#I'm sorry I'm not answering asks about this guys

[flwrstqr]

FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.

pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader

genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic

warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap

word count: 5k+

AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help

AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.

"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.

"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:

8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house

You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.

The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.

A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.

"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."

"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.

Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.

"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"

You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.

"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.

"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.

"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.

"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."

You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"

"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."

"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.

"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"

You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"

Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.

"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.

"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.

"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.

As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.

Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."

"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."

"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.

"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.

"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.

"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"

That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.

"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.

"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.

You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.

“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.

"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.

"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.

"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.

Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders

"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.

"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."

“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow. 

“At the party,” you mumbled. 

"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.

"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.

Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"

"Maybe," you reply.

"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.

"Weird stuff," you say.

"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.

"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.

"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.

"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.

"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.

Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"

"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.

As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.

"Can I get your number?" he asks.

"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.

"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.

"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.

As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.

"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.

"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.

"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.

"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"

"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.

"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.

"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.

"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.

"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."

"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"

"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.

"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"

"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.

"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.

"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.

"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.

"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.

The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?

Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?

Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.

"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.

"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.

The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."

In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.

As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."

The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him. 

“So…” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.

“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.

“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.

"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."

"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.

"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."

"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?

You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."

"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"

"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.

"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"

"I'll walk," you smile.

"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.

"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."

Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"

You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"

"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."

You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.

"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.

"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.

"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.

"Alright, fine…" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.

"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.

After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.

Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.

"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.

"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.

"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.

"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.

"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."

"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.

"YN…" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."

"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it…" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.

"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted 

"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.

"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."

"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.

Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.

"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS…" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.

"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.

"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.

Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.

"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more…mature, especially in her care for you."

"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.

"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.

"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.

"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.

As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.

"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.

"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?

"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.

YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.

“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.

“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”

You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung

“YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time. 

“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive. 

“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims. 

Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind? 

You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him. 

“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls. 

“Huh?” you look up from talking. 

“Is it?” Jihyeon asks. 

“Uhm..” you hesitate. 

“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.

YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.

"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts. 

But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.

"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."

Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him? 

You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak. 

With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.

Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.

"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."

Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."

With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart. 

"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.

"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"

"YN…" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"

"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.

"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.

"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."

"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.

"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."

"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."

HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days. 

Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.

"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.

Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."

Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.

"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."

Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."

Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…uh…what makes you ask that?"

Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.

"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.

THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.

The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you. 

"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I…," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.

"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.

The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"

Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.

"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."

Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.

"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but…"

You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.

“But  you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything 

For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist. 

But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time. 

As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back. 

THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.

Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter. 

When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.

Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"

Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.

And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could. 

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 2 : Esmerelda Variation

Heaven's outfit at the match:

Note: Thank you for the insane amount of love you guys are showing this. This is still a ground work laying chapter so still a little short but with a bit of drama. I should warn that just like the characters from the movie, Heaven is going to be ambiguous. Sometimes she'll be great, sometimes she'll be toxic (you have to remember she's best friends with Tashi for a reason). Anyways, you will get to know her as the story goes on. Thank you for all of the likes, follows, reblogs and notes, I really love hearing from you all and will be responding to them today. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I wrote it in the middle of the night lol. (P.s. I have a bad track record with tag lists but I'm going to try, let me know if it works.)

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams

“You remember when you said you’d let me win this one?”

“That was a lifetime ago.”

Art whips his head to look at Patrick who’s staring out onto the currently empty court, leaning back on the bench with his elbows. “But what about my grandmother?”

“You better hope she has a stroke.” the brown haired man shrugs, patting his friend’s shoulder. “I mean Tashi Duncan is gonna be watching. Tennis princess. And her hot friend. Can’t fuck up, sorry man.”

Art just shakes his head and takes a swig of water. Two hours had passed since this morning’s run-in and he still hadn’t been able to force himself to tell Patrick about the fact that Heaven’s number was on the line too. It’d only be fair, he knows that. But…Art really didn’t want Patrick to have it.

He should’ve just asked her for it directly instead of hiding behind this performance in interest in getting it from her. But he’d been thrown off. He’d truthfully thought he wouldn’t be able to see her again after she announced she had a boyfriend to the group. When he saw her on the beach that morning he found himself jogging down to catch her, and struggling to keep pure thoughts as she talked to him in her skimpy workout gear, telling him she’s single now. 

She was just so pretty. The sweat and the morning sun made her skin glisten. Her smile on her face made her cheeks dimple cutely and drew his attention to her soft lips. And she had this look in her eye. She and Tashi are so different yet so alike. She was asking him if competing was how he wanted to get her number. He was asked to make the choice. But it was the challenge he found swimming in her gaze. Like, there was only one right answer, that she expected him to be able to make the decision himself. Like if he shied away now, the little fire he saw in her eyes would die. 

Heaven was just as into this as Tashi was. 

The thought of her giving that look to Patrick too, it was something he couldn’t handle.

“Shame about that boyfriend though…wonder if it’s serious…Art. Art?” 

Art jolts out of his inner thoughts and focuses on his friend opening his breakfast sandwich next to him. “D’you think Heaven’s relationship is serious? I feel like she was flirting a little. Poor bastard. Sending his girl on the road without him when she looks like that? Fuckin’ idiot. And she’s a dancer, do you know what that means?” Patrick asks, holding the sandwich out for Art to take a bite, smiling when he does and swiping his thumb across his mouth to rid him of some crumbs.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“She’s fuckin’ flexible, Arthur.” He growls, a smirk on his face. “She’s bendy and shit.”

Art’s lip curls in disgust as he shoves his friend, huffing out an irritated laugh when he’s shoved back. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about her like that. Either of them, they’re people, jesus, Patrick.”

“Yes, exactly. Beautiful people. That I would like to fuck.”

“You’re a great guy, man, really.” he sighs sarcastically, tossing his arm around Patrick’s shoulder.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate that.”

Heaven is quiet as she lets Tashi guide her to their seats in the center for the Donaldson v. Zweig match. Her friend had been excited all morning, ready to finally see some “real fuckin’ tennis’. Heaven was excited too. She’s always enjoyed watching people she knows do what they’re passionate about. 

That’s why she’s always loved watching Tashi play tennis. Tashi plays tennis like she’s making love and going to war all at the same time. She leaves everything on the court, like each match is the last thing she’ll ever do. She goes somewhere, and Heaven likes going with her. Passion is what moves her. She’s passionate about dance. A life without it is meaningless.

“You good?” Tashi asks, nudging her knee with her own, grabbing Heaven’s attention.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

The taller girl shrugs, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder with pursed lips. “Just making sure you’re not letting that dickhead Trevor get to you. He’s a waste of time and space in your brain. Can’t play basketball for shit and doesn’t know when to stop.” Tashi nudges Heaven again when she rolls her eyes, facing the court. “I mean, you obviously don’t have to listen to me, babe, I just know you’re too good for that shit. Don’t want you to waste your energy.”

That shit. That’s the shit she doesn’t like about Tashi. When she can’t tell if she genuinely is being her best friend, or is jealous that she’s been sharing Heaven’s attention. The condescending demand that Heaven show no weakness regarding someone other than her. Heaven knows Tashi wants what’s best for her. But she doesn’t own her emotions. 

“Said I’m fine, T.” Heaven huffs, ignoring Tashi’s stare out of the corner of her eye and opting to watch the announcer climb the ladder and take position. “By the way, I saw Art this morning. I told him that we could double the stakes. Winner gets your number and mine.” When Tashi’s reaction doesn’t come, Heaven looks at her to see that she’s now facing forward, smiling almost evilly at the court.

“God, this is gonna be so good. Do you know how horny those guys are? They think the winner is gonna end up fucking us together, this is gonna be a real match.”

Heaven goes to respond but pauses as the men begin making their way onto the court, their names echoing in the microphone as they begin placing their bags down. Tashi finishes signing an autograph for a fan sitting behind them and settles back into her seat. 

Both men immediately seek them out in the crowd, two sets of eyes finding the girls sitting in the center. Patrick points his racket in their direction with a cocky smile before turning to take to the court. Art gages their reactions to his friend, watching both women offer smiles to him and offering them his own wave. A bright grin lights his face when they return it. 

“Boys are so easy.” Tashi laughs through her teeth. 

“Very.” Heaven agrees, crossing her legs as she watches the match begin. Both men are working their asses off out of the gate. The ball sails back and forth across the net. Their grunts ring out into the air. Their eyes tense, sweat dripping, breathing heavy. At first, they were being showmen. Both of them stopping, looking to the stands for the girls' approval only working harder when the most they are offered back is a small nod. 

But they got focused. They moved faster. Worked harder. They forgot them and just played some fucking tennis. And it was sexy as hell. For the first time ever, Heaven was experiencing the feeling she gets watching Tashi play. And she was experiencing it watching someone else.

Tashi was enjoying the game immensely. She loves this shit. This is the game she lives for, and she and her best friend had made it more interesting. She grins as she watches the ball go to Patrick, then Art, then back again. Her head swiveled with everyone else’s and she felt happy. Impressed. 

Until she saw Heaven out of the corner of her eye. 

Heaven sitting on the edge of her seat, looking at Patrick then Art then Patrick then Art. She hadn’t looked at Tashi since they started. It’s normal. They’ve watched matches together before, but this look on her face. That was supposed to be Tashi’s look. 

Biting her lip in focus, breathing slightly elevated in the excitement, one hand toying with her name chain on her otherwise bare collar bone as the other clutched the arm of the chair, arched forward, leaning towards them. 

Tashi shakes her head briefly and focuses back on the match, placing one hand on Heaven’s knee. 

Just in case she slipped from her seat. 

When Patrick took his bow, looking through his dark lashes to see Heaven and Tashi’s reactions. Both of them look pleased. Offering him applause as he stands before going to grab his things. 

Art watches in defeat. The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches it in irritation. He walks off his adrenaline, pacing between clearing his things from the bench. He feels a heavy hand clap on his back. “Good game, man. I’ll meet you out front, yeah? I’ve got a number to collect.”

“Yeah. Good game.” he says quietly. 

Two. Two numbers. Both. He’s getting both. He deserves neither, and he’s getting Tashi Duncan and Heaven Whitlock. 

Art sits on the competitor’s chair, pulling his shirt off and tossing it over his head to shield himself from the sun as he puts his head back. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there. But he can’t bring himself to get up. To meet Patrick. To watch Tashi know he’s better than him as she gives him her number. To watch Heaven decide that he hadn’t earned the right to want her.

He doesn’t remove the shirt until he hears shoes clacking on the court. He’s expecting to see an employee of the tournament but is shocked to see Heaven standing in front of him with an unenthused look. 

“Oh, good, I thought you were crying.”

“Um, nope.” Art huffs, a wry smile on his face. “That would be a little pathetic, even for me.”

Heaven’s head tilts, her dark, silky hair falling to the side as she does. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and Art hops out of the chair, offering it to her. “How is almost winning pathetic?”

“I didn’t almost win-”

“He didn’t sweep you. You could’ve won. He’s just better today. When Tashi wins, the other person usually doesn’t even get more than one point.” Heaven pushes up into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Art can’t help but reminisce. Her legs are now covered by her light washed jeans, but her bare shoulders remind him of the expanse of glowing skin he’d seen earlier this morning. “The score was close.” 

Art smiles slightly at that. He’s still annoyed he was unable to beat his friend, but her words, while based solely in logic, still managed to be comforting. “So, uh, I bet Patrick was pretty fuckin’ happy to get you and Tashi’s numbers.”

“Oh, he was pretty damn excited.” Heaven laughs. “It was cute.”

Ouch. “Yeah, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it.”

Heaven nods, lips rolling inward as she uses her arms to push herself forward, kicking him lightly with her leg, smiling flirtily when he catches her foot, his large hand encasing her ankle. He rights her gold anklet, turning it so that the cross on it is facing upward before bringing her foot back to the ground. “What about you?”

“What about me? I lost. Fair and square.”

“You did.” she grins, resting her chin in her hand. “But the wager changed this morning didn’t it? I agreed that the winner would get my and Tashi’s numbers, but you had an added requirement, right?”

Art’s brows furrowed in confusion briefly before the realization hits him. “I had to earn it.”

“If you’d won, but didn’t earn the win, I wouldn’t give it to you. I have my opinion. What’s yours? Do you feel like you earned my number today?” 

“You want to give it to me anyway?” 

Heaven shakes her head and hops down from the seat, moving closer to Art and fully expecting him to back up, pleasantly surprised when he just tilts his head down to accommodate her height. “I want you to tell me if today was your best.”

Art breathes out heavily. There’s a part of him that wants to just say ‘fuck it, yes’. He wants to say that's the best he can do, and he did earn her number already. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look her in the face and say he couldn’t do better. He couldn’t have her look at him like he didn’t have potential. “No.”

That’s apparently the right answer, because Heaven offers him a quiet, “Good.” before brushing past him, her arm narrowly missing his, causing the hairs on his skin to stand. 

As he watches the girl prance away from him gracefully, Art bites back his own smirk, looking to the ground and nodding to himself. 

He has some work to do.

“Just tell me. I just wanna know.” Art chews his gum, trying to look nonchalant as possible as he and Patrick make their way onto the courts.

He’d been haunted by the way his friend is seemingly getting joy from being very secretive about what he’s been doing with Tashi and Heaven. He knows he’s been talking to them. He can tell. It’s in the smug looks. The fucking half stories without names. He’s fucking keeping them to himself. Won’t even share their names with him. And in response to Art’s irritation, Patrick smirks. The same stupid fucking crooked smirk that always hides his snide remarks and secrets. Usually, Art has a twin one to match, now, the joke is on him.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are telling me to kiss and tell. You used to be a gentleman, Art.”  Patrick chuckles, grabbing a ball and preparing to serve.

“Just tell me if you slept with either of them.” Art pushes, moving to the opposite side of the net and getting into position. “C’mon, it doesn’t matter. If you’ve slept with Tashi, do a normal serve. Serve like me.” 

Patrick hesitates a bit, shaking his head as he looks at his friend’s determined face. He knows Art is not gonna stop asking. But he’s gonna be so butthurt about the answer. He rolls his choices around in his head, briefly considering if it would piss off the girls for him to talk about it and deciding they wouldn’t care about Art knowing. And, he couldn’t help himself from bragging. 

Setting up the serve and sending the ball sailing over the net, Patrick gives Art the confirmation he was seeking. Art offers him a smile in an attempt to appear nonchalant, and goes to hit the ball, only to see a second one flying past him on his other side.

“Wh-”

Patrick grins again, watching the two balls bounce and roll on the opposite sides of Art. He shrugs, strolling over to the net. “I figured you’d ask about Heaven too.” Holding his hand out in front of Art’s mouth he catches the gum he spits into it. “They…uh fancy themselves a package deal.”

“Really?” Art breathes through the smile he has painted on his face. 

“Yeah.” Patrick squirts water into his mouth. “S’fuckin’ awesome.”

Art just chuckles politely until Patrick turns around to get another ball, using his friend’s distraction to let his smile drop into an aggravated frown.

The next time the whole group is all together is move in week. Heaven and Tashi had somehow convinced the men that even though Patrick was packing up for his tour and Art was also moving in, they needed to help them move into their dorms. They were starting with Stanford today and planned to make their way to UCLA tomorrow to get Heaven’s stuff together. While Art now naturally had Tashi's number because they were going to school together, he and Heaven had stuck to their deal. He hadn't decided what he was going to do to get it. Maybe win a match while she was here visiting in a couple weeks. Or maybe he had to beat Patrick specifically. He didn't know, but he as much as he wants her respect, he was getting sick of waiting.

Both men had removed their shirts in the California heat, carrying Tashi’s tennis equipment, replacement mattress, mini fridge and all ten tons of luggage she brought. 

The women were being helpful too. Heaven was apparently resting her legs in anticipation of her audition tomorrow, and rode comfortably on Patrick’s back up the steps during the first trip from the van. After that the girls had made Tashi’s bed before both climbing onto it and sharing a lollipop as they watched the boys work. 

“No, I want my printer over there.” Tashi calls, popping the candy out her mouth and passing it to Heaven, who is absently scrolling on her phone when she drags it into hers.

“Next time, I want green apple.”

Patrick drops the printer on the desk and turns to them. “You know, people hire movers for stuff like this. Where’s your dad?”

Tashi just ignores him, leaning her head over to look at whatever Heaven is staring at on her phone.

“Men used to build houses, you know.” Heaven says, tilting the device so Tashi can see better. The latter nodding at whatever she’s being shown.

“Mm, and go to war.” Tashi sighs boredly, “You guys can’t carry mini furniture?”

Patrick huffs irritably and looks to Art to back him up. “We’re almost done.” The blond shrugs, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“You just like kissing their asses.”

“And you don’t?” Tashi calls from the bed. 

Patrick huffs and lifts the printer again, moving it to where Tashi indicated it should go. Meanwhile, Art moves over to the bed finally done emptying the trolley they borrowed from the university. “What’re you two looking at?”

“I’m helping Heaven decide what piece she should do for her audition in a couple days.” Tashi rolls off of the bed and stretches her muscles, “she’s being stubborn.”

Art’s brows furrow as he looks down at Heaven, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, not reacting to Tashi’s criticism at all. She’d known about that audition since before they met them. He’s shocked to hear she still hasn’t decided on a piece. 

“It’s not being stubborn, Tashi-” the girl pauses her movements at the use of her real name, brow raising. “It’s my audition.”

“Okay. Yeah, I just don’t wanna hear you whine for the next two weeks about how you should’ve done Odile from Swan Lake but pussied out because it’s hard and you know you’d complain.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“Exactly, babe, exactly. That’s why I don’t get why you don’t just go set the tone.” Tashi chirps. Her voice does that thing. That thing she does when she's pretending she's being casual about something. Going up an octave to show just how much she doesn't care.

Heaven sits up then, a stern look on her face that can rival the one Tashi gives, both hands planted in the bed as she stares the other girl down. “You don’t think I’ll get the lead with whatever I pick.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A dare. The look she gives dares Tashi to say the wrong thing. 

Patrick and Art don’t know what to do. They’d never seen the girls disagree before. They’re always tag-teaming everyone. Tagging in and out of conversations, finishing each other’s quick remarks, cutting people down with sharp looks together. They’d never seen them face off before.

“I know you’d better get the lead.” Tashi shrugs, flipping her hair over and tying it up with a hair tie.

“I’m gonna. Have I ever not?” Heaven sends back. 

Tashi gives her a noncommittal look before snatching up Patrick’s shirt, tossing it into his hands. “Come hit the ball with me.” 

She offers Art one glance. It’s an invitation, very clearly for everyone except Heaven, who was already turned away on the bed, scrolling on her phone again. 

Patrick and Art have their own wide-eyed, silent conversation, finally settling through gestures. ‘You go with that one, I’ll stay with this one, hopefully no one pitches a fit.’

The dorm room door slips shut and the room is quiet aside from the clock ticking on Tashi’s dresser. A few moments pass before Heaven lets out a loud sigh and rolls over, gasping when she sees Art sitting at the desk on his own phone. “What the fuck?”

His eyes widen as he looks at her. “What?”

“I thought you left with Tashi and Patrick.”

He softens as that, offering her a smile. “And leave you by yourself? Nah. Anyway, we’re gonna be playing tennis everyday for the rest of this semester. Let’s go tour my college campus.”

Heaven looks up at the blond man outstretching his hand to her. Part of it is because she’s pissed at Tashi and didn’t wanna be laying here when she got back, but another part of her thought it might be fun to use this as an opportunity to get to know Art more. 

Since she, Patrick and Tashi started hooking up, she’d decided she was satisfied with keeping the set up she had. She had some fun, they dated, and ultimately, there weren’t many requirements. Her focus was just dance now, she wasn’t looking to waste her time on another boyfriend who wouldn’t work out, and going down the exclusive route with Tashi would get…complicated.

But sometimes she thought about Art. She thought about his cute smile and blond hair. She thought about his voice and muscles. And since the match, she thinks about how he played tennis. She could’ve came from watching him play tennis.

A secret she’ll take to the grave, mind you.

But one that led her to walking around campus with him, despite the fact that she and Tashi had agreed she needed to rest her legs before her audition.

Art told her all about the stuff the guide book talked about, showing her the historic buildings, the dorm he now calls home and the dining hall. And somehow, they ended up in the small theater that’s located on the campus.

He smiles, glancing at her, rocking on his feet as they stand outside the building. 

Heaven rolls her eyes playfully, nudging his shoulder. “Huh. I wonder how we ended up here.

“Couldn’t tell you. Definitely didn’t walk you to this…very small theater on purpose.” Art shrugs. “Probably should go in though.” He says breezily, pushing the door open for Heaven to walk through.

As she steps over the threshold, Heaven’s bad mood nearly dissolves. Her tense shoulders relax and her eyes slip closed. Art watches her all but melt into the environment, her pretty features smooth out as she breathes in deeply. “A theater is a theater. I missed this, traveling with Tashi.”

“I’d bet. I’m sure you don’t get much time to dance when you do that.” He says softly, watching her run her hands along the stage.

“Just drills so I don’t get rusty.” She hums. “I’m gonna end up doing Odile. She’s right, it’s a show stopper, guaranteed lead.”

Art sits in the front, center seat, watching as Heaven pushes her way up onto the stage, sitting on the edge. “I’m sure you’d get it no matter what you did. You’re a beautiful dancer.”

Heaven sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve never seen me dance, Arthur.”

He looks at her with an earnest, almost pleading expression that makes her stomach flip. “Could I? Please?”

“Okay.”

Art hasn’t experienced that much of life yet. He’s young, he’s had the same best friend forever. He went to a boarding school for tennis. He hasn’t traveled the world yet or anything.

But he’s pretty sure he would like to watch Heaven Whitlock dance. 

She was in sweats. Unprepared, with no shoes. Though she denied it, she was clearly nervous that her friend would bust in, see her, and it would start round two of their squabble. But she stretches for a moment before crouching to set up her phone. “Do you know what you wanna see or…”

Art blushes at that, he doesn’t exactly know any ballets. He just wanted to see Heaven in her element. “How about you show me the dance you wanna do.”

There it is. The truth. They both know she’s gonna do the dance Tashi is recommending. But right now she’s not here. And Art wants to see what Heaven would enjoy doing.

“It’s the Esmeralda Variation.” She says, untying her shoelaces before pulling her shoes off altogether. “I need something to kick.”

Art immediately pulls his hat off, tossing it up to her and chuckling as she giggles catching it. One tap on her phone and the muffled music is echoing in the empty theater. 

And she’s moving.

And Art can’t breathe. 

He’s never seen anything like it, like her. The grace. The control she has over her body. He didn’t know people could look like that. He didn’t know balance could be so beautiful. It was like, he didn’t even want to blink. He didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

His eyes tracked her body’s movements with precision, but what they really focused on was her face. He’d never seen perfection like that. Peace like that. This was what Tashi was talking about. This is what she feels with tennis, Heaven has dance. She was in a relationship. With the song. With her body. The floor. The audience. Him. 

Watching Heaven dance felt like witnessing love.

She’s amazing.

The dance was fun, playful, and looked difficult as hell. And she did it with ease.

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she stopped, sliding down into a final split with a bright smile on her face. “That’s…you’re beautiful. That’s amazing, what you just did.”

Heaven gives him a pleased look that has him feeling warm. She moves to sit on the edge of the stage, letting her legs dangle as she looks at him. Her hands rest on her knees. “Thanks, Art, that means a lot.”

He shifts in his own seat, leaning forward. He pushes up out of the red theater chair and makes his way over to stand in front of her. “I mean it. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“You’re really good at that, you know.” Heaven says, her voice dropping to a whisper as she looks at him. This is the first time they’ve been face to face before. He’s tall, and imposing despite his accommodating demeanor. She bites her lip and watches his eyes immediately drop before he forces them back to her eyes. “Making people feel good about themselves.”

Art’s startled by the compliment, and immediately starts to laugh it off. Betrayed by the redness of his ears. “You have a gift.” He shrugs. “You should be told you have a gift, all the time.”

He doesn’t know what comes over him. The wave of boldness. It might’ve been that they were alone. Or he was still worked up from what he just witnessed. Or the way Heaven was looking at him, with intensity. Like she saw something. He rests one hand on her leg, feeling smooth skin. And pushes into her space, bringing their faces impossibly closer. Heaven’s big eyes flutter shut as he gets closer, and he smiles.

She wants him to kiss her.

Grabbing his hat from behind her and placing it on his head.

Her eyes open after a beat and she gasps out a laugh, their faces still just a breath apart. “Ha. You’re funny-”

He presses his lips to hers in a brief but deep kiss, pulling away just as she pressed her lips back. “I’m sorry.”

Heaven balls her fist in the front of his shirt, dragging him back to her and making their lips meet again. Their mouths move together in a new dance. Suddenly the room is filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and hums of contentment. Heaven’s hands find their way into Art’s hair as he anchors her waist, pulling her to the very edge of the stage so he can stand between her thighs.

When they pull away their lips cause a loud smack in the dimly lit room. Art’s thumb sweeps over the soft skin of Heaven’s cheek as they both desperately try to catch their breath. Her own hand moves about his curls, smoothing them before sliding to his jaw. Art turns his head to press a kiss to her palm before he speaks.

“Heaven-”

His eyes widen as he sees the girl’s eyes watering, her rose petal lips trembling as she looks at him. Chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. She runs her hands through her hair with a stressed look that Art thinks he would do anything to remove.

“Please don’t tell Tashi.”

[rafesslxt]

Hiii! I love your work! I was wondering if you could write something where Mattheo and the reader are enemies with sexual tension and one day their friends lock them in a room together and won’t let them out till they fuck and they eventually do?

Thank you!!

Hii love, love the idea, hope u have fun reading. Thank you for your request 🤍☁️

SAY YOU HATE ME | m. riddle

summary: reader and mattheo hate each other so their friends lock them together in a room

warnings: pure filthy smut!, enemy‘s to lovers, insults, arguing, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, rough, fingering, sucking on fingers, coming inside reader

words: 3,1k

When Pansy, Draco and Blaise told me they have a suprise for me, I wasn‘t really convinced and sure it was some kind of prank but I also wasn‘t a quitter or a party booper so I sighed and let Pansy put the blindfold over my eyes like she wanted to.

She grabs me by my arm and starts leading me through our common room. We walk for like 5 minutes until they stop and tell me to be quit. I nod and take a deep breath when I hear them open a door. Pansy gently pushes me forwards and I can hear her smile while saying "Have fun you two." My eyebrows furrow together. What does she mean 'you two' ? I hear the door closing behind me with a few giggles so I take my blindfold off and turn towards the door. "What the hell guys?" I yell through the door.

"Oh so that's their plan." I suddenly hear someone say behind me. I spin around, seeing Mattheo Riddle sitting on the edge of a bed. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask him, my eyes looking at him and then around the room we're in.

"First of all, we're in my room , so I could ask you the same. Second, isn't it obvious to you what they're trying to do?" "Oh hell no!" Angry I walk back to the door and bang against it with my hands. "Pansy! let me out!" I hear them whispering behind the door before Lorenzo's voice speaks up. "You two will not get out until you talk about your problems." "Yeah or fuck them out." I hear Draco laughing. "Draco!" Pansy hisses.

"Guy's this isn't funny! I have things to do!" I answer, hoping they would do the right thing. But who am I kidding? "No what really isn't funny is how you two always argue with each other and ruin the vibe in our friend group for years now! So talk or never get out of there!" Blaise answers and I can basically hear him rolling his eyes before they disappear from the door.

I turn around then and look at Mattheo. "This is your fault! I hope you know that." I bitch at him, sitting on the other bed in the room that is Theodore's. He starts laughing and looks at me as If I have 3 heads. "Are you kidding me? If someone is responsible for this then it's you! You're the one who always acts like a bitch to me." "Hm, maybe I wouldn't act like a bitch If you wouldn't be such a pain in the ass with your stupid comments all day long."

He raises his eyebrows and leans forwards, his elbows on his knees now. "Oh you think so? Maybe I wouldn't have to leave stupid comments If you would consider using your brain for even a second."

My eyes widen at his comment. "Excuse me? You're just mad about the fact that I'm the only fucking girl in this school who isn't on her knees for you! Sorry Mattheo, not every woman thinks you're it."

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me, making his curls bounce slightly over his forehead. "This is ridiculous. As If I would even want you to be on your knees for me." I scoff at that. "Yeah why should you, right? Your type is dumb and brainless. Oh sorry, I forgot whore."

I see his face getting red and his jaw clenching. Suddenly he stands and walks over to me until he stands in between my legs, making me widen my eyes at him. He leans forward and speaks "What is your problem y/n? Why are you so fucking nice to everyone, acting like a little angel but are the biggest bitch the next second. Only to me of course. What is it that bugs you so much huh?" he breathes against my face, looking right into my shocked eyes.

"I - I just told you - you're always a pain -" "- in the ass. I know. But Draco is too. And I don't see you bitching at him like you do at me." "That's different. Draco is Pansy's boyfriend and I have respect for that." He scoffs at my excuse and to be honest, he was right. But why should I tell him?

"You know.. I kinda get a feeling, that you do want to be one of them." he starts, looking intensely at my lips. I swallow and look into his dark eyes. "One of who?" A smirk plays on his lips when he gets closer, making me back away a little until I'm just supporting myself with my elbows behind me, his body leaning over mine but not touching it. I feel his body heat around mine, my cheeks getting a little flushed at the warmth. He grins and answers me." " Dumb, brainless... a whore."

I gasp at his comment but before I could protest he speaks again. "Maybe then you would have a chance with me. Maybe that's why you're mad at me. Because your little brain always gets in the way and If it would just shut up for a second, then maybe you would have a chance." My eyes almost get stuck at the back of my head at how hard I just rolled them. "First of all, that doesn't even make sense. And like I said. I don't want you."

Then I feel his right hand on my waist, slowly tracing the bare skin on there due to my short crop top. "Then why are your cheeks blushing? Why aren't you pushing me away? You're so locked into my eyes that you're just laying under me like a little helpless thing." I swallow down the clump in my throat at his words. He'r right? Why am I still under him? Normally I would have smacked the shit out of him.

"See." he starts with a smirk. "You do want this. Me. You're just too stubborn to admit that I get under your skin all the time because you want me." I breath get's stuck in my lungs when I feel his fingers on my waist wandering over my stomach. "And you know what's the worst part of it? I just want you as much as you want me. I wanna taste every single part of your body." he whispers against my lips, now just an inch away from mine. "What?" I whisper back in shock. He want's me? What the hell is going on? Did they slip something in his drink too? Is that the actual prank? Him pretending to want me?

"You heard right.." his lips get away from my face again, switching towards the side of my throat. ".. I want you so fucking bad. And you're making me go crazy with your stupid comments all the time. Every time we're with our friends and you start insulting me, I just want to pull you near the first surface possible and fuck you stupid in front of them." After that his lips meet the skin of my neck, a gasp leaving my lips at the sudden contact. His breath was warm and his lips so so soft. Goosebumps erupt over my whole body instantly.

"Mattheo.." I whisper as a warning, but for what I don't know. "What? Are you scared that I'm right? Scared that you will let those walls down? That you let me take you?" I yelp when he bites down on my neck, leaving a light mark. "Come on.. tell me you hate me."

I want t, but I can't. The words just won't leave my mouth when my eyes start closing at the pleasure he's giving me on my neck. I starts kissing down towards my collarbone, nibbling at my skin here and there. Involuntary I arch my back, pressing my body against his.

His mouth moves down to my cleavage, kissing the top of my breasts. "Fuck you taste so good, y/n. Tell me you want this." I remain silent until he pinches my nipples lightly through my top, a whimper leaving my mouth.

"Tell me you want this too or I will stop. Come on baby." The little hairs on my neck raise when he calls me that. I slowly nod, my eyes still closed. "Words. I need words. And open your eyes for me." I slowly open them, looking right into his when I do so. "Say it.." he whispers against my lips, grazing them with his own. "I - I want you too." I finally say, putting a smirk on his face before he presses his lips against mine, his left hand finding my cheek.

The kiss is passionate and longing, leaving no air in our lungs. "Fuck, this is gonna be so so good." he groans against me, climbing on top of me now fully.

He pushes my legs apart with his knees, settling between them afterwards. When he lets go of my lips, breathing heavy, he works his way down with his mouth again, starting at my chest. I bite down on my lip and let my hands go through his curls, pulling on some strands. He groans when I pull, his hands roaming up my body until he squeezes my tits through my top. They slowly push my top upwards until my chest is completely exposed. He looks down at me and grins satisfied. "Fuck how could you hide that for so long from me baby? You're killing me." he groans and I see him pushing his hips down against the mattress for some friction. I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Mattheo grinding against the mattress because he's hard for me.

He starts massaging my tits, leaning down with his mouth, sucking on my nipple. "Oh -" I press my lips together, trying to be quiet. I pull harder on his hair, making him groan and grind against the mattress again. God help me.

"If you keep pulling on my hair like that I'm not gonna last another second." he breathes out when he lets go of my nipple. A grin forms on my lips when I suddenly got my confidence back. " Oh so you mean you will last longer than a minute?" He frowns at me before leaning down again and biting my nipple, while playing with the other one. "Mattheo!" I hiss loudly making him laugh devilish against my skin.

"I don't know If I want you to scream my name or shutting the fuck up." he chuckles when he starts pulling down my skirt. "How about you shut the fuc-" before I could finish my sentence he stuffs two fingers into my mouth. "Use your mouth for something good and suck baby." I roll my eyes but still do as he says. I run my tongue around the top of his fingers playfully, smiling while doing so.

I gasp when I feel his other hand on my clothed pussy. "Shit, you're soaked y/n. Fucking dripping." he says with his jaw hanging down and his eyes on my private part.

With two fingers he pulls my panties down, making me gasp at the cold air against my wetness. "You make me go crazy, you know that? Bet you're so tight - oh fuck yeah." he moans when he slowly enters me with his fingers he used to pull my underwear down. You could hear the wetness all over the room. I bit down on his fingers when he starts to pump them in and out faster. "Hm yeah fucking moan for me, come on." he bites down on his lip while watching my lips wrapped around his fingers. I buckle my hips when his thumb starts teasing my clit, only touching it for a short moment before letting go of it. I indeed moan around his fingers, closing my eyes.

"I'm so hard for you I can't believe it myself." he mumbles to himself, leaning down so his breath hits my clit, pulling a whimper from me this time. He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and I hear them working his belt. "Mattheo please.." "What baby? Talk to me.." "Mhh I need more.. wanna feel you." I completely forget my pride while he fucks me with his fingers.

"Wanna feel my cock inside you? That's what you want?" "Fuck yes - please!" He pulls his fingers out of me, smiling when I whine in protest. I look up at him and see him sucking my juices off his fingers, making my stomach flip. "Taste so good princess." he groans and bites his bottom lip after pulling his fingers out of his mouth.

I watch him puling his pants down his legs, kicking them somewhere in the room. He pulls his shirt over his head, making me gasp in surprise. I knew he is fit but that fit? "Wanna take a picture?" he asks me cockily. "You wish." I scoff but smile as I see him smiling too.

I look down at him and gulp when I see the outline of his cock. "Don't worry baby, you're so wet for me It will fit without any trouble." He grabs my ankles and pulls me towards the edge of the bed. He places my legs over his shoulders, groaning again. " If I knew all these things about you I would have fucked you way earlier. For example how flexible you are." I giggle and raise my eyebrows. "I have a lot more hidden talents." "I bet." he says with a heavy breath, taking his cock into his hand and teasing my clit with his tip, brushing it over it again and again. "Mattheo.." I whine, desperate to feel him.

"I want you to beg me, just likee the little whore you are." he grins wickedly at me, using my words against me. he starts dragging his tip over my pussy, pushing it against my entrance but not enough to enter me. "Please fuck me Mattheo, please. I need to feel you, please."

He doesn't waste a second, pushing his whole length into me. "Oh my god!" I almost scream, feeling him in places I thought would't even be possible. Mattheo groans, squeezing his eyes shut, his mouth wide open. "Oh you're so fucking tight, unbelievable." He starts moving his hips in a fast pace, thrusting harder against me every time a moan or whine leaves my lips.

"You feel so good - so fucking good inside of me - fuck." I star babbling, only spurting Mattheo on. "Yeah baby, that's it. Just feel how my cock feels inside you tight little cunt. Such a pretty pussy for me." I let out a loud whine and start to claw into his back.

"Harder." he groans, his left hand finding it way around my throat. I dig my nails deeper into his skin making him chuckle deeply and smile down at me with dark eyes. Oh shit. His grip around my throat tightens, making me even wetter, " You like that, baby? Who would have thought that our little angel is such a whore for me huh?"

His hips start to move even faster than before, hitting my cervix at some point. "Oh Mattheo -" I choke out between some broken sobs. I don't know when the last time was where someone fucked me this good.

He laughs like the devil himself and says "what baby? thought you do't want me hm?" I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel a deep feeling inside my tummy. "Fuck I feel your little pussy squeezing me, you're close?" I just nod and gasp.

He slowly down to which I whine in protest. "No, no please Mattheo. Don't stop, please." I beg him without a second thought.

"Tell me you hate me again. Come on." I shake my head and groan in frustration. "Why not?" "I - I can't" He grins in satisfaction and picks up the pace from before. My walls start clenching around him, my hips buckling up against him widely and without a rhythm. "Scream my name." Mattheo." "Louder, fucking louder so they hear how we talked about our problems." he grins. "Fuck, Mattheo!" Then it hits me, like a wave crashing over me when I come around his cock, spasming around him.

"God you're milking me, baby." he moans when he feels me around him. While my head get's dizzy and I only see starts around me, he gets even faster and rougher, making me whimper now that I'm so sensitive. "Fucking come again." he demands, his tone deeper now. " I - I can't Mattheo. I'm so sensitive." I whimper when he rubs my clit again and fucks me shard that the headboard of the bed crushes against the wall. Oh they could definitely hear us.

"I promise you can baby, come on, It will feel so good princess. Just one more, for me." he says, working his finger so delicious against me. My lip trembles when he pulls a second orgasm from me, leaving me a whimpering mess under him. "Fuck yes, yes." His movements lose their rhythm, pumping his cock into me with zero control.

"Nhg baby I'm gonna come - fuck - where -" "come inside me." I say, still feeling like I'm on a cloud. He let's out a quite whimper before coming, but I still heard it. Then I feel his hot cum inside me, his body falling on top of mine while he still ruts against me. "Shit.." he breathes out heavily when he slowly comes down from his high.

I see him swallowing when he looks down at me. "I'm gonna die If this is a one - time thing." he says, making my heart miss a beat.

"It's not." I whisper against his lips before kissing him with a smile. He slowly pulls out of me, we both look down. I see him smirking when his cum leaks out of me.

Suddenly the door opens, both of our heads turning towards it. We see our friends standing in the doorway with confused looks and mouth wide open. The only one that looked smug about it was Draco. " Told you so." he chuckles. "Wow.." Enzo whispers looking at us. "I think I hate you too, y/n." he says. Mattheo pulls the bedsheets over us and growls at him. " You wish." "What the fuck! Why on my bed?" Theo yells, making all of us burst out in laughter.

Thank you for reading! I think this is one of my favorites I wrote 😭🫶🏻

Let me know If you liked it! <3

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[sweetestdesire]

ENVY’S A BITCH

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, choking kink, degrading speech, mentions of cheating, spit kink, possessive behavior, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): John Marino x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader’s flirtations with a certain Hughes angers her boyfriend, John Marino.

Y/N knew that John was angry even before he spoke. Even before he looked at her. The muscles in his jaw flexed and he seethed, his energy washing over her like a bucket of hot water. The silence in the room was so complete that it hummed, where normally the home was filled with joyful noise when her man walked in.

She stood and crossed over to him, gently resting her fingers across his warm chest, feeling his angry, pounding heartbeat as she rose onto her toes to press a cautious kiss to his tense jaw. "Welcome home, baby. How was your day?" Y/N asked in as casual a voice as she could muster.

"I spoke with Jack today." John said, turning away and sliding his jacket off his shoulders. In that moment, when fear and dread climbed like bile in her throat, she noticed that he had never looked so beautiful. He loomed over her, fingertips barely brushing over her inner wrists, and she took a step back with a nervous stammer.

Jack Hughes had been in love with her for years. Constantly, she denied him, over and over again. Her feelings were strong towards John and those feelings would never fade away, especially over somebody like Jack. But he was always there, flattering her, flirting with her. Some might go to an extent to say that he's completely obsessed with her. Everybody knew that Y/N was completely off limits, but Jack turned a blind eye over the fact that she was taken and continued to be absolutely relentless.

"Oh." Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She took another step back and John followed, guiding her until she reached the corner and could no longer escape.

"Going somewhere?" He teased and moved in close, tenderly taking her left wrist in his right hand and gently lifting it over her head to pin it against the wall, eliciting a soft sound from Y/N. He held her there and gazed into her eyes for a moment, and her heart skipped another beat.

"What did he say?" Y/N asked, her voice small.

“I think you know." John said. His voice was quiet, almost tremulous.

"I love you." Y/N whispered.

"You kissed him."

"He was being so insistent, John. I thought it might satisfy him enough to let it go for a while."

The pain in his eyes hardened into anger. "Don't lie to me. You think I don't know what a tease you are? I, of all people, should know how much you love to get guys hard just to laugh it off like a joke."

Y/N shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. He had never been angry at her before, and the ice in his words frightened her to the bone.

"Did you enjoy kissing him?"

"No." Suddenly, she felt a stinging smack against her ass and the sound of it rang through the silent room.

"How can I touch you now? Knowing he's had his hands on you. Knowing you let him put his hands on you?"

"I'm so sorry, John." She whispered, shakily.

"That doesn't answer my question. How can I touch you? Him of all people, Y/N. He should be thanking whatever God he believes in that he's even alive after the shit he told me today."

She was silent for a moment, as she feared that he might leave her over this. John took a sharp, deep breath before speaking again. "You were so pleased about being wanted that you let it go on. Have I failed to make you feel wanted? Have you ever doubted me?"

Y/N looked down to the floor, avoiding eye contact. It was true. What he said was true. She couldn't bear the betrayal in his voice. He grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. His own eyes were a shade darker, shimmering with restrained tears.

"Well?" John whispered, his grip on her chin still so fierce. She always knew he was strong, but she had never felt it first hand before.

"John, I was just…" Y/N tried to muster, but she got caught on her own tongue.

"Just remembering that you're mine." John answered for her and pressed his lips to her exposed neck. He kept the kiss soft and breathed in her intoxicating scent as she shuddered again and arched a little toward him.

"Yes." Y/N breathed out softly, eyes wide and slightly glazed.

John smirked and traced his fingertips down her left arm to caress her cheek, raising up to loom over her and stare down into her beautiful eyes. “You’re mine.” He whispered.

Y/N’s cheeks burned and she knew that they must be completely red now. Her eyes widened again and she could feel that her pulse hammered visibly in her neck. John swallowed his growing hunger and took a half step back. She struggled to breathe as he stared down into her eyes and slowly unbuttoned her blouse from the top down, exposing more and more of her skin. Her body tensed with each button and her breasts quivered in anticipation.

As the last button slipped free, John guided the blouse open to bare her stomach and black lace bra to the cool air. His eyes never left hers until he took a step back and purposefully dragged his gaze down her body, drinking in the luscious sight. He smiled and nodded in approval as she remained still while he looked upon her.

Finally, John stepped forward once more and reached up to take her wrists in his hands again, slowly lowering them to her sides as he leaned in to softly press his lips to hers in the smallest hint of a kiss. Y/N shivered lightly as he loomed over her again.

"Open your mouth, and keep it open until I say so.” He commanded. “Keep your eyes on me."

Catching her by surprise, John spit right into her open mouth. Her eyes widened in shock when the warmth of his spit hit her tongue, the sweet, salty taste triggering the faintest, but definitely noticed moan.

“If you want to act like a whore, I'll fucking treat you like a whore." John hissed, tightening his grip on her wrists, causing Y/N to shudder and whimper.

The vulnerable sound shifted to a gasp when he stepped back once more and spun her around to face the corner. He lifted his hands to her shoulders and guided her blouse down her arms, stopping with it at the small of her back, keeping her wrists bound to her side.

“Tonight, I’m in control." John said, and pressed his lips to the bared flesh of her shoulder and neck. A light nip sent her head falling back and she mewled again.

"I want to touch you.” Y/N somehow made out, but instinctively kept her wrists at her side.

"You’re being punished, remember? I don't like sharing what's mine." He growled.

John continued to kiss her, his lips moving back down her neck and over her shoulder as he dropped the blouse to the floor and lifted her wrists once again. She pressed her wrists against the wall and moaned as John’s lips moved back and forth over her sensitive skin.

Y/N shuddered when he traced back down her arms and sides to stop on her waist. His hands slid around to the front to unbutton and unzipped her jeans, causing her eyes to widen again as he casually pushed them over her hips and down to join her blouse on the floor.

"John." She breathed.

He stepped back to eye her again, eager to imprint the sight of her body on his mind. He took special note of the lacy, black boyshorts, silky and tight against curves of her hips and ass. Eyes never leaving that amazing view, John reached out and unclasped her bra.

"Turn around."

Y/N could feel the pounding of her heart and flushed an even deeper red. She turned slowly, keenly aware of how precariously her bra draped over her breasts. John looked down into her eyes and met her gaze with a smile. Reaching up to her shoulders, he slowly guided the bra straps down her arms. He leaned forward as he did, kissing her neck and softly sucking on the tender flesh.

Her heart pounded furiously and she couldn't help but arch her hips toward him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed her head falling back. John took full advantage of her offering and nuzzled deeply into her neck. Reaching down, he took her hands in his and pinned them to the wall above her head.

"You belong to me, Y/N." John whispered and pressed his teeth to her skin, slowly biting down as his hips met hers and pinned them to the wall.

The words made Y/N shudder, and she ached to arch her hips again. Her heart raced. Her body writhed as much as the press of his against hers would allow. She grew more and more needy by the second, and the touch of his teeth to her tender neck made her mewl and breathe harshly. John met her desperate sound with a low growl and rolled his hips into her. He dragged his tongue over her flesh, tasting her surrender, and clenched his jaw. His teeth sunk into her neck, marking his territory.

Y/N moaned and bucked into his body, gasping and writhing against him, the sensation so intense. She could feel her panties becoming soaked. He flinched at her moan, the sound loud but delicious in his ear, and relaxed his jaw. He nuzzled into her neck, softly kissing the pained flesh as the blood rushed back to her skin.

A memory flashed before her eyes of how she'd felt when Jack flirted with her. Beautiful and desired. She remembered how she had liked it. What an idiot she had been. No other man in the world could know her like John did. No one knew how and where and when to touch her to send her into ecstasy.

John began to walk backwards, pulling her with him by her hands. She stumbled with him as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Staring up into her eyes, he kissed all around her navel and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties. She shivered and bit her lower lip, gripping his shoulders tightly, as he slid the panties to the floor.

As soon as the panties dropped, John reached for her wrists, guiding them back to her sides. “I'm not done.” He spoke softly, but the words were heavy with force.

Still looking into her eyes, he bent lower and began kissing over her mound, causing Y/N to whimper and then sharply cry out his name when the tip of his tongue traced down her slit.

"Hands above your head.” John breathed out against her skin, and she instantly complied, raising her hands and lacing her fingers together.

"Shit.” She whimpered again as his tongue stretched lower, dragging over her clit.

John gripped her hips tightly as she cried out his name once more and jerked toward his mouth. He alternated between kissing over her mound and flicking his tongue over her clit, never letting her focus on one sensation for long.

Trusting her to keep her hands above her head as she was told, John slid one hand around to sink strong fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. His other hand moved up her chest, closing over her right breast to knead softly. Y/N gasped and trembled against his hold.

"You’re so fucking wet for me, baby. Isn't this all you need?" Her heart leapt at the hint of a satisfied smile in John’s tone. Yes, she was. Her body was his, it belonged to him.

"Yes." Y/N breathed. John’s nostrils flared as her scent flooded the room. He ducked his head lower, lapping at the juices coating her lips, moaning hungrily. "Please, John. I need you so bad." She cried.

He jerked at her cry and pushed her back away from him. Taking a calming breath, he stood before her, body so impossibly close to hers. John stared down into her eyes with barely contained hunger and she stumbled back a step, breathing harshly and mewling almost steadily now. Y/N trembled as he walked around her, his eyes raking over her naked, vulnerable body.

"Get down on your knees." John demanded. A dangerous smirk danced across his lips. His hand motioned towards her face where it gently caressed her cheek, allowing his thumb to venture into the warm spot between her soft lips. "You're my devoted little whore, and you do anything I say with a smile on those sweet cock-sucking lips, don't you?"

Y/N nodded, feverishly and with zero hesitation. Her eyes looked up adoringly, and her tongue flicked against the thumb he held between her lips, fighting the urge to completely envelop it with the wetness of her mouth, and suck on it like she wanted to suck on something else.

"On the bed. Now.” John commanded, swiftly removing his thumb away from her quivering mouth. She obeyed, immediately crawling backward onto it.

He watched her go, and began to strip. Down went his shirt, jeans, and finally his boxers. She watched with open lust, her breath catching as each peace of clothing hit the floor.

"I need to touch you.” Y/N whined.

John sweetly smiled and walked to the bed. He stood towering over her naked body and she could see the throbbing of his erect cock. She moaned loudly as he took her hand in his and guided it to his thick shaft. “Go on, then.”

Her fingers instantly wrapped around him and squeezed lightly, stroking along his length up and down, watching John with wide eyes. Her touch was magic, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response. His head rolled back and his hips rocked forward. A surge of pre-cum wet the tip of his cock, dripping over her fingers.

"Fuck, Y/N.” John breathed out.

She couldn't wait any longer. "I need you inside me.” Y/N whispered and rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock. She tightened her grip and stroked faster, the action making her shudder just as much John was. Her hips shifted restlessly on the bed in anticipation.

"And I need inside you.” came the growled reply. John gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her hand away. In a flash he was on her, pushing her back onto the bed, climbing over her. He dipped his hips between her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him, and he locked gazes with her.

"I need inside you," John whispered again, "because you’re mine.” He pinned her hands above her head. "Only mine."

Y/N gasped in shock and bucked her hips up toward his, willing him to enter her. His words made her mewl again and again, and she nodded emphatically, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. "I'm yours, John.” She murmured and writhed, her heart racing so fast that she could feel her entire body pulsing.

"Again." John adjusted his hips and shifted them forward. His bulbous head parted her lips and began sinking into her, causing her to cry out in shock. He moaned and shuddered, but refused to relent. "Tell me again."

Y/N threw her head back, clenching and arching into him desperately. He filled her so deeply already and she was absolutely gushing with wetness. “I'm yours.” She exclaimed. "You own me, and I belong to you."

"So sweet." John bucked the last little distance, slamming his cock fully into her and rotating his hips. "So tender." He pulled back slowly and slammed in again. "So utterly and completely mine."

When his hand settled down onto her neck and his thick cock pushed inside of her, she couldn't contain a sob of relief. She felt thoroughly owned, glowing with the thrill of being possessed by a man such as John. He squeezed her neck as he slowly and persistently drove his cock in and out of her.

"You're so tight, so fucking good." John groaned into her ear as he let the pleasure over take him. "Jack only wishes he could fuck you like this, but no one knows how to fuck you the way I can. No one can pleasure you the way I can."

Y/N's legs started to tremble and shake as nothing but whimpers left her lips. She was nearing her release at his words. Her eyes closed, taking in all the pleasure, his touch overpowering her whole body. Her mouth could only form whimpers and moans and she knew this was music to John’s ears.

His forehead rested against her temple and he rasped into her ear, his voice gravelly and dark. "Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

"You, John." She repeated the word with every deep thrust that brought her closer to her orgasm.

"That's my girl. You're mine. No one else's. Only I can touch you like this. I'm the only one who can touch you, and fuck you until you only know my name. Do you understand?" John slammed into her, fucking her mercilessly and tightening his grip around her throat.

"Yes." Y/N nodded as her body began trembling as he quickened his pace. John buried his face in her neck, biting again and again, intent on marking her once more.

His teeth were just too much. She couldn't bear any more. Unable to stop the sensations from ripping through her, she screamed out his name again, cumming for him. John tightened his grip on her throat and stared down at her body, wracked in pleasure.

"Good girl." His voice sounded far in the distance despite their closeness, his praise only heightening her climax.

John pressed his forehead to hers, slamming his cock hard into her pussy once more. He planted his full length deep inside her, grinding, and suddenly arched his back with a primal shout, cumming hard and leaving his mark on her pussy. As the near painful pleasure began to subside, he breathlessly found her mouth with his, kissing her hard. His sweat dripped down to her body, leaving yet another mark of his claim upon her.

Pulling away, John rested his head on her breast and she toyed her fingers through his hair. Y/N didn't know what to say. He was always such a gentle lover. She had never known this side of him. When he rolled off of her but then clutched her to his side in a tight embrace, she began to recognize him again. She nuzzled into his chest, feeling as luxurious and content as a purring cat.

"Never leave me." John whispered against her hair, smoothing a hand over the line of her spine. She was flushed and sweaty, but still so beautiful when she glanced over her bare shoulder at him.

"I'm yours." Y/N said. "Always."

[steviewashere]

Balls in Laundry Baskets: An Apology

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Bitchy/Mean Steve Harrington, Mean Eddie Munson (Both Briefly and For Good Reason) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Friendship, Eddie Munson Gets Put in His Place, Lucas Sinclair is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Protective Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Lucas Sinclair, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Means Well He's Just Defensive, Hurt People Hurt Others

This is chapter one, which also includes the first two pages that I already posted. Please keep your expectations low, as I'm still working on the second and final chapter.

Read on AO3

🏀—————🏀 “So, you and Eddie, huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he’s been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair!” He yelps. Holds his right palm flat against his chest, trying his best to rescind the spike of panic that is crawling through him. “I thought I told you to quit doing that,” he harshly whispers, rubbing his palm against his shirt. The scratchy material of his polo a balm against his nerves.

“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”

Lucas shrugs. “You can do whatever you want,” he states, but Steve can already tell there’s somehow more. “But I didn’t think you two would be…buddies. Considering how he feels about, y’know, sports and whatever.”

For a moment, Steve considers Lucas’s approach. His fidgeting hands and his slightly closed off eyes. The hunch to his shoulders and the general unease that accompanies talking about Eddie. Which, that’s particularly odd. Aren’t they buddies, Steve questions himself. Wrapped up in the Hellfire club, their mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons, the ragtag group of nerds that they are—all of that is perfect for their oddball friendship, at least Steve thought so.

“What’s wrong with you and Eddie?” Steve asks, beating around the bush. He doesn’t do cryptic. And he especially doesn’t do it with somebody like Lucas, a kid already smarter than him by several margins.

There isn’t an answer right away. But Lucas’s shoulders drop. His eyes go from frustrated to…sad. “Remember my championship game?” He asks, though it seems a bit much of a topic change. What does this have to do with Eddie, Steve has to wonder.

“Well, yeah,” he answers instead, “I was there. Had a pathetic date with a girl I hardly enjoyed being around. Mocked Tammy Thompson with Robin. Watched you get that winning shot. It was a, genuinely, awesome championship game.” And that’s the truth. It’s the best one he’s ever witnessed. Which is saying something, considering he’d played several championship games. All of them, though, were major losses. He’ll take those to the grave with him, with how often his previous basketball teams teased him.

Lucas gives a harsh single nod, a small smile that whisks away as soon as it appears. “Right,” he mutters, “I remember.” He leans against the Beemer’s bumper, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. Looks forlorn towards the high school’s doors, where Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire bunch should be spilling out any moment now. Steve looks on with him. Listens as Lucas’s voice drops low, nearly angry, fully spiteful, “I begged Dustin and Mike to talk to Eddie about my game. To see if the Hellfire campaign—which would be happening the same night—could be moved. And I, look, I understand that D&D means a lot to all of them, it means something to me, too. But I was really hoping to see my friends there. If not my friends, then at least Erica.

“They didn’t move the campaign,” he states so bitter, Steve tastes the words on his own tongue, “apparently a game where you’re shooting ‘balls into laundry baskets’ is too…mainstream and norm-ie for Eddie. He refused to move his precious game. Then, get this, instead of getting some random kid to play, they egged Erica in.” Lucas drags his eyes away from the school, head turning slow to look at Steve. He follows suit, eyeing Lucas back. His stomach churns with the vitriol painting itself unsubtly across Lucas’s face. “Color me surprised, I guess, that he’s going out with a jock,” he states, voice carefully blank of anything.

Steve stares on at him. He didn’t know this was the case at all. Remembers getting the phone call about Dustin wanting him to play, but he figured that had something to do with him bugging Steve for the millionth time. Because that was something Dustin wanted. For Steve to play. And, granted, Steve refused because it was too nerdy—unimportant and embarrassing. Yet, now he’s looking into Lucas’s face. Where hurt etches itself like solid lines of chiseled marble. Being told, instead, that Eddie’s holding his own bias.

Maybe he hasn’t removed his biases towards high school nerds, not completely. But he’s coming undone from that mentality. Considering Nancy and Robin and Eddie—Dustin and Mike and Lucas—even Max, they’re all big nerds. They all have some sort of interest with Dungeons & Dragons or theater or video games and math. And he loves them all. Though, Steve’s never stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin. Tail-side, where balls in laundry baskets is considered taboo.

After a deep silence when Steve finally digests this information, his eyebrows furrow on their own accord. Mouth downturning into a harsh frown, one that he feels to the bottoms of his feet. He stops himself in time from balling his hands into fists, but the urge to do so snarls in him like a newly unmuzzled, wild dog. A dog, he thought, that he trained obedient away from his anger. But it seems like once the teeth are bared, they never truly hide away.

“That ass,” Steve snarks. “What—so I have to reconsider all my biases surrounding nerds, reconstruct how I view everybody around me, and realize how awesome it is. And—what—Eddie can just get away with that…bullshit? That’s…What the hell?” There’s a little bit more of a bite to his words than he had anticipated. But it really isn’t fair. The table turns and he’s better for it, sure, but Eddie just…That’s not fair. The dog growls louder, drool burbling in its chops, a bark forming in the back of its throat.

“That’s what I thought,” Lucas says, “and I know, I know, that Dustin and Mike tried everything in their power. And that Eddie was the one to, y’know, be the asshole. But I thought that maybe my friends would be on my side. That they’d skip the game, show Eddie up. Not get my little sister involved or have fun without me or…I don’t know.” And the way he says those last three words stings something acidic inside of Steve. Corrosion and battery acid hot and alive in his stomach. Anger reaching the surface of his skin, words crawling and resonating in his mouth. 

The doors to the school open distantly and Lucas suddenly perks back up, blossoming from where he was wilted against Steve’s car. “Doesn’t matter,” he chirps, though it’s all fake, “at least I can play with them now, which is awesome.”

But before he can stride away, to where his bike is parked and locked up, Steve snakes a hand onto Lucas’s wrist. They lock eyes again. “I’ll talk to him,” Steve swears, “he’ll apologize.”

“Steve, you don’t—“

“You used sports as a means to fit in, right? Granted, popularity’s not all that cool and you know that especially now. But it was a…a—“ He snaps his fingers, searching for the word. “—A cover, something to find security in. And you had that. And that’s what the D&D game is to Eddie. Sports is my D&D, too.” He loosens his grip on Lucas’s arm. Neither make any sort of move. “Just because you were trying to find your people doesn’t mean you can be…” He chooses his next words carefully. “Ostracized or outcast by those who you found safety with before. Especially when those guys orbit around each other for the same reason. I’ll talk to him,” he urges, “and he will apologize, or else.”

Lucas gives him a softened look. “Thanks, Steve,” he mutters, “I wasn’t looking to start anything, but I appreciate you having my back. It really means a lot.” And then he shuffles away, towards his bicycle, small chat starting up with Mike and Dustin.

When Steve turns back towards the school, Eddie is sauntering towards him. Eyes wide. Smile big and easy. Yet, his soft features are all too nauseating to Steve’s chest right now. His heart aches. If Eddie thinks of Lucas’s interests that way, what does he think of mine?

He tamps down his annoyance and anger. Because Eddie takes his hand and is looking at him as if the world belongs to the two of them. But that hurt on Lucas’s face is like a dagger impaled in his brain when Eddie greets nice and low, “Hi, baby. Been thinking about you the entire time I was in there.”

Steve smiles, though it may come off as more of a grimace with how Eddie falters. “Been thinking about you, too,” he echoes. Though, thinking positively isn’t what he’s been doing, as far as anybody’s concerned. Beat around the bush, he tells himself. He takes a steadying breath, posture straightening, demeanor changing. Says with a sour tone, “I, uh, I think we need to have a little talk in the car, if that’s okay? It’s not a breakup thing, but it might make you…somebody might get mad and I don’t want to cage you in at my house.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. His eyes go distant very briefly. When he refocuses on Steve, something has hardened in his features. Steve’s throat goes tight. “It can’t wait until after our date night?” There’s a low amount of ire in his words already and Steve is momentarily caught in it. Until he lets his eyebrows scrunch down his face again, giving in to that tightness in his throat.

He sighs, annoyed already. “No, Eddie,” he bites without meaning to. “I need to talk to you now. I’m already upset about it and it’s not going to do me any good to just brush it off.” His hand releases from Eddie’s grip, falling heavy against his side. He turns towards his driver’s side door and stares back at where Eddie is rooted. “Come on,” he states lowly, “you were the one to tell me to talk about the shit that’s bothering me. Can’t ignore it just because it has to do with you.”

Bitchy is probably not the best approach to all of this, but Steve is already cornered out of options. He pulls his door open with more force than necessary. Slides into his seat, key into the ignition, and honks once at Eddie. Jarringly gestures at the passenger seat. Thankfully, there’s nobody else to witness the potential torrential fire that’s brewing in him. It’ll be just the two of them; though that realization stirs something sickly in Steve’s stomach.

Eddie gets in silently. Places his school bag in the footwell. And keeps his face pointed out the windshield. “What’s wrong?” He asks, though his voice is devoid and edging on irritated.

Steve rolls his eyes, though Eddie can’t see him. He sets his hands firmly on his steering wheel. Squeezes the leather for comfort, an instinct. And heaves a sigh, urging himself to be calmer about this. “I had a talk with Lucas,” he starts. “About, uh, about his championship game back in March.”

Next to him, Eddie immediately tenses.

He continues without acknowledgement. Keeps himself as leveled as possible. “He told me that you refused to move your game for his. That he was looking forward to having his friends, which I’m assuming includes you, watch him play. And I—I know how important that championship game was to him. Y’know, it’s one of the bigger—“

“Are you mad because I didn’t want to sit at some jock event?” Eddie interrupts, question clipped. Though there’s also mild amusement in his tone, as if Steve being upset is poposterous. He continues without any regard for Steve. “In a room full of, mind you, people who hate me?”

Steve tenses more than Eddie had. His shoulders hiking and his stomach knotting impossibly more. Finally lets the dog bark, gives in to whatever it wants. “You know what, Eddie?” He bitches back. “I am mad at you. In fact, I…I…I’m so fucking angry that you…you make this whole deal about ‘lost sheep’ and herding them in to play your game. You concern yourself with making a community for people who are lost to the crowd of cliques in that school. And it’s just—Lucas is one of those kids! He is, even if that means he wants to play basketball!”

The passenger seat squeaks. Clothes rustling as Eddie turns toward him. But Steve doesn’t rip his eyes from the windshield. If anything, he leans more towards the left, creating a deeper, larger space between them. His hands instinctively tighten on the steering wheel again.

“Yeah, I do pride myself on that,” Eddie spits. “I do. Which is why, honestly, it irks me that Lucas would pick a crowd full of assholes. A bunch of people who would never give him the time of day.”

Steve goes rigid at that. He was an asshole, too. He knows that. Eddie especially knows that. The Munson Doctrine wouldn’t exist without the inclusion of asshole jocks, Steve being near the top of the list. He tries to tell himself that Eddie doesn’t think of him that way, but it’s hard considering himself. Who he used to be. Instead, he takes another breath, this one longer and hopefully more steadying than the other ones have been.

“He went out for basketball for a sense of security,” Steve states slowly, verging on impatient. “To find somewhere to belong to. That’s all a freshman looks for—a group to be somebody with. And, you know, considering that he’s already sort of singled out for being one of a few black kids at the school…Belonging is kind of important to him.” He settles back into his seat, arms still stretched to their full length in front of him. His stomach is turning and his heart is racing. And why won’t Eddie just get this? “Even if the basketball team has a bunch of assholes, he still wanted to do it. He was celebrated for his skills, who he is—even if it was for a moment. Playing was, and probably still is, important to him. And you—“ Steve finally turns his head towards Eddie. Knows his eyes are shooting daggers, can see where they lodge themselves between Eddie’s ribs. He raises a finger and accuses, “—you made his game feel unimportant. None of his best friends came because they were toopreoccupied with your game.” His face grows unusually hot as his voice drags passionately. The words just tumbling, splattering between them. But he carries on like a fire fed, “They even got his little sister to play yourgame. And, you know what really hurt to hear? Lucas wanted at least Erica to watch. And she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there because of your game, Eddie. How do you think that looks to him?”

Eddie has the audacity to look cowed, appalled. His mouth agape and his eyes as two large craters on his face. And for the first time, probably ever, he is stunned into silence.

Steve looks away. Bitter. All that festers in him now is hurt, ache, sadness. He chews on his lip, inhales softly through his nose, and opens his mouth with a silent word. Finally, he murmurs, “When I came to the high school as a freshman, I did the exact same thing as Lucas did. I joined the basketball team. Not because I was good. Or because my dad forced me to, like everybody seems to think. It’s because I wanted to fit in.”

His eyes are stinging. Cheeks flushing even more with overwhelming, consuming emotion. Continues, “And, though I let the feeling eat away at me, it felt good to be protected by a camaraderie like that. Outside of the nerdy friend group I had in middle school, going into high school. It felt good. And—It’s not the same as why Lucas joined, I know that, but I can understand.

“On top of that, I never had friends or family members show up for me at my games. So, for me to know the hurt Lucas feels, that would be an understatement. What’s important to note, though, is that he had people in his life to be there for him and they didn’t show. They didn’t.”

The fight is draining out of him, but he has to solidify his point. Has to finish this or else. Thinks briefly that maybe he should quit while he’s ahead, but he can’t make himself do that. The ferocity engulfing him from the inside out all too much to ignore. He’s been beaten down before for Lucas, literally—oh so literally—but he’d do it again and again and again for that kid to find his footing. Including this…spat? One sided argument? This argument with his boyfriend. 

“Even I was there,” he says, hollowly, “cheering him on. It just would’ve been nice, for him, to have more than just some washed up, ex-jock, nobody be there. Right? I’m sure you get where I’m coming from. You can understand what I’m saying.” He glances forlorn out his window. Can’t even muster the courage to look over at Eddie. He’s basically drained himself. Being vulnerable isn’t his forte, but he can be for the people around him. Even if it’s at the expense of his own well being. “Well, I thought you’d understand. Wanting to have a community, people to lean on, to make something of yourself. No matter the means. I just didn’t think you’d be part of the reason that Lucas feels so…so singular.”

He takes a deep breath, ignoring how nasally it is to his ears. And mutters, a final thing, “I didn’t think you viewed something that Lucas and I are into as so…nothing. I try my best to be better about what you like, but it seems that you don’t make that same effort. That’s not fair, Eddie. You should know that.”

Without much else to say and with Eddie’s eerie silence, he starts the car. Puts it into drive. And peels away into the silence of the long and stretching road.

Briefly, he thinks about turning on the radio or cranking down the window, but the air is too thick to move through. Even the slight turns of his steering wheel is enough to make him feel sick. He’s sick with how disgustingly to-the-point he had to be. Though, there’s no other way that Eddie would’ve listened. Not with how defensive he immediately got.

The original date night plan had been to go to his house, but he finds himself pulling into Forest Hills’ driveway. Past the dimly lit trailers and the striking quietness of Max’s home. He parks in the vacant spot next to Eddie’s van. Which, the van is broken down right now—the main reason Steve is even driving Eddie around. But, now what? Is Eddie mad at how mad Steve was? Is he going to realize that he doesn’t like Steve because of his interests, who he is? Is this it?

A gentle anxious thrum runs through Steve like the very blood he needs to exist.

He silences the car. And just sits with his hands in his lap. Looking blankly at Eddie’s front door.

“Your stop,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs heavily through his nose. But he doesn’t make a move to open his door. To step out. To walk away from…all that Steve is and has been.

Steve turns to him, gestures loosely at the Munson’s. “Your stop,” he reiterates.

“I—“ Eddie musters, voice croaking and rough. “I didn’t realize that…I didn’t know Lucas was mad about that. I didn’t think it…mattered.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Steve bitterly states, “It’s not like you actually cared.”

“But I do,” Eddie insists, “I care so much about Lucas. And I care so much about you. I swear!” He finally moves, tossing himself in the seat to face Steve, flailing. His face a mournful thing, downturned and sad. Skin pale and his hands desperate and his voice urgent. “There’s no excuse, I know. But I just…The reason I look at jocks so awfully is because they’ve always turned on me, you know? They always downplay my interests and mock me and tease me for what I like. Which is why I have to show myself as the bigger guy, that I can take it. I just didn’t realize that I was doing it, too.”

Slowly, Steve crosses his arms over his chest. Fingers tightening over his biceps. “Real life and your friends are more important than biases, Eddie.”

“I see that now.”

“And I think that you…you love me? And that you like Lucas. But it’s just hard to feel that, for either of us, when you adamantly refuse to involve yourself in our interests. Even if it means attending some jock event. Even if it means sitting in a room full of people that hate you. Which, by the way, that isn’t true because Lucas and I both like you—I love you, even.” He faces Eddie again. His face a sure thing of great ache, based on Eddie’s own crestfallen eyes. “Maybe just…give us space for a couple days? Think about this. Apologize once you’ve given it some thought. I understand where the whole hating jocks thing comes from, but just think about how that hurts, too.”

Eddie takes a gasping breath. “But I’m sorry now, Stevie,” he swears, “I am. I’m so sorry.”

There’s part of those words that soothe Steve like aloe to a sunburn, but he can’t accept them. Knows that the sure sting of the burn will still be there if he lets Eddie do this now. So he collects himself, mulls the words, and defends himself—for once. “I’ll accept that when it doesn’t feel like you’re saying it just to make me feel better. I want you to mean it. And I want you to apologize to Lucas first.”

He watches Eddie nod fervently, sharply. His hands twisting together in his lap and his eyes wetting, shoved harshly to the side. “Yeah, okay,” his voice trembles, “okay, I’ll fix this.”

Carefully, Steve takes Eddie’s hands. Tugs them until Eddie looks at him. Involuntarily, he makes a soft, sympathetic noise. It’s clear in the wetness of Eddie’s eyes that he’s determined to change this, to make this better. It’s clear that he didn’t mean to hurt this severely. He presses deep into the back of Eddie’s hands, tethering himself down to the earth, away from the cloud of anger that threatens to swallow him whole. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, “listen to me, baby. I know that you’re sorry. I know, okay? But Lucas won’t know that, he’ll probably think you’re saying it to get on his good side. And…maybe you are, a bit, but it’ll be better if you really mean it. Trust me.” He swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s knuckles, massages them to ease the tension. “I still love you. I’m still learning, too, to love your interests with my full heart. And I know that it’s hard to let go of stupid biases, but you’ll be better for it. You will, Eds, and you’ll find you actually feel good.” Steve runs his hands up Eddie’s arms, to his shoulders, the sides of his neck.

Gently, he cups Eddie’s face between his hands. Presses his thumbs underneath Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie softens, loosening. Breathes slowly onto Steve’s wrists. “I’ll make this right, Steve,” he promises quietly, “I want to love both of you guys right.”

“I believe you,” he whispers in turn, “you’re a good guy, Eddie. You’ve got a good soul and a good heart. But you just need to relearn some things, baby.” He leans in, softly pecks the soft tissue of Eddie’s facial scar, and pulls away. Reaches up and runs a hand through the wiry ends of Eddie’s curls. Finds that he does mean the softness in his words, even with the bitter edge in his chest. He murmurs, “Let’s cool off tonight, because I know we’re both upset. And we’ll reconvene in a couple days, after my shift. I’ll help you come up with a good apology, promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie mutters, sniffling.

“I love you,” he feels the need to remind.

“I love you, too, Stevie. And I mean that. I really do.”

🏀—————🏀

Taglist (Open For Chapter Two): @wonderland-girl143-blog @tinyplanet95 @sharingisntkaren @ghostquer @practicallybegging @croatoan-like-its-hot @reinedslys-central

[cobrakaisb]

come one, come all

summary: percy jackson has finally arrived at camp half-blood, so why is he so shocked to see that people have genuine relationships here? aka, the four times percy thought you were dating luke, and the one time he actually asked. 

word count: 3.2k

featuring: percy pov!!, 4+1, vaping (again), sassy man apocalypse in the form of luke castellan, reader straight up not giving a fuck, percabeth crumbs (but you gotta squint)

author's note: i am so sorry for the delay with this one!! i was studying for finals, but now that i'm home from college for the summer, hopefully the updates will be more frequent 🤞

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

hermes cabin, day one, early afternoon

“this is the hermes cabin, home to both his children and the unclaimed,” chiron explains, walking up to the very loud and very rambunctious building. 

percy peers inside, and he’s immediately filled with dread. there’s barely enough room in the cabin for the people that actually live there, let alone him. why couldn’t his father claim him already? if anything, percy thought losing his mother would have been enough; clearly it wasn’t. his dread only intensifies, however, when chiron starts clapping his hands, calling the attention of all the campers. 

“woah wait a minute,” percy mumbles, but it’s too late. 

“this is percy jackson, i trust you will see to whatever he needs,” chiron announces. 

it takes the campers approximately two seconds to go back to whatever they were doing beforehand. some campers’ eyes linger a little bit longer on him, but for the most part, they’re all indifferent to his presence. finding a spot proves to be difficult, as every nook and cranny is inhabited.

“you can sleep over there,” a girl says, annoyed.

“thanks,” percy mumbles, but it falls on deaf ears. 

the spot isn’t half bad, but it isn’t great either. he’s stuck in between two sets of bunk beds, on a sleeping bag. a sleeping bag. one would think the gods could splurge a little for an air mattress, but percy guesses they must be selfish, at least based on the signs of this cabin: overrun, overfilled, and underdeveloped. he’s unpacking his backpack, the last remnants of his life before his mom explained his paternal lineage, when the whispers start. 

“that’s the kid. i think he’s the one that killed the minotaur,” someone whispers, or at least they try to, but percy hears the whole thing. 

he turns around, and comes face to face with a group of older campers, all boys. they’ve clearly been here a while (in the hermes cabin, or at camp, percy isn’t sure) based solely on the fact that they’re so comfortable in this environment. a tall, curly black-haired boy steps forward, so percy stands up. he tries to size up the older boy, but if it comes to a fight, he doesn’t think he’ll win. 

“look, if you guys want to start something, can you just…do it tomorrow?” he asks. 

the older boy doesn’t say anything. instead, he just takes a moment to look at percy, up and down. percy’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the long scar running from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. he’s intimidating, to say the least. 

“i’m..” the boy starts to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of loud laughter. 

percy turns to face the door, following the older boy’s lead, and sees two girls walk into the cabin. they’re both in workout gear, clearly just coming from a training session, but only one of them moves to drop her stuff on a bed — a bottom bunk in the left hand corner — and the other walks right up to the guy in front of him.

percy wants to warn her, tell her that she shouldn’t mess with this kid. but the grumpy guy smiles at her, completely forgetting about percy.

“busy day?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“something like that,” the boy mumbles, throwing a sideways glance in percy’s direction. 

“oh i see,” she answers slowly, and now both of their eyes are on him. 

“luke treating you okay?” she asks. 

percy gulps, unsure how to answer her. girls don’t really talk to him, but there’s a first time for everything, he understands that especially well now.  

“he literally just got here,” luke says, shoving your shoulder. 

you smile at the older boy, and there’s something more behind that stare, but percy can’t really figure out what. 

“if he steps out of line, you let me know,” she instructs, jabbing her thumb in luke’s direction. 

percy nods, “yeah sure.” 

she smiles at him, before walking towards the exit of the cabin. as she’s at the threshold between the inside and the outdoors, she turns around with a mischievous look in her eyes. 

“meet me later?” she asks. 

“i’ll be there,” luke answers. 

she nods, satisfied, and leaves. percy watches luke, who continues to watch her. his eyebrows furrow. maybe he just doesn’t understand teenagers?

hermes cabin, day two, morning

percy’s startled awake. the deep, guttural voice from his dream still haunting him. the darkness from the nightmare is looming over him like a dark cloud. his gasps and heavy breathing draw the attention of luke and his friends, the former leaving his bottom bunk to walk over to percy’s sleeping bag.  

“you okay?” luke asks. 

percy wonders if he’s genuinely concerned. “super,” he replies. 

“we all get them, y’know. deep, intense nightmares. comes with being a demigod,” luke explains, watching percy struggle to get up from his bed.

“so does adhd and dyslexia. they’re your battle instincts talking. everything that’s made you different, an outcast, is normal here,” luke continues to explain, now standing toe to toe with percy. 

there’s silence between the two. percy wants to ask him about his godly parent. it’s been weighing on him since he spoke with luke briefly yesterday. for some reason, however, he feels like the question is out of line, too personal for someone he just met. 

yet, he can’t help himself: “so are you also…do you not know…are you…”

“am i unclaimed? no, hermes is my father, but that doesn’t matter. we’re all family here,” luke replies, giving percy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“and the girl from last night…is she…?” percy asks. 

luke chuckles at his uncertainty, clearly finding humor in his embarrassing situation. “no. she knows who her mother is. you should ask her about it.” 

percy nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he feels angry all of a sudden looking around the hermes cabin. it’s filled to the brim with campers, some who know who their parents are, and others who don’t. he doesn’t think anyone should have to live like this; it’s not fair. 

“how can the gods just bring us here and ignore us? how is that fair?” percy asks. 

luke shakes his head, “spend all your time trying to figure out why the gods do what they do and you’ll go crazy. besides, you haven’t even experienced the best thing that camp has to offer.” 

“what’s that?” percy asks. 

“glory.”

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he vaguely remembers hearing mr. bruner, or chiron, talk about glory in class, but he can’t pinpoint the exact memory. the way luke talks about it, however, makes percy think that it must be important. there has to be some reason why everyone is fighting for glory, why they deal with all the dangers of being a demigod. 

“demigods used to fight for glory. they called it kleos. it attaches meaning to your name, making you bigger, scarier, and more important,” luke explains, leading percy outside of the hermes cabin, along with a handful of his friends. 

“it puts respect on your name,” luke’s friend, chris barges in. 

percy’s smiles at that. he likes the sound of glory, especially when some girl shoulders past him, pushing his body right into luke’s. percy stumbles, turning to face the back of the girl. he wasn’t going to deal with this bullying crap at summer camp of all places. 

“hey,” he shouts, getting her attention. 

she turns around, immediately shoving him into the ground. percy gasps, staring up at her in shock, but before she can get a word in, the girl from last night is standing in front of him. 

“knock it off clarisse. it’s like his first day,” luke mumbles. 

the girl from last night helps him up, and he smiles at her in thanks. she nods, giving him a once over, ensuring that he’s okay before her she turns back to clarisse. it’s like a switch flipped inside her. those same eyes, the ones showing kindness towards him just a mere second ago, are now filled with cold, hard, anger. 

clarisse says something to taunt him, but the girl just shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“jealous that it wasn’t you?” she taunts, stepping into clarisse’s personal space. 

“no,” clarisse snaps, facing the other girl head on. 

“really? cause it sounds like you wish you were standing in his shoes right now. maybe then daddy would give you a little bit of attention, huh?” she replies. 

luke whispers her name in a seething tone, hand pulling on her shoulder to move her away from clarisse. however, she jerks out of his grip, continuing to stare head on at the curly haired girl with a satisfied smirk playing at her lips. 

“you better watch your back,” clarisse snaps, looking at percy once again before storming off. 

“and you better watch yours,” the girl, who’s still standing in front of percy protectively answers. 

clarisse doesn’t respond, and so luke takes the time to reprimand you. his voice is soft, and percy can barely hear, let alone register, the words coming out of his mouth. you roll your eyes at whatever he’s saying, barely paying attention. instead, percy notices that your eyes aren’t leaving luke’s lips, and he’s again left wondering what’s going on between the two of you. 

“but if i wasn’t here, who was gonna play hero?” you ask, a soft pout on your lips.

percy can tell you’re teasing luke, trying to get a rise out of him, but the older boy just shakes his head in response. percy watches as your finger reaches under his bright orange shirt, looping through one of the belt loops of his cargoes. luke leans down slightly, and percy thinks he might kiss you, but you step away from him in a fit of giggles. 

“i’ll see you later, counselor luke,” you tease, walking backwards so everyone can see the teasing smile on your face. 

percy makes a mental note not to get on your bad 

side. 

dining pavilion, day two, evening

“is there a greek god of disappointment, maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” percy grumbles, taking a seat at the table across from luke and chris. 

after a long day of training, with little to no rewards, percy felt utterly defeated. there was some good that came out of the day’s events, however, as he realized his lack of coordination did not make him a strong candidate for the apollo cabin. similarly, setting fire to the already burning forges had luke and chris ruling out hephaestus. regardless, he just wanted his dad to recognize him. after a life of torment and the loss of his mom, the one person who loved him, he could use the validation.

luke opens his mouth, ready to answer his previous question, but chris beats him to it.

“oizys…but she’s a goddess and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s failure,” chris mumbles, pushing around the salad on his plate. 

“oh my gods chris, don’t scare the kid,” you shout, shoving his shoulder as you take a seat next to percy. 

another girl follows behind you, taking the seat on the other side of percy. he feels himself going rigid, why are these two older girls sitting by his side? he feels nervous all of a sudden, and wonders if this is normal. he looks nervously to luke, who seems to be the only one capable of providing actual guidance in these types of situations. 

luke doesn’t say anything, instead he’s too busy looking at you. 

“having daddy issues?” the girl on his right, who’s not you, asks. 

“um i guess,” percy answers, but he’s not confident in his words at all. 

the girl chuckles at him, a hand coming up to ruffle his blonde hair, and percy watches as her eyes twinkle with something akin to childish mischief. 

“maybe you’re her step-brother,” she says, gesturing towards you with a tip of her chin. 

“are you a child of aphrodite?” percy asks, because maybe this nice girl is referring to ares as his father. 

you stop chewing your dinner, shock crossing your features. the other three teens all burst into laughter, and percy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his question. you’re pretty enough, and you seem to possess a tiny bit of mean girl energy (cause only regina george would have demolished clarisse like that). therefore, the logical conclusion is that you’re related to aphrodite. besides, aren’t ares and aphrodite secretly dating? so he’d be your step-brother? 

“what?” he asks, looking around. 

“aphrodite is not my mother,” you answer, white-knuckling the fork. 

“oh,” he says, “so who is?” 

percy watches as your jaw clenches, and you flash a dangerous look in luke’s direction. luke lifts his hands up in a state of defense, as if to say that he didn’t put percy up to this. you, however, don’t seem to believe him as you take one of the green grapes on your plate and chuck it at him. luke catches the grape in his mouth, chewing slowly with a smirk on his face. 

“almost sweetheart,” he taunts. 

you scoff before getting up from the table, with your plate, and walking towards the firepit in the middle of the pavilion. on your way over, you stick your fingers through luke’s curls, and shove his face down towards his mashed potatoes. 

“did i do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the remaining girl to his right. 

“nah, she’s always like that,” she answers.

“yeah,” chris mumbles, “if anyone knows it’s katrina.” 

they jump into their own conversation and percy watches as you drop your entire dinner into the fire pit. the flames turn a deep purple and you nod in satisfaction before walking off towards the cabins. 

he can’t figure out who likes the color purple, but wonders if it had anything to do with luke. however, he knows not to ask.

hermes cabin, day two, night

percy was supposed to be asleep twenty minutes ago, at least that’s when luke called for lights out and everyone crawled into bed. but, he really needs to use the bathroom. poor planning on his part, not going before bed time, but he knows he’ll never make it until morning. so, he gets up as quietly as possible, slips on his blue hoodie, and tip-toes towards the door of the hermes cabin. 

he hesitates for a moment, hearing two people talking quietly outside the door. he waits patiently, hoping that they’ll leave, but their conversation only keeps going. 

“and annabeth’s sure about this?” someone asks, and percy realizes that it’s you.

the other person scoffs, “you doubting my sister?”, and percy pinpoints the voice as luke’s.

“never. i’m doubting him,” you answer.

“c’mon, you know clarisse picks on everybody,” luke mumbles.

there’s a pause in the conversation, and percy thinks maybe you’ve left or moved on, but then your voice rings out into the quiet of the night: 

“i have this feeling that he’s important, but i can’t figure out why.” 

another pause. 

“we’ll see when he gets claimed,” luke answers. 

“if he gets claimed,” you reply. 

“he will, even if it’s hera style,” luke says, and percy can’t help himself from opening the door. 

“your mom’s hera? i thought she didn’t have kids!” percy shouts, shocking both you and luke. 

you jump, and percy watches as you move to hide the bright orange vape in your hand. you wave away some of the smoke, and luke steps slightly in front of you, blocking your body from percy’s view. he notices the protective edge in luke’s posture, and how there was already very little space between you two. 

“what are you doing out past curfew?” luke asks, staring percy down. 

“i could ask you the same thing, but for the record, i’m going to the bathroom,” percy explains, standing his guard. 

“just be quick, and watch out for the harpies,” you advise, tugging on the back of luke’s camp counselor shirt. 

percy nods before walking by the two of you to head down the stairs. once he’s a little ways away, he risks a glance back at the hermes cabin porch. you’re still standing there with luke, his palms resting on your waist as he rubs circles with his thumb on your exposed skin. you two are whispering about something, but he can’t figure out what. he sees you slip luke your vape, but looks away when the older boy takes a hit. 

that seemed oddly intimate. 

lakeshore, day three, post-capture the flag

he’s in for it now, at least that’s what he assumes when he sees half of clarisse’s spear in his fist. she screams loudly, and percy hopes that you’ll hear and come to his rescue. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of the head counselor of the hermes cabin. 

luke comes rushing down the side lines, holding the red flag high above his head. several people are following him, the entire blue team in fact, but percy can easily pinpoint you in the crowd. you don’t have a helmet on, which isn’t surprising to him; it fits your character. he notices how the baby hairs stick to your sweaty forehead, yet your eyes are bright and happy. this has to be the happiest he’s seen you. 

your eyes never leave luke, even as he accepts hugs, handshakes, and overall congratulations from the other members of the team. finally, after the novelty of winning wears off, and his siblings finally give luke some space, you walk over to him. you shoulder check him, causing him to stumble a little on his feet, but the happiness doesn’t leave either of your eyes. 

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. you’re mean to luke, but you’re also not mean to luke. 

“where’s my hug at?” luke asks, opening his arms wide for you. 

you snort at him, shoving him backwards with a firm hand on his chestplate. luke doesn’t seem to mind, however, as his smile widens and he pulls off his helmet. he shakes his head back and forth, letting his curls loose after being confined for so long. percy watches you watch him, bottom lip between your teeth. luke opens his mouth, ready to say something, but you prevent him from even doing so. instead, you grab onto the brown leather straps of his armor, and pull his lips down to yours.

all the campers ring out in cheers. some of them even clap at the display of affection from the two of you. 

“so they’re dating?” he asks no one in particular. 

“yes,” annabeth answers from beside him. 

he turns to look at her, understanding washing over him. you and luke are perfect for each other, balancing each other out. percy hopes he’ll find something like that with someone. he looks around camp, and his eyes land on annabeth, who magically appeared next to him. 

“hey wait…were you here the whole time?” percy asks her, feeling a little angry that she basically watched him get his ass kicked by clarisse. 

“percy,” she starts, “i’m really sorry about this,” and she pushes him into the water.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[lovelypham]

JUST ONE 10 MINUTES

prompt: you wear ni-ki's jersey for a performance of lee hyori's '10 minutes' after your relationship with him was confirmed pairing:NI-KI x idol!fem-reader genre:fluff wc:400+

✿༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻✿

Your relationship with Riki was revealed not too long ago, and you being a member of a fairly new debuted group that was under HYBE lead to the immense demand from fans of both respective groups for a confirmation or atleast a reply from the company

after the fire had died down you decided to ignite it yet again by pulling a rather bold move at one of your special group performances

you and your group have been practicing non-stop for your comeback and you guys made sure that everything was perfect and ready for when you had to perform

what fans didn't know was that beside the usual promotion of your title track and b-side you were also going to perform a remixed version of lee Hyori's '10 minutes'

fans of your group noticed certain spoilers in different lives of you and your fellow members taking about lee Hyori's success and how you all grew up listening to her still trending songs

✿༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻✿

when it was the day of the special performance which was also the last day of your promotions you had texted Riki and asked if you could borrow his number "51" jersey

Riki obviously agreed without a question but was rather suspicious when you didn't answer his question of "what do you need it for?" you remained still with your plan and decided it would be best if you don't tell him what you're planning

✿༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻✿

even though your heart was racing due to the previous rumors that caused a blast on the internet from both your fans and Riki's,you still chose to quickly change your shirt before you went out to the spacious stage inkigayo had to offer.

Luck seemed to be on your side that day since your stylist had dressed you up with a semi matching white frilly skirt with silver jewelry adoring your hands and neck,as well as blue sparkly eyeshadow that perfectly matched the pop color of the jersey

your members kept your secret and decided to not tell any of your stylists or managers 'cause all of you knew that you'd get in trouble easily and that is a result of your impulsive actions

✿༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻✿

your performance began and with a heavy heart you flawlessly did the intro part but the catch was that fans were yet to see the back of your shirt and when you turned around,showing off Riki's name and number,you could only hear screams from both women and men watching your stage and your doubts quickly disappeared after you heard the unexpected reactions you managed to pull out from fans

✿༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻✿

after you finished and headed towards the backstage you could see the angry gaze of your personal manager who was then reassured by your stylist that nothing would happen to you or your group as long as you don't pull another act like that.

bonus.ೃ࿐

when Riki received a weverse notification indicating that his girlfriend had posted,he didn't expect to see a mirror picture of your back with your face looking towards the mirror and a wink adoring your features while showing off his very own jersey with the caption "hope you enjoyed today's performance!!😗"

༻💿

this was really bad I'm sorry😭😭 but I was heavily inspired by the new pictures Ni-ki posted on weverse of him in his jersey at the dodgers match(?i think)

-I gladly take constructive criticism but without any hate as this is all fictional and not meant to represent any characters mentioned💗

[mascdestr0yer]

Paige x pregnant reader? Just some cute fluff.

Not your fault

Paige bueckers x pregnant!reader

Warnings: it's just super cringe and cutesy !

Synopsis: just mini scenarios of you being pregnant with Paige's baby.

"m'sorry I woke you up so late.." you mumbled, your face pressed against her bicep. Your oversized shirt, with your belly poking through was comfortable enough to keep you warm.

"no, you're good mama- I told you that already," Paige's voice was a little raspy from the fact it's four in the morning and you woke her up, hungry.

"but I woke you up, and-and you have to get up early-" your eyes tearing up, with being hungry and sleepy was not a good mix.

"hey don't cry, you're okay," she reassured, kissing your forehead.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

@ Paige bueckers

"just run, I have to run further than you anyway," paige chuckled, taking a bite out of the chicken sandwich. You ran halfway to the pole and back.

Rock

Paper

Scissor

"really," you whined again as you lost again and you ran halfway to the pole again. Paige continued to fuck up the Chick-fil-A, taking a bite out of your chicken sandwich.

You ran back giggling, gently holding your belly as you did.

Rock

Paper

Scissors

Paige lost, she ran to the pole. You began eating a fry, "did she bite my sandwich.." you mumbled softly, taking a bite. You giggled again as you guys did rock paper scissors again.

Comments. . .

K2timez_:the waddle💀

↳Paigebueckers: not too much on my babymama

↳paigebucketswife: babymama is crazy😭

Ice.bradyy: y'all cute or wtv

↳y/nbueckers: thanks cutie queen 🤭

↳K2timez_: you're not even married yet.

Azzi35: eating her chicken sandwich when you have your own is insane

↳Paige bueckers: I bought her ice cream after chilll

Nika.aedits: the giggles are adorable

Y/nbueckers: I look stupid when I run

↳Paigebueckers:bro.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

"Welcome back to the KK Arnold show, today we're here with y/n, Say hi."

KK puts the mic in front of your mouth.

"hi," you waved slightly.

"and how many months are you?" She asked, handing back the mic.

"25 weeks," you answered, looking up at her.

"just say five months, don't be difficult." KK rolled her eyes and you just giggled, resting a hand under your belly.

"Can we sit down?" You asked genuinely, she nods and y'all sit down.

"I heard from the grapevine Paige wants another baby after this one," She huffed and looked you directly in your eyes.

"the grapevine ?" You questioned.

"yeah I swear,"

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

You and Paige are laying down in bed, as you were both about to head to bed. Paige then brings her face to your stomach, nuzzling into it.

"you're going to be so beautiful, just like your mommy," paige whispers to your belly, gently caressing it with her free hand. You giggled slightly, running your fingers through her hair.

"my feet hurt," you mumbled, you and Paige went shopping earlier. Now you regret it, completely.

"c'mere, I'll rub them," she chuckles.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

"bro stop trying to cancel me," Paige groaned, rubbing her forehead.

"yeah, Paige can't cook and Y/n doesn't mind cooking while pregnant, we swear." KK explained to the live, biting back a laugh. The two of them heard a faint 'dinner's ready', they both stood up quickly.

"Sorry, live we have to go, Gotham needs us" KK said and she ended the live.

"I'm about to partake," Paige said walking into the kitchen.

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble, heading to your room.

On your way there, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost on your way to the bedroom?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

[flightyalrighty]

(sorry if you've gotten this before or if this is not the right kind of question for the blog)

Do you have any advice on HOW to make a comic series? From what I've seen your work is fantastic, well made and written! (Cool concepts, story, and character dynamics etc)

How did you start? How DO you start?? How do you comic lol

I'm glad you enjoy my work! I'll do my best to answer this question!

I could give the ol' "Just jump in! Get started!" But I don't think that's the answer you're looking for, here. Even if it's technically the correct one.

"How do you make a comic series" Is one of those questions where the answer is kinda difficult to summarize in a single ask, because there's a whole lot that goes into it, y'know? I'll give you a brief run-down of my process.

I figure an idea for a story. In the case of Infested, the whole story was written before I even got started on the script. This is an outlier in my usual process and I don't normally do this and definitely don't recommend it.

Figure the plot like how you would figure a regular story's plot; The beats you wanna hit, the way the characters develop, the beginning, the middle, the end. What's the point of the story? What, exactly, are you trying to convey here? Who's the target audience? All that stuff ought to be figured out before even picking up a [MEDIUM OF ARTIST'S CHOICE].

Script the story. If you've seen a movie script, these things look a bit like that. You wanna not skip this step because this is where you determine the visual language of each page. Comic script writing is a whole thing and a half but I do have some random tips regarding it. -> When writing the beginning of a new scene, write down the time of day, the weather, and any important details about your setting (this is most important if you're working in a team). -> Using storyboard/film language when trying to figure out a scene is very helpful. You're not gonna remember exactly how that scene looked in your head when you finally get around to penciling it. Trust me. Write it down. Or thumbnail it! Thumbnails are also very helpful! -> Remember that you have very limited space for dialogue. Write with that in mind.

Figure the paneling on a page. I work at 11x17 and do my panel layouts based on those dimensions. I tend to make more important panels, or panels with PUNCH or SHOCK bigger than the others. Each panel is an individual illustration, but together they make a whole piece. You gotta treat it like that, y'know? Find the focal point on a page, find the most important element of it, and make that your focal point. Don't be afraid to get a lil wacky with panel shapes, either. They don't HAVE to be squares and rectangles. Check out what other cartoonists do! Get inspired! Paneling is an art-form within itself!

Page from "Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name" By Tess Stone

5. Penciling time! Get the perspective figured out, then draw the background, then draw the characters. Do it in that order. Trust me. With a background already set up, characters can be drawn more like they exist within that space, instead of floating in front of it. Also? Be aware that comic artists need to be ready to draw ANYTHING. You may have a great idea that you GOTTA put out into the world, but you have no idea how to draw, say, a car. Or debris. Or jungle foliage. There's no shame in using references, tutorials, or even doing a bit of tracing if something's outside your wheelhouse. Here's a bazillion tutorials from two guys who REALLY know their stuff.

6. Speech Balloons! Yes, really. In fact, you may want to do this and penciling at the same time. I certainly do. It's better to figure this out immediately so it doesn't hurt you later when it comes to getting your balloons to share a space with your art. Here's some great advice on the whole subject from a master of the craft

7. Inks! Line weight variation is key. Closer to the "camera" means thicker lines. If a part of a character is in shadow, that part is gonna get thicker lines, too. Personally, I make my background line art thinner than character line art. It helps the characters pop out!

8. Flats! Or flat colors if you wanna get specific about terminology. It's exactly what it sounds like -- Coloring the characters and backgrounds with the bare bones basic colors. I highly recommend keeping the character flats and bg flats on separate layers if you're working digitally.

9. Rendering! There's no hard and fast rule as to how a cartoonist ought to render their comic -- If they want to do that at all, even. Go with what you believe looks good AND is something you can do quickly. The "quickly" part is important. Heed my warning. Don't be like me.

And then I'd schedule the comic to be uploaded on whatever day suits me -- Thursday (usually) in Infested's case.

Of course, I kinda suck at relaying my process, so the final thing I can do for you is direct you to an extremely helpful book that really breaks it down in a way that may click with you as it did with me.

I hope this was in any way helpful to you!

[offbrandkyoya]

[11]

m.list

It was just a normal class time for Yachi.

She gets out her books and pens, neatly placing them on top of her desk. Yachi doesn’t pay attention to her classmates around her. She’s in her own little world due to her introverted self.

Yachi hears a familiar voice, and she lifts her head up a bit. Her eyes widen once she realizes who that is. ‘No way. I must be imagining this!’ She thinks as she watches the person talk to others at their desk.

Yachi’s eyes are glued to the person. ‘Class is about to start. Why aren’t they leaving?! Please prove me wrong!’ But the person didn’t leave the classroom. They stayed right in their seat. She couldn’t believe it.

She leans forward to get a closer look at their face. ‘I’m wrong. I’m wrong. I’m wrong.’ She repeats it in her head. Unfortunately, she wasn’t. That person was indeed “MILK-CHAN?!”

Everyone looks at her in surprise. Yachi blushes and slams her head on her desk. ‘No way. How long have they been my classmate? Were they always in my class?! I’m such a horrible person! What kind of classmate am I?!' “Yachi?”

She immediately sat up. “YES?!” She blinks when she sees Kageyama’s crush in front of her. They smile warmly and ask, “Are you alright?” The blonde nods slowly. “Y-Yeah. I’m sorry…” “It’s okay. I do have a question, though: ‘Who's'milk-Chan’?” Yachi stutters, avoiding their gaze.

“Oh! It’s nothing! Just a character from an anime! Yeah! It’s a very, very old anime, though, so there’s hardly any content in it, so you can’t find it if you google it.” She huffs. They stare at her in bewilderment, then laugh. “I see. For a minute, I thought you were referring to me. You seemed to be staring at me.”

Yachi let out a loud gasp. “OH MY GOSH, I'M SO SORRY! I wasn’t trying to be weird, I promise!” “I believe you.” They laugh again. “You don’t have to be anxious around me, Yachi.” They place a hand on Yachi's shoulder, which causes her to melt. “Thank you..” She mutters. ‘They’re so nice and kind. I feel warm around them for some reason.’

“No wonder, Kageyama-" Yachi catches herself and covers her mouth instantly. Milk Chan removes their hand from her. With a tilted head, they ask, "Kageyama, what?” Yachi shakes her head a bunch. “N-Nothing! Kageyama is Kageyama! He told me about how much of a good time you two had; that’s why he was on my mind!” She squeaks. “As a friend! I don’t like him romantically! There was no romantic intention as to why he was on my mind! Our conversation was just stuck with me.”

Her face is red and sweating. 'Geez, I can’t believe I said that!’ Though she calms down when she sees Milk-chan’s red cheeks and small smile, It was almost like they were content with her crazy answer. “Really? He had a good time?” Yachi nods, which makes Milk-Chan smile more. “I had a good time too!”

Suddenly, the bell rings, causing them to start class. Milk-Chan thanks Yachi before they sit down. Yachi slowly sits down on her seat.

‘Should I keep this a secret?’

Yachi picks up her pen to begin her notes. A small pout appears. ‘Maybe if I was told directly that Kageyama thought they were in Class 2, I’d correct them.’ She glances up to see his crush. A small smirk makes its way onto her face. ‘I should have some fun too. Let’s see how long it’ll take the guys to realize that Milk-Chan is in Class 5.’

CHAT I PASSED MY TEST WE BALL 🎀

rewatching ohshc 4 the 100th time

no one gets tamaki like i do…

@karma-gisa @cosmiicdust @abcdefghijklmzopqrstuvwxyz @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @xmagik @tnazips @zhochikennugget @makkir0ll @asp7n @hrkdlsjz @lucky-chars @azharyy @gigiiiiislife

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Daemon: "My crush isn’t picking up on my hints."

Prostitute: "What hints have you given them?"

Yandere Daemon: "Well, I stalk them a lot. Sometimes I even think about kidnapping them."

—

Yandere Daemon: "You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy."

Reader: "I would be happy if you stayed away from me and stopped trying to sabotage my relationships."

Yandere Daemon: "I said within reason, darling. How about I murder that guy that was trying to marry you?"

Reader: "So murder is in reason but my boundaries aren't?"

Yandere Daemon: "Obviously. What kind of question is that?"

—

Yandere Daemon: "My hands are cold."

Reader: "Here, let me hold them."

Yandere Daemon: "My lips are cold too."

Reader: covers Daemon's mouth with their hand

—

Yandere Daemon: "Can I tell them they look nice?"

Rhaenyra: "Sure."

Yandere Daemon: "Can I tell Reader I respect them?"

Rhaenyra: "Maybe, if they ask."

Yandere Daemon: "Should I show them all of the luxuries I am willing to give them... the lengths I am willing to go... if they just give in and love me?"

Rhaenyra: "… Stop hitting on my best friend."

—

Yandere Daemon, pointing: "May I sit there?"

Reader: "That's my lap."

Yandere Daemon: "That doesn't answer my question, darling."

—

Yandere Daemon: "I'm a reverse necromancer for you."

Reader: "I-Isn't that just k-killing people you don't like me talking to?"

Yandere Daemon: "Ah, technicality."

—

Yandere Daemon: "Am I in trouble?"

Reader: "Take a guess."

Yandere Daemon: "No?"

Reader: "Take another guess."

—

Yandere Daemon: "Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Reader's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. I can’t get them out..."

—

Yandere Daemon: Walking in to Reader's room. "Sorry I’m late for our tutoring session... I was... doing things." Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder.

Random noble Reader talked with: Out of breath. "HE PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS."

—

Reader: "Is something burning!?"

Yandere Daemon: "Just my love for you."

Reader: "Caraxes set something on fire again..."

—

Yandere Daemon: "You love me, right, Reader?"

Reader: "Normally, I’d say no without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it."

[crowsongcaws]

[Suggestive Desert Duo things because Scar in that spirit halloween officer uniform should be illegal]

Martyn and Ren's house thrummed with life. It was quickly approaching midnight, and it felt like the music had only gotten louder. It really was a miracle that no one had called the police and made a noise complaint, but Grian figured it was the alcohol getting to him that had him thinking the music was louder. Besides, it was a Halloween party, so maybe the neighbors were more understanding.

Bodies swayed around him, most people at least a little familiar to him given they all somehow knew either Ren or Martyn. His head felt foggy, so it took a few seconds longer than normal to process who exactly was around him. Cleo—with their face painted to look like a zombie—was loudly talking about something that went right over Grian's head to a guy wearing socks and sandals, Mumbo—dressed as a vampire—was flicking the lights on and off to some sort of custom-made lamp and discussing the wiring of it to two very interested people, and a blue-haired guy with an oddly cocky grin was sliding onto Jimmy's lap. At that, Grian averted his gaze, not wanting to see whatever antics his cousin got up to, but he hoped it would at least give Jimmy a few anxiety-free days.

Still, distracted, Grian didn't notice anyone was in his path until he collided with a broad chest. Unfortunately for him, his lack of attention led to him spilling the last bit of his drink onto his shirt.

"Oh, sorry, I was not paying attention at all," came a familiar voice.

Grian looked from the stain on his shirt to the person he'd bumped into and vaguely recalled that this was someone Martyn had introduced him to. Something about him being friendly enough to handle the marketing for the coding projects Grian wanted to advertise. But that had been weeks ago, and Grian was buzzed, so every possible letter of any name was swimming around his head.

Looking again, but really looking this time, he realized that this guy was somewhat dressed as a police officer. Or, on that note, somewhat dressed as is. Sure, he was wearing every article of clothing society expected, but his pants were distractingly tight, and the top button on his collared shirt were unbuttoned. Even worse, the costume had apparently come with a tie, but it was simple draped around his neck. And was his shirt sheer? Maybe it hadn't been by design, but Grian could in fact vaguely see tanned skin through the white fabric.

"Who are you?" Grian bluntly asked, only mentally chastising himself a few seconds later.

"Scar! I'm glad I'm not the only one who forgot!" Scar laughed, and how could such an innocent laugh sound just as appealing as he looked? "What was your name again?"

A pause as Grian's brain reconnected to the world; "Uh, Grian. Sorry, I'm a little buzzed."

"Not a problem, so am I! What's your costume, by the way?"

Grian blinked, pursed his lips, then answered, "I'm a witch. I didn't put much effort in this year, but maybe next year."

"A witch is still cool! It's a classic, and hey, not like I picked anything too interesting! Just a police officer! And, to tell you the truth, I just got to the store late and it was the last costume that had my size other than an inflatable chicken, but that was my costume last year!"

Again, Scar laughed, and Grian took to memorizing the sound. His eyes drifted up and down, settling on the tie once more until Scar noticed.

"Before you say it, I do know how to tie a tie sometimes, I just had to rush to get here on time, and then I forgot about it—" but before Scar could finish his rambling, Grian grabbed both ends of the tie and pulled him down.

Now, Scar was close enough that Grian could smell the alcohol on his breath. Startled brown eyes were looking down at him, but not a word of protest had been made.

"Need help with that?" Grian offered, and Scar's face flushed much to Grian's surprise.

His ego was going to be through the roof for the next week.

"With—with the tie?" Scar stammered.

"With whatever you want."

[midnight-black2]

hii! im sending in a request for Jann in the Archie Mademay event :) and this is my first time so sorry im nervous😅!

but prompt 11 really piqued my interest, thought about maybe a (before gt academy) nerdy and shy gamer Jann x popular sporty reader? thank you for your time bye bye :] !!

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒

pairing : jann mardenborough x reader

synopsis : you can't keep neither your mind off of jann nor your hands off of him either

disclaimers : not many, sub!jann, softdom!reader, kissing in public, pretty mild

note : i listened to the song sparks by coldplay while making this, so that's were i got the title, just so it doesn't seem as random lol

most people found it weird how much attention you showed jann. after all, he was close enough to a nobody.

man, society is weird.

all these unattainable standards set by messy, emotional, little humans. i mean, if you wanted to see jann, why should anyone try to stop you? you liked who you liked, and it's not like you could help it. besides, jann was sweet, cute, and ambitious. in your opinion, he was the dream guy.

you two would eat lunch together, walk each other to classes you had during the day, average college couple stuff. you never let anyone give him a hard time, and whenever you attended a social event, he was by your side (whether he wanted to be there or not). he attended all of your [sports] games, etc. the coupley stuff wasn't the weirdest part to people. the weirdest part to people was that you chose to do the coupley stuff with him. you had lines of guys and girls waiting, patiently. stalking and clinging, nagging and hanging--yet you chose him.

people talked, of course they did. negative or positive, they talked.

but over time, it got better. the jealousy never really subsided, but when the two of you walked through the halls, not as many people stared. and when you guys attended parties, not as many people ignored jann.

either way, you couldn't care less. you loved jann more than anything. nothing would change that.

you guys were sat a desk in the back of the library. quiet giggles and whispers could be heard. it was supposed to be a tutoring session, but it always turned out a different way. you always found him more interesting than algebra (or...calculus..?) and simply ended up making out. as jann explained the equation, your eyes lingered on him. you took in his facial features, admiring him not-so-subtly. he didn't notice until he looked over, and his eyes widened slightly. he smiled, before clearing his throat.

"so, do you understand? or do you need me to explain it better?" he asked, and you didn't answer. you didn't quite care, frankly. you weren't failing math, you had a 92%, which is borderline, but far from failing. so, it wasn't your biggest priority. in all honesty, you only kept up with these tutoring sessions to see him. you simply held his gaze, a look on your face he couldn't exactly read.

"were you even paying attention?" he asked, quirking a brow.

"no, not really."

"and by that you mean not at all, huh?" he asked, rhetorically. you nodded, with a small shrug. he laughed, before looking down. "so, uhm, what were you thinking about then?"

"three guesses," you said, smiling. you thought he had to have known by now, considering this is what you do every tutoring session.

"wha-Y/N, you know i'm not very good at this," he replied, cocking his head to the side in slight thought.

"oh cmon, it should be easy," you stated, with a playful eye roll. he lifted his hands up in defense.

"i really don't know," he said, and you couldn't help the laugh the emitted from you.

"gosh jann, you're smart, nerdy, but so incredibly dense."

"well then...just tell me. please?" he asked. and really, how could you say no to him? was it possible if you even wanted to? no. would you really ever want to? also no.

"i'm thinking about how cute you are. you and your perfect pink lips, how kissable they look, and your adorable curls--god, i'm thinking about you, jann. when am i ever not?" you say, leaning in closer as you speak your mind. he was slightly taken aback, before he leaned in as well. he didn't know what to say, so he didn't. he had this look in his eyes you knew all too well.

"can i...?" he queried, reluctantly. you grinned.

"you don't have to ask for a kiss, jann."

"right--sorry." you chuckled, before you kissed him. it was sweet, like honey. he was the one to pull away first.

"you know, you always do this," he said, with a head shake, but with an irresistible beam across his face.

"i know, just can't get enough of you," you said, kissing his cheek. you pecked his lips, nose, jaw, neck, everywhere you could. your hand cupped his face, and he seemed to lean into your touch. you went up for another kiss, which was a bit more feverish this time. your bodies felt hot, and you couldn't wait any longer. or...maybe you could, but you definitely didn't want to.

"let's go to my dorm, yeah?" you said, and he nodded eagerly.

goodness you loved that boy.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[idcfriend]

Hi guys! So it's been quuuiiiitee awhile since I've posted about one of my absolute favorite hyperfixition....

Misunderstandings and Eldritch Yuu! (Love me this combo _(┐「ε:)_)

Anyways... Lets get to it!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

So! Lets say the first years are hanging out with their favorite Eldritch prefect(not that yuu knows that...) and Ace remebering how intimately Yuu had talked about the Great Seven wanted to know more(the others had seen the video one of the students that overheard took...(AN: if your confused about I'm refering to please refer to one of my previous post sorry ( p_q)))

"Hey Yuu can you tell is more about what you lnow about the great seven?" Ace asked causing the others to choke at his forwardness

"Ace! You can't just ask that!" exclaimed Deuce

"Oh shut up you guys are just mad I had the balls to actually ask!" said Ace accusingly

"...still you can't go digging into people's past just like that" retorted Jack the other agreeing

"...Whatever" conceded Ace reluctantly

"...I don't mind answering actually" piped up Yuu

"Really?!" asked Grim excitedly as he clung to them

"yeah to be honest with you...it's nice to be able to talk about them like this...it's been so long since anyone's wanted to know but I had still hoped..." trailed of Yuu melancholy

(unaware that they look sadly nostalgic but hopeful with a far away gaze as if they were remebering something long ago that almost caused the first year group to quickly backtrack on their want to know more as guilt slowly boild up from making their dear friend *cough*obsession*cough* remember something that clearly mad them upset)

(...Yuu actually ment that they usually didn't have anyone to talk about disney with...)

"...henchman..." Grim said concerned for his partner(let's face it every single one of you reading this sees that little guy as your child...don't deny it (* - -))

"I'm fine...well who would you like to know about first? And i don't just mean the Great Seven I do know quite a...bit about those I remember fondly" you said not knowing the amount of misunderstandings they just produced...

The first years while shocked(and maybe jealous ) still wanted to know more

...surprisingly Sebek was the one to talk first

"Well while that is a tempting offer human we would like to first know more about those that which our school follow" he said

"hmm...that's fine another time them" Yuu said conceding

(unknown to you they it looked as you had a slight look of disappointment as if they had presented them with a test...and they had failed...they looked at them as if they had offered the secrets of the universe on a silver platter (which technically with the amount of lore and background info Yuu knows they...kinda did?) and these puny little insects had the audacity to refuse them-)

"...well then who first?" you asked snapping them out of there panic looking as calm and reassuring as you can (though it wasn't quite...right...but they appriciated the effort their otherworldly friend put in for them nonetheless)

"Ooh can you tell us more about the one from Savanaclaw?" asked Epel surprisingly

"Ah yes Askari...or well Scar as he's most known as" you say fondly snearing at the name Scar

"let's see...well Askari contrary to popular actually adored his nephew quite a bit infact his nephew had been one of the few to call him by his true name rather than the one his brother had mockingly bestowed upon him...that is Mufasa had forbade his son from doing so"

"What?! Why would he do that?!" shouted Ace in indignation

"Well...let me bestow a word of advice to you my most cherished friends," started Yuu (the first years had noticed how the air seemed to get just a bit heavier when Yuu had stated their claim before lightening once more...oddly enough they weren't scared afterall...why should they be scared when someone-no SOMETHING as powerful as their friend openly claimed and protected them?) "everything has a balance and never is something seldom only black or white...for you see many people claimed as heroes could be those the darkest souls and those as the villains the purest of heart..." you said mysteriously...almost pleadingly (you were honestly just reminiscing about something you had learned in your English class and decided to share it with the others since it was a good bit of info to keep in mind...not that the first knew that...)

The first years took Yuu's words to heart since it seemed important to them

This time Jack was the first to speak

"...was Mufasa a good king?"

The others were taken aback by this question but Yuu seemed to almost...expect it

"...a good king? Yes...to those he deemed fit to be, he had a tendency for...bias you see" you said with a playful lilt to your voice

"...a good father? Yes too though...not always for he often tended to treat his son like a subject rather than a son...often being more of king than father really..."

"Now a good brother?" you let out a laugh (to anyone listening it sounded...sinister it was as if Yuu was holding back from taring the very fabric of reality apart from their anger...for this was surely anger with the way their sharpened nails dug into the table leaving marks...to the subtle glow of their eyes) "...not in the slightest for you see...dear Mufasa saw it as a personal insult if someone claimed to be better than him...say...like a second born brother being much stronger and more respected than him...he did not like that Askari was the one to inherit 'The Roar of the Elders' for wasn't that a sign that the ancestors found his lowly second born brother more fit to be king than he? So he devised a plan to make his respected brother into the lowly second born he saw him as"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

that's all i got at the moment guys sorry!

But! I do plan on making other post in were i show the darker side to the various disney 'heroes' since you know twisted wonderland is of course of a darker nature than everyone's favorite disney movies, plus i know none of the information I'm writing about is actually true but...i don't regret it

It was one of things i never liked about disney even though i love it to bits i didn't like how they never eleborated on anyone else's backstory other than the protagonist

[faillen]

a little conversation I imagined happened before the bachelor party/wedding

---

"Hey," Tommy said, twisting his index finger into the hem of Buck's t-shirt sleeve. "Been meaning to ask—"

Buck tipped his head back against Tommy's shoulder to make eye contact. "Mhm?"

"How do you feel about PDA?"'

"Oh, I'm fine w—" Buck found himself stuttering to a stop, and his own hesitation had him flushing, stomach turning. "I—Actu—"

"Hey, no, you don't need to answer right now," Tommy said. "I just wanted to make sure I asked."

"Yeah, no, th—" this angle was shit for eye contact. "Actually, can we—" he lifted Tommy's arm off his shoulders and over his head, twisting so that he was sitting with his good leg tucked underneath him, facing Tommy and meeting his kind, open eyes. The thing that had threatened to topple loose in Buck's chest resettled.

"Evan," Tommy said, adjusting so that he was sitting the same way. He reached out and pulled Buck's hand into his lap. "There's no wrong answer, I promise."

"Right," Buck replied. "I know, it's just."

He liked PDA, he liked the easy affection of slinging his arm around someone's waist, or dropping a quick kiss. PDA was really, really nice when it came from feeling secure with who he was with.

But at the same time, there was still—when he and Tommy were in public together, there was still a part of him that was almost expecting someone to jump out from behind the bushes and yell that he was a "faker, fake! This guy isn't bisexual, he's a FAKE! Look at this asshole, pretending that he's a que—"

"Evan?"

"Sorry." Buck said quickly, snapping back into focus. Tommy's brows had dipped together, but he didn't say anything, just squeezed Buck's hands. "Sorry, I—" Buck took a deep breath. "I don't want to, y’know. Stick you back in the closet. But."

"Not being comfortable with PDA is not sticking me back in the closet," Tommy replied. "It's just you not being comfortable with PDA."

"But I am comfortable with PDA," Buck protested. "I just—" he hunched in on himself, unable to finish the sentence in a way that didn't inadvertently sound like a personal indictment of Tommy. Or suggested that he wasn't ready. "I think I need more time. And that doesn't feel fair to you."

"Evan," Tommy said slowly. "There's no expectation here. We can take it slow, I don't mind letting you lead."

Tommy's patience, Buck was beginning to fear, was endless. Which made him feel all the worse for saying things with the expectation that Tommy would interpret the worst out of them.

"You've been letting me lead with everything though." Buck swallowed. "Don't you want things, too?"

Tommy looked momentarily taken aback. "Of course I do," he said. "But I don't want things that make you uncomfortable."

"Right. But I know I hurt you," Buck pointed out. "On our first date, when I was uncomfortable. I know you said it was—but—I mean, I know it must've hurt."

Mouth pursing, Tommy sighed. "Alright, it did," he admitted. "But that's different. It's not like this—I don't. Okay, I actually don’t really know why this feels different, but it is. I suppose it’s because I know that you want this. And not wanting PDA doesn’t mean that this doesn’t feel real.”

“Unlike me acting like we were going to go pick up girls.”

Tommy tipped his head to the side, shoulders shrugging up. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I did say that I didn’t want to push you. And I think it was both. I was hurt, and I didn’t want to ask for more than you were ready to give.”

“And get more hurt.” Buck exhaled heavily. “I want to give you things,” he said. Because he did, he really, really did. “I’m not going to make you wait forever.”

The corner of Tommy’s mouth ticked up. “I know,” he murmured, the words laden not with a sense of expectation, but with a sense of surety that Buck would catch up with him eventually. “I’m not worried about that, Evan. Promise.”

“But if you ever are,” Buck said with a pointed look.

“I’ll tell you,” Tommy replied. He smiled. “So, temporary hold on the PDA?”

“Temporary hold,” Buck agreed. Then paused. “Wa-wait, does that mean hugs, too?”

Tommy laughed. “I think that’s up to you. Do you want to hug me, Evan?”

Buck grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

And then he tackled Tommy into the couch.

(And then they did a little more than just hugging.)