your head spinning as he slid onto the floor and sat back on his knees, watching you spin around so that you were facing him. Your legs parted slightly. “God, are you sure, Bob?”

“I’m sure.” He looked up at you with lust-blown pupils. The intensity and sincerity of his eyes made you melt as he placed his hands on your knees and spread your legs so he could settle himself in between them.

You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sweats and lifted your hips, only to have his hands replace your own as he removed your pants. His touch searing your skin and making you crave him even more. His hands made quick work of discarding your sweats as you scooted yourself forward so you were half off the couch, feeling so exposed as you set your feet on the ground, legs spread wide and your crotch level with his eyes.

“So do I just…go for it?” He asked and you released a nervous laugh.

“Kiss my thighs,” you instructed him. “You want to build up the anticipation. She’s already going to be wet and wanting you, but you want to tease her. Turn her into putty in your hands…or mouth.”

Bob kissed your thighs as instructed, but left quick pecks rather than sloppy kisses. He was clearly as nervous as you.

“Don’t be afraid to be sloppy,” you told him and he looked up at you, holding your gaze as he licked from your inner mid-thigh to hip. Tongue tantalizingly close to where you desperately wanted him. “Mm, yeah,” you encouraged breathily, running your fingers through his hair. “Most women don’t like visible hickeys, but it’ll drive her crazy if there are ones only she knows about. Like over her breast or hip.”

He got the hint and began nipping at your skin, sucking a bruise into your hip as you arched into his touch. Needing him to touch you more than he already was.

“Play with her while you tease her,” you said, unsure as to how you were still able to form coherent sentences. “Give her a finger to suck on or play with her breasts.”

You closed your eyes and felt a finger trace over your bottom lip. Your mouth opened instinctively as you welcomely sucked the digit. His mouth left sloppy kisses over your lower abdomen.

You moaned around his finger and grabbed his wrist, removing it from your mouth when it was nice and wet. Guiding his hand down between your thighs and teasing your clit with his finger.

“When you go down on a girl you always pay special attention to this little nub,” you said, opening your eyes as his mouth left your stomach. Finding his gaze where you were teasing yourself with his finger. “The clitoris will always be your best friend in pleasuring a woman.”

“I’m so fucking hard,” he cursed, barely speaking above a whisper.

“Good,” you said, groaning as he slipped his finger lower, barely able to restrain yourself from taking him into my warmth. Knowing his finger alone would feel good.

God, there had been nights where you had fantasized about what his hands could do to you, and now one of those fantasies was coming true. Even if you had to teach him.

“Bob.” you moaned. “Fuck, I need your mouth. Lick up my slit.”

You let go of his hand so you could guide his head to where you needed his mouth. Your hands wound tightly into his hair, legs struggling to stay open as you felt the heat of his tongue against your core. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as he tasted you and let a gloriously loud moan vibrate against your center.

“Oh, holy fuck,” you panted as his lips wrapped around your clit as he sucked gently. Your legs closed around his head, only to be forced open again by his strong hands.

You felt the scratch of his stubble against your inner thighs and threw your head back in bliss as he pressed a finger inside you. Your body welcomed the intrusion by bucking your hips against his mouth as his tongue lapped at your most sensitive spot.

“Mm–oh, god! Move your finger. In and out,” you struggled to say. “Make a hook out of it once you’re in. Pl–fuck–play with the spongy wall.”

Bob did as you said and you had no time to feel embarrassed about the sound that just came out of your mouth as he pressed another finger into your core and did just that. Fucking you with his mouth and fingers.

“Bob, yes. Bob!” You moaned, your high building as you held onto his head for dear life, your other hand roughly palming your breasts. “When a woman says she’s close, whatever you do, don’t you f–uh, fuck,– fucking dare change what you’re doing. Y-You want her to come, and trust me, it’s a glorious sight when she does. You’ll want to make her come all the time. Bob, fuck, I’m close.”

Bob hummed against you as you were pushed over the edge. This time he didn’t bother spreading your legs, he let them wrap tightly around his head as your hips rolled against his mouth and your thighs quivered. Your entire body convulsing as he coaxed your orgasm from you while you rode out your high. Continuing to taste you long after you had finished and still suffering from the aftershocks that he’d brought on.

“Fuck, that was…oh my god.” Bob chuckled as you smoothed your hand through his hair, a euphoric grin on your lips. “You taste so good.”

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 4:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Mentions of sexual and romantic attraction. Jealousy. Confusing feelings.

--------------------------------------------------

Hunter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His initial desperation and anger dissipated into a confused silence.

Was he letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment? Were you really, truly fine and he’d just driven you to anger with his incessant worry?

Maybe it was him who’d changed, projecting onto you the frustration of feelings he didn’t understand.

Am I making this all up?

“Hunter?” Omega slid down the ladder from her room, her small face lined with concern.

Kriff. She'd seen the whole thing.

He turned to face her. “What's up, kid?”

“Is she okay?” Omega looked past the ramp where you'd gone out only seconds ago.

“I… I'm not sure, Omega. She said it's fine though. I trust her.”

She didn't look convinced. “I dunno… She looked really mad. And really sad.”

Hunter shrugged. “She said everything was fine.” He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more - Omega or himself.

Omega sighed, putting a hand on his arm. “Don’t be dumb, Hunter. It isn’t remotely fine! She is definitely not ok. She's mad!”

Hunter sighed. He knew she was right. He could read her body language and it did not match her words. Guilt twisted and churned through his guts like seasickness.

“How do you know that?”

Omega shrugged. “I read it on the holonet! Tech had some sites up on his datapad when I borrowed it. Sometimes if a woman says she’s fine, it means she's actually really not fine.” Omega paused and scratched her arm. Her nose wrinkled in confusion. “I mean, I don't really get it, but that's what it said. Though, I don't understand why you'd say one thing but mean the exact opposite.”

Hunter's expression mirrored her own. “Yeah. I'm not really sure either, kid. All I know is things were definitely a lot easier when we were just blowing up Seps.”

And apparently I need to talk to Tech about leaving his datapad lying about. He made a mental note to himself. The last thing he needed was Omega accidentally coming across something she definitely shouldn’t be seeing at her age.

He stood for a moment as Omega grabbed her trooper doll and Lula, carrying them back up the ladder to her room. Wracking his brain, he tried to think of something - anything he might’ve done wrong to upset their companion.

Hunter sighed, sitting heavily in the cockpit chair as Tech worked silently beneath the console.

“What am I supposed to do, Tech?” He hit the wall beside him with a fist, the loud clang earning a scowl from Tech as he poked his head out from under the console.

“What are you talking about? And please don’t hit my ship, I just fixed that panel.”

Hunter drew his arm back, resting it on the armrest instead. “Sorry,” he said glumly.

“It’s fine,” Tech grunted, grabbing another tool before sliding back beneath the console.

“I just don’t know what to do about her!”

“Who? Omega?” Tech’s voice was muffled, nearly drowned out by the sudden buzz of a plasma tool.

“No, not Omega.” Hunter rolled his eyes. His brother could be so oblivious sometimes.

“Ah,” Tech slid out from his workstation again. “Well, what about her?”

Hunter folded his arms across his chest. “She’s just been acting so weird lately.”

“Weird how?” Tech grabbed another tool.

Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know. She leaves the room whenever I walk in. Lately she only ever talks to me when it’s about a job and then it’s only a ‘yes sir’ or a ‘you got it Sarge.’”

“I fail to see how that is a problem.”

Hunter grunted, “It just isn’t her. She isn’t acting like herself.”

“And you’re concerned that this change in behavior will affect her field performance?”

“I…” Hunter hesitated, “Well yeah, but not just that. It’s just…” Hunter paused again, trying to find the words. “It’s just that we’re a team. All of us. I thought if there was something wrong, she’d come talk to me like she used to.”

The whir of a hydrospanner filled the silence before Tech spoke again. “Did you ask her to explain her actions?”

“Yeah. Or at least I tried to but she just said she was fine.”

“But you do not think she’s telling the truth?”

Hunter shrugged. “I was gonna let it go but Omega overheard us and basically yelled at me that saying ‘I’m fine’ means she isn’t actually fine.”

“That seems counterintuitive.” Tech frowned.

Hunter shook his head looking perplexed. “Maybe it’s one of those woman things?”

“Hmm, mood swings and irritability are both symptoms of a woman’s menstrual cycle.”

Hunter scoffed, “Where did you read that?”

Tech poked his head out from beneath the console. “The holonet. I figured that I should do some research on the physiology of the opposite sex since we now have two of them aboard the ship and our education on Kamino was less than sufficient on the subject.”

“We didn’t get any education on that subject.”

“Precisely.”

“I guess that probably was a smart thing to do.”

Tech rolled his eyes, “Of course it was. Did you expect any less?”

Hunter smirked. “I guess not.” His smile faded as he ran a hand down his face. “Did your research tell you what I’m supposed to do with her?”

“Many of the articles on the subject recommended using a heating pack or massage therapy for her physical discomfort. Some suggested that bringing her food - specifically chocolate - may improve irritability.”

Hunter thought for a moment. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” He sighed, “I just don’t want to lose her.”

Tech sat his hydrospanner down and adjusted his goggles. “Indeed. She is a useful asset.”

“Yeah, she is but - “ The sound of soft footsteps interrupted him. He groaned, getting up from his seat. Omega was supposed to have gone back to bed. “Omega?”

When there was no reply, he sat down again shaking his head. “That kid’s something else.”

“Yes. She does have a tendency to disregard orders. Much like us.”

“Yeah.” Hunter rested his chin on his fist.

Tech stood up, brushing dust off of his pants. He looked at his brother.

“You are still thinking about her?”

Hunter groaned again. “I just don't know what to do anymore, Tech! She's not just a member of the team to me! When that shot blew the landing gear the other day, I was terrified that she'd been injured! I find myself thinking about her all the time. She can fight like hell, she's pretty, and smart. I just don't want her to walk away if there's something I could've done!”

“You mean to say that you are experiencing romantic feelings towards her?”

“Definitely not.” Hunter stated defensively. “We’re clones. That’s not in the cards for us.”

Tech raised an eyebrow. “The war is over and we are no longer soldiers of the Republic. Therefore, their rules and regulations no longer apply.” He frowned, “And besides, since when have we ever done as we’re told?”

Hunter was silent. As much as he hated to admit it, Tech did have a point.

Tech frowned in concentration, scrolling through his datapad. “Do you experience an elevated heart rate when in her presence?”

“I guess?”

“Do you value her thoughts and opinions?”

“Of course I do!”

“Do you find yourself wanting to be close to her physically and/or emotionally?”

“...Yes,” Hunter felt almost reluctant to answer.

Tech looked up with a smirk, “Well, then according to this and several other sources, you have in fact, fallen in love.”

--------------------------------------------------

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[fushizhuo]

Happier Than Ever

Y/N, the youngest member of NewJeans, doesn’t seem to fit in. Her groupmates think she’s distant and always trying to outshine them. But during one performance, she steps forward with an unplanned solo, revealing a side of her that no one saw coming. As the truth comes out, everything changes, and Y/N is forced to take a choice she never chose.

Pairing — NewJeans x F! Reader (platonic)

Genre — Angst and a bit of fluff if u squint

Warnings — Mentions of trauma and abuse

WC — 8.6k words

Y/N had always been the outlier in NewJeans. The maknae, the sassy one, the one who never seemed to care. At least, that’s what the others thought. From the moment she joined the group, she was distant, never quite fitting into their easy camaraderie. The way she threw herself into practice, trying to outdo everyone, the sharp remarks, the cold demeanor—it was enough to make them think she was just trying to steal the spotlight.

“She’s so full of herself,” Hyein had muttered one day, rubbing her sore shoulders after another long practice session. “Yeah, I don’t get why she tries so hard,” Danielle added, her tone frustrated.

“It’s like she thinks she has to be perfect all the time.” Haerin hummed. “She probably just wants to be the center of attention,” Minji sighed. “I don’t know. She’s always got this attitude. It’s like she doesn’t care about us.”

What they didn’t know was that Y/N was fighting a battle none of them could see. Her father, a man who had never supported her dream of becoming an idol, was the force behind her relentless drive.

To him, anything less than perfection was a failure. And failure wasn’t an option. “If you don’t stay at the top, you’re done,” he had told her, his voice harsh. “I’ll pull you out of that group and make sure you do something worthwhile. Doctor. Lawyer. Something respectable.”

She had no choice but to push herself harder than anyone else, even if it meant alienating her members. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

That night, the arena was packed. Thousands of fans waved their lightsticks, cheering as the stage lights dimmed for the next performance. Backstage, NewJeans were preparing for their set, but Y/N felt a knot in her stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Tonight, she had to break free.

Before the others could ask what was wrong, Y/N stepped forward, holding her microphone tightly. Her heart raced as she looked at Minji, her voice trembling. “I need to sing a solo.”

“What?” Minji frowned, confused. “We don’t have time for that, Y/N. It’s not part of the plan.”

“I'm sorry, but please.” Y/N said quietly, her eyes avoiding theirs. “I have to do this.”

The others exchanged glances, their frustration evident. What was she thinking? They had worked so hard to prepare for tonight’s show, and now Y/N was going off-script? But in the end they agreed. She never begs, nor apologizes. This must be important.

“Fine,” Minji finally said, exasperated. “But this better be quick.”

Y/N nodded and walked toward the stage, her steps heavy. As she stepped into the spotlight, she caught sight of her father sitting in the front row. His face was blank, emotionless, but Y/N knew better. She could feel his judgment, the pressure that had been suffocating her for years.

She grabs her guitar with her, playing the chords softly, and Y/N took a deep breath. This was it.

She was going to let everything out.

"When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever…"

Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile, but the weight of the words echoed through the arena. The fans quieted, sensing something was different. Backstage, the other members stared in confusion, unsure of what was happening.

"Wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasn’t true…"

Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she kept going. The memories of her father’s cruel words, his impossible demands, played over and over in her mind. This wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was her story.

"You called me again, drunk in your benz, driving home under the influence…"

As the next verse flowed out, Minji’s eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t just some random song choice. Y/N was singing about something real. Something painful.

"You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath, ‘cause you only listen to your fucking friends…"

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she sang. She could feel her father’s cold gaze on her from the audience, and it made her chest tighten. She had spent so long trying to please him, trying to be perfect, but it was never enough.

"I don’t relate to you, I don’t relate to you, no, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this city…"

Haerin gasped softly, finally understanding. Y/N wasn’t some brat trying to outshine them. She was fighting for her life, for her dream. And she had been doing it all alone.

"And I don’t talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad, ‘cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad…"

The pain in Y/N’s voice was raw, unfiltered. Every word cut deeper, every note a release of all the emotions she had buried for years. The fans were in shock, many of them wiping away tears, while backstage, the members watched, hearts breaking.

"So don’t waste the time I don’t have, don’t try to make me feel bad..."

Y/N’s voice grew louder, more intense. The anger she had kept hidden for so long was finally spilling out. She wasn’t just singing for herself—she was fighting for her freedom, for her right to choose her own life.

"I could talk about every time that you showed up on time, but I’d have an empty line, ‘cause you never did…"

Her hands trembled as she gripped the microphone, her voice carrying the weight of years of disappointment. Her father had never been there when she needed him, never supported her when she struggled, and now she was finally telling the world.

"Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut ‘em all out for you ‘cause I was a kid…"

The lights on stage seemed to dim around her as the final words fell from her lips. The room was silent, the audience stunned, unsure of how to react to the raw honesty they had just witnessed.

Backstage, the other members could only stand in shock, tears streaming down their faces. Y/N had been fighting a battle none of them had seen, a battle they had misunderstood. She wasn’t trying to be better than them. She was trying to survive.

"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own..

just fucking leave me alone!"

By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was shaking, her body trembling from the emotional toll. She stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks, staring out into the darkened crowd, knowing her father was there, watching.

Then, as the final note faded, the silence was broken by slow, hesitant applause. It started with one person, then another, until the entire stadium erupted into cheers. The fans understood. They had felt her pain, and they were with her.

Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on the figure of her father sitting in the front row. His face was cold, unfeeling, as if her words hadn’t touched him at all. And in that moment, she knew—he would never change. He would never let her be free.

As the rest of NewJeans rushed onto the stage to comfort her, Y/N felt her father’s presence like a dark cloud looming over her. Her members hugged her tightly, whispering apologies, telling her they were there for her now. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

“I’m so sorry,” Minji whispered, holding Y/N’s shaking form. “We didn’t know… We didn’t understand.”

“We should’ve seen it,” Hanni added, her voice thick with guilt. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her father’s eyes bored into her from across the stage, and she knew this wasn’t over. It wasn’t up to her anymore.

Suddenly, a figure began moving toward the stage. It was her father, pushing his way through the crowd, his face stone-cold with fury. The members of NewJeans noticed him at the same time, their protectiveness flaring up as they closed in around Y/N.

“What does he want?” Danielle asked, her voice trembling with anger.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just stood there, frozen in place, as her father reached the edge of the stage and motioned for her to come down. His hand gestured sharply, a silent command.

“Y/N…” Minji started, her voice full of concern.

But Y/N knew she had no choice. She wiped her tears and stepped back from her groupmates, avoiding their eyes as she walked toward the stairs. The crowd’s cheers faded as confusion spread through the arena.

“Where is she going?” Hyein whispered, panic creeping into her voice.

Her father grabbed her arm as soon as she reached him, pulling her away from the stage. The grip was tight, unforgiving. Y/N winced but didn’t fight back. She was too drained, too scared. Her dream was slipping away before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do.

“No,” Minji said firmly, stepping forward. “She doesn’t have to go with you.”

But Y/N’s father shot them a cold glare. “This is none of your business. She’s my daughter. And she’s done with this ridiculous idol nonsense.”

Danielle’s fists clenched in anger. “You can’t do that to her. She’s not your puppet.”

Y/N shook her head slightly, signaling to her members that it was no use. This was her reality. Her father’s control over her life was too strong, and no matter how much they cared for her now, it wasn’t enough to change that.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry…”

Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein and Haerin stood helplessly as Y/N was led away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The fans, confused and heartbroken, watched as the youngest member of NewJeans was taken from the stage, her future with the group slipping away with every step.

As the doors to the backstage area closed behind her, Y/N felt her father’s control settling over her once again. The dream she had worked so hard for, the friendships she had finally started to build—it was all slipping through her fingers.

She had sung her truth. She had shown the world who she really was.

But it wasn’t enough.

Her father’s voice was low and cold as they left the venue. “That’s it. You’re done with this idol nonsense. Tomorrow, we’ll start making plans for your future. A real future.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She had nothing left to say.

As the car drove away from the arena, leaving the lights and cheers behind, Y/N stared out the window, her heart heavy with the realization that her dream was over.

She was no longer a part of NewJeans.

And in that cold night, she knew she would never be happier than ever again.