#and it’s more social able acceptable for her to wear a skirt

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 11

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I planned to wait until 5pm but fuck it, we ball

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You pick at the knit fabric of your sweater before you remember how much it cost and forcibly pull your arms back to your sides. The sweater and skirt you’re wearing under it are another product of your shopping spree with Nat and you’d secretly chosen it for today, planning of course to find some Javy-related event to wear it to later to justify putting it on his card. You couldn’t help it, you wanted something special for tonight. After an anxiety-ridden week spent pacing your living room every night trying to choose the pieces you wanted to showcase, it’s finally the night of your gallery showing. Pop-up gallery, you remind yourself. It’s a one-night event, promising minimal exposure for your art, but the idea of hanging it somewhere that’s not on your walls is enough to have you bouncing on your feet as you overanalyze your canvases currently hanging on the wall. You didn’t have the budget for the ornate frames you secretly envision your pieces inhabiting so the naked canvases are on display and you try not to let it bug you. Your little area is flanked by plenty of other artists, ranging in notoriety. None of them are particularly mainstream, but you’ve heard of a few of them on social media including the one hosting the event.

You’ve only been allowed five pieces tonight, but you know even that is more than nothing. Hanging in the center is the piece Nat had complimented and then gone on to text you about multiple times this week insisting that you include it in the gallery exhibition. You gaze at it as you bounce on the balls of your feet. The gallery should be opening anytime now, and while Nat promised to swing by sometime tonight, you aren’t expecting any other company. Your art has always been something intimate and personal, and you don’t talk about it often. Most people don’t know you paint, and even those who do rarely get a glimpse of your art. Despite your unwillingness to share it with the people in your life, you long for the world to see it, just perhaps not those who know anything about the artist. You tell yourself that you want your paintings to speak for themselves instead of adding to your friends’ perception of you. In reality, you’re probably afraid of criticism, of them seeing the darkest parts of yourself, unveiled and hung on a wall for their scrutiny. What if they don’t like what they see?

The painting of the bay makes your stomach twist. You don’t usually paint scenes from your life, rather using your experiences and emotions and pouring them into whatever your brush creates out of them. This painting feels oddly intimate, but you assure yourself that it shouldn’t. The only person who could possibly recognize it is Javy and he won’t ever see it. To the rest of the world, it’s simply another piece in your collection. Your eyes trace the canvas, slowly but surely making their way to the nondescript figures in the corner. Your heart tugs painfully as you’re taken back to that night, remembering the storm in your head and the way he’d quieted it with a single touch.

“Holy shit, Meep, this is amazing,” you almost think you hear his voice and chuckle to yourself. That is until you hear it again and feel a body step closer to you, the air between you crackling with electricity. “You’re amazing,” you turn in surprise, face transforming as you run through a thousand emotions at once. Shock at his sudden appearance, surprise that he’s here, terror that he’s here, and joy because he’s here. Your lips part in shocked surprise as you stare at Javy, standing next to you, eyes glued to the canvas in front of him, a bouquet of tiger lilies in his arms.

“Javy?” Your voice comes out choked with the emotion you can barely contain. He’s here. What’s he doing here? He turns to you and the strength of his smile almost sends you to your smile. “What? What are you doing here?” You stammer, as your brain fires at a mile a minute as it tries to understand how.

“Meep, as disappointed as I am that you didn’t tell me about this, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“B-but how?” Your brain has descended into a world of gray static as you stare at this man standing here, who showed up for you when you didn’t even ask.

“Nat said the gallery opened at 8, but she’s running late because she’s always running late. I would get used to that, by the way, she doesn’t mean anything about it, she’s just always been that way-” You cut him off as you throw your arms around his neck and seal your lips against his.

***

You’re kissing him. Javy’s brain short-circuits. He’d expected a lot of things when he arrived here without an invitation. Nat had mentioned that you’d seemed surprised that she’d even wanted to come, and he was sure you’d already be overwhelmed by the event itself, and even more by Nat’s presence since he knows she can come on strong. Not to mention that it sounded like she essentially invited herself to the event. He knows he’s not much better, but you’ve been entertaining a lot of his antics. You’ve come to games, you’d come with him to the auction, and on top of that, you somehow hadn’t blocked him despite all the silly texts he’s been peppering him with. Not to mention that he wants to be here. He’s wanted to see your art since you first mentioned it, but you’ve never offered. You’re even protective over your home, which he’s realized is at least partially due to your art being all over the living room according to Nat. Today is different. If the public gets to see your art, he should count as a member of the public, right? He’s brought the flowers as a peace offering. That and he can’t erase the look on your face when he gave them to you out of his mind.

He’d expected you to be good, you’re a hard worker and determined. You put your all into everything you do, and he’s sure it would translate to your art as well. He hadn’t expected to be so completely blown away, though. He almost feels silly, having taken you to that auction, paying such high prices for someone else’s art for his home when he’d rather have your work all over his walls. Especially the piece in the center. He recognizes it immediately, the stretch of road off the coast of the bay where he’d been scared he’d lose you before he’d even gotten to know you. The cliffs, the highway the water churning below, are all painted in various shades of dark moody blue, and there in the corner, a pair of indestinct figures locked in an embrace. Suddenly all his feelings are at the front of his mind, and he wonders nervously if maybe you feel for him a fraction of what he feels for you and it sends his heart into a tizzy.

Then there’s the look on your face. He watches every emotion process clear as day as panic slams against his ribcage, afraid of overwhelming you, afraid of hurting you, afraid of ruining your evening, afraid of ruining everything. Then before he can find the words, words to apologize, words to try and calm you in an effort to calm himself, your arms around his neck, and your lips are on his.

He can’t breathe but if this is what not breathing feels like, he never wants to take another breath. Your lips are soft, so damn soft. How does he not remember them being this soft? Though the initial kiss was full of adrenaline-fueled determination, he can feel you begin to falter, your lack of experience threatening to let the nerves win so he kisses you back, meeting your hunger with his own, doing his best to control himself from pinning you against the wall like the piece of art that you are. He lets his hands find your waist, hauling you impossibly close as your fingers twist into the fabric of his turtleneck, holding on for dear life as he kisses it out of you. He guides your lips with his own and you’re the perfect student, as your nerves melt and you let your body respond to him. He registers a sticky texture on your lips and almost groans against your mouth as he recognizes it as the gloss you’d worn to the art show. He’d been desperate to kiss it off you that night and he takes the opportunity to do it now. His tongue darts past his lips to taste it before he can stop himself but your soft whimper in response tells him it’s okay. He almost sinks to his knees right there at the sound.

***

Your brain turns to mush as you feel Javy’s lips move against your own. His hands find your waist in a way that’s simple, perfectly respectable, and yet the force that he’s gripping you threatens to leave bruises on your skin. Secretly you hope he does so you can assure yourself later that this is real, that you’re really kissing Javy Machado. And he’s kissing you back, returning the hunger that’s been stoked to life in your heart. You feel something wet dart against your lips and your eyes almost roll into the back of your head as you realize it’s his tongue. The deep rumble that comes from his chest after that forces a whimper from your throat. Heat washes over your face as you realize but he doesn’t seem deterred or embarrassed, he just pulls you closer and you go like a moth to a flame.

It’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone and meant it. It feels like falling into a fire and somehow coming back to life after burning down to microscopic ashes. Your heart squeezes in your chest as your brain pounds with the realization. He wants you. He wants you back. He wants you too. You want it to last forever, even as you grip Javy’s shirt with a desperacy that screams at him not to slip through your finger. That screams at you not to be the butt of another joke. But you won’t be, not this time, because he wants you. The cynical voice in your head drowned out by each desperate press of your lips. You want it to last forever even as your lungs beg for relief. Your head and heart are at war and you’re not sure how you’ll make yourself choose that is until a voice breaks through the pounding in your ears.

“Really? Come on, you guys, we’re in public for heaven’s sake.” You reluctantly pull away from Javy and your vision spins as you come back down to the ground. You don’t get very far, Javy’s lips chasing yours until he registers the voice. He groans and you suppress the urge to shudder at the rumble of it against your skin as he leans his forehead to your temple as you turn to face Nat who’s standing with her hands on her hips, a playful look of disapproval on her face as she suppresses the giddy grin fighting it’s way to the surface and you follow her gaze to where the bouquet Javy was holding has fallen to the ground and your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Fuck off, Nat,” Javy grumbles, pressing a kiss to the side of your face before turning to pepper the nearby skin with dozens of small pecks.

Nat raises a single eyebrow. “This is Roadie’s big night, Javy, come on, let her have her moment.” He groans against your skin, still not moving.

Your eyes widen as Jake appears behind Nat, coming around the corner, followed by Bugs, Zam, Bradley, Dragon, Bob, Mickey, Reuben, and Josie with the kids. You feel tears well in your eyes as Jake approaches and you realize he’s carrying a cake. He grins and you catch sight of the cake. The edge has been decorated to look like a frame and inside are the words, “You’re a Work of Art, Congratulations Roadie!” You don’t realize you’re crying until Javy pulls you against his side and strokes your hair gently.

“Congrats on the gallery spot, Roadie!” Jake says and suddenly you’re surrounded by these people who are slowly but steadily becoming your friends and you’re sobbing harder as each of them hugs you. When you finally get to Nat you throw yourself into her arms and she squeezes you tight.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you sob over her shoulder.

“Welcome home, Roadie,” she whispers back and you hold her tighter.

That’s how your first gallery show that you’d spent the whole week stressed out over turns into a party. Everyone sits down on the floor around your wall and Josie expertly cuts the cake that Zam reveals Bradley made, to which you launch onto him to give him a big hug he instantly stiffens in response to before he relaxes and hugs you back. Mickey brought paper plates and soon you’re all eating cake and chatting, and if the other artists give your group dirty looks, you don’t even notice.

You’re leaning against the wall under your paintings when Javy scoots beside you, shoulder brushing yours. “So, is any of the art here for sale?” He asks and you shake your head, gesturing around the room.

“Not exactly, this is different than an actual sale, but I’m sure some artists end up selling if someone shows up and is willing to pay a good price. We come here for publicity and hopefully to make some connections, but if you sell a painting I’d say it’s a pretty good night.” He nods before turning to you.

“And your art? Is it for sale?” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“My art?” He nods. “You want to buy my art?” You stammer, trying to wrap your head around the idea. “I couldn’t make you pay for my art,” you say, frowning and he pokes your forehead with a finger, soothing the frown away.

“You wouldn’t be making me do anything, I want to. After all,” he gives you a pointed look, “it’s the least you can do after letting me pay $50,000 for what you claimed was the perfect centerpiece for my living room.” You frown again and he reaches up to attempt to smooth it away again.

“I meant that, why, did you not like it once you hung it up?”

He chuckles. “I like it just fine, but not as much as this one,” he moves his finger from your forehead to gesture above him to the cliff painting. Your cheeks warm as you follow his finger.

“Javy…”

“I mean it, Meep. I love that painting, more than anything else we saw last week. I love it even more knowing that you painted it.” He leans his head against yours. “I want to buy it.” He turns then and you feel his nose brush your ear as he whispers, “I want to buy my girlfriend’s painting and have it hanging in my house because that’s where it belongs.”

Your cheeks are burning and you feel dizzy as Javy whispers that word. It feels different somehow and you find your lips repeating it, trying it on, trying to reconcile that it’s real. “Girlfriend?” He nods against you.

“If you’ll have me,” he whispers back and you reach down where his hand is splayed between the two of you and lace your fingers together before you turn slightly so his nose slips against yours.

“I’ll have you,” you whisper against his lips and he shudders. This big, strong, proud, cocky man shudders at your words. You look at him in silent awe, committing every bit of his face to memory. His beautifully smooth skin so close to yours, his eyes so dark and yet so bright, dancing with mirth when he doesn’t notice, and those lips, so full and steady and you marvel at the way they’re slightly swollen, your subtle mark on him.

“Like what you see, Meep?” he asks, his voice a soft exhale like he’s trying to avoid breaking your concentration as you stare at him. You hum in affirmation. You want to paint him, to try and capture his likeness even when you know you’d never be able to do him justice, like taking a picture of the moon.

Nat blows a raspberry at the two of you and Javy squeezes his eyes shut like he’s praying for patience. Your cheeks heat as you’re reminded that you’re not alone. Nat winks at you cheekily and you turn back to the group. Jake looks over and gives you a fond smile that you return shyly. You look around at the people who’ve come into your life over the last week and smile as you think over Nat’s world. Maybe they could be your home after all.

***

Javy’s thigh bounces as he watches the screen of his laptop while the video call rings. He’s been abnormally poor about catching up with his family since he met you. Deep down he knows why, but he’s finally decided he needs to say something. He doesn’t doubt that Isa’s opened her mouth since he told her about you but he’s hoping he’s in time to do some if any damage control. His oldest sister is more than capable of reading him for filth and has done so her own fair share of times over the years. Most of the time he deserves it.

The call finally connects the four faces that pop onto the screen. Isadora’s sitting next to his mother and Javy’s once again stricken by how similar they look. Cecilia and Sophia are perched on kitchen stools behind the older women, but even they’re not little girls anymore and Javy finds himself mourning the days when they still looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Instead, all four women are wearing the same suspicious look and he heaves a sigh. It’s going to be a long evening.

“Hi Mama,” he starts but before he can continue, her eyes narrow.

“Don’t you ‘hi, mama’ me, Javier,” he swallows, hard. “You haven’t called in almost a month. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I know you’re busy but it looks like you’ve been busier than usual this month.” He swallows, again. “It seems everyone but your own mother knows you have a girlfriend.” She arches a single eyebrow in question and wishes you were here. You’re so much braver than him.

“Fake girlfriend,” Isa clarifies, and Javy closes his eyes as he braces for the onslaught about to come his way.

“Okay but is she a fake girlfriend, if he actually likes her? Doesn’t that just make her a crush, or is that one of those ‘situationship’ things?” Cece pipes up and Phe rolls her eyes.

“Javy doesn’t even know what situationships are, how could he possibly be in one.” Phe points out. His youngest sister has a good point but it doesn’t keep Javy from frowning as Cece gives him a shrewd look.

“Okay, but do you like her, Javy, or did you just tell Isa that as a cover?” Cece asks with an accusatory tone. He suddenly wishes he’d just called every member of his family separately to explain before attempting a group call.

“Why would I even call Isa to ask for help buying her flowers if I didn’t like her? I have female friends, you know.” He points out and Cece rolls her eyes. “I consulted a professional for a reason.”

“And that reason is?” Isa asks even though she knows.

“Look I know what you want me to say but I’m not saying it to you before I say it to her, that’s cheating.”

“Javy, you wouldn’t know cheating if it had its tongue down your throat.” Cece remarks and Javy glares at her even as his stomach roils. She doesn’t know the half of it.

“Well, I’m not saying it, until I tell Roadie, I stand by that. And if you’d let even get two words out, I’d just tell you that she’s my girlfriend. My real girlfriend, not my fake girlfriend, and yes I know the difference. I asked her out yesterday.” He fights the urge to cross his arms defensively as he scowls at the screen. He thinks it might be frozen because for once the figures on the other side don’t say anything.

That is until Cece breaks the silence “And she said yes?” It’s Javy’s turn to roll his eyes and this time he does cross his arms across his chest.

“YES.” They all fall quiet again and then Phe screams. She jumps off her stool and brings her face up close to the camera.

“JAVY HAS A GIRLFRIEND! JAVY HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” Is his youngest sister twenty-six years old? Yes.

“Sophia sit down.” Javy’s smile dies before it fully eclipses his face. Phe returns to her stool, flashing him a supportive smile before his mother speaks again. “Javy, I want the whole truth, not just bits and pieces from you, Isa, and the media.” He swallows, hard. He’s done a lot of regrettable things in his life, but he’s never had to explain them to his mother before.

He fights the urge to squirm in his seat and he’s wishing you were here again. A wet nose nudges his hand he looks down to see Roxy cocking her head at him. He scoops her into his lap, letting his fingers bury themselves in her fur and trying not to wish it was your hair. “So, I… I met Roadie after a game. She came with her friend who’s one of the other guys, Reuben’s wife. I found her wandering around lost after a game, and I thought she was a puck bunny looking for a hookup so I kissed her.” He winces as Cece’s jaw drops and his mom’s and Isa’s mouths tighten into identical thin lines.

Roxy nudges his hand for pets and he continues. “The press somehow managed to get a photo and it started making the rounds. Zam had her come in so I could apologize and we could find out if she wanted to sue, which she would have been well within her rights to do, and instead, we made an agreement. She would pretend to be my girlfriend to help my public image, and I would pretend to be her boyfriend because the school she teaches at has some new backward policy that has her teaching contract renewal hinging on whether she’s in a relationship.” He shakes his head in irritation at the unfairness of your situation all over again.

“So we started fake dating and it turns out she’s amazing. She’s a kindergarten teacher and she’s so good at her job. The kids love her, and you can tell she loves them. She also does art in her spare time,” he pauses then, bends the laptop screen back, and picks up the computer so he can show off the painting hanging behind him. “She painted this,” he explains proudly. “She’s so damn talented.” He sits back down, places the computer back on the coffee table, and Roxy climbs back on his lap. “I fucked up somewhere in the middle. I could tell I was starting to have real feelings for her and I hurt her,” he falls silent, the image of your teary eyes as you pushed past him at the karaoke bar playing before him.

“She helped me realize that there were things I needed to fix, to change. My friends all helped me try and get her back, and she let me back in. We decided to continue the charade as friends but I was already in love with her. It was too late. And then yesterday she kissed me.” He feels hope bubbly giddily up in his stomach. “It's still new and it’s probably too soon to say, but I think she’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m going to fight for her. Not because I deserve her, because she deserves a hell of a lot better than me, but because she chose me, and that’s enough.” He looks back up and sees a small smile on his mother’s face as she watches him. He expects her to say a lot of things, but he doesn’t expect the next words out of her mouth.

“Bring her to Dallas, Javier, I want to meet her.”

A/N: AAA AAAA AAAAAA!!!! I’M LOSING MY MIND!!! It’s been a long time coming~

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from the one where Clark is trans and Kon isn't, but no one actually knows this:

Cadmus didn't know Superman was a trans man before they stole his dead body, but considering how many total assholes were on staff at the time they were surprisingly respectful of his gender identity. Not so much his bodily autonomy or his DNA or his potential feelings about being cloned against his will, but like, they used his preferred pronouns and whatever. 

So like . . . diversity win, Kon guesses? Or . . . whatever that'd be? 

So when they made . . . him . . . 

Kon got educated and socialized as male, when they made him. They called him "he" and "him", at least when they weren't calling him "it". They couldn't figure out how to synthesize effective hormone treatments for half-Kryptonian genes, but they had plans for surgeries they were gonna do when he was physically mature enough. Like–before the yellow sunlight could really kick in, effects-wise. Apparently they tried just tweaking the sex on a few earlier models, but by the time they got to Experiment Thirteen, they'd figured out that they couldn't work out what an actual AMAB Kryptonian's genes should look like and had just planned for the surgeries. 

Kon's not really sure how to take that. Like . . . is it good that they wanted him to be comfortable in his body? That they cared about what the fuck he'd want to look like? 

Or is it bad that they didn't ask him if he'd even want any of that? 

Kon wears a binder and a packer and acts like he thinks boys are supposed to act, tries to take charge and be tough and be confident and hit on pretty girls and not look at pretty guys, and Kal tells him he doesn't have to try so hard. Tells him to just act natural. Kon doesn't know how to do that, though. 

Acting "natural" would be . . . 

Acting natural would be a problem. 

Cissie has really long hair. Sometimes Kon watches how it moves and pretends to be checking her out when she catches him. Like the same way he pretends that he's perving on her ass when he's actually looking at the swish of her skirt, or that he's making eyes at her tits when he's really just wondering what his own would look like without the binder that he wears . . . more than he's supposed to, to be honest. 

Serling gets on his ass about it when he forgets to take it off every eight hours. She's working on synthesizing actual hybrid hormones for him, she says, but it's technically a backburner project right now because everything is always on fire and the world keeps trying to end in increasingly ludicrous ways. 

Which, well–he appreciates it, really, but that'd all be more helpful if he was actually "forgetting" to take the binder off, and if he wasn't terrified that she's actually gonna manage those hormones someday. Serling's, like, a crazy genius, after all. She might be able to pull that off. 

But Kon doesn't want the hormones. Doesn't want the surgeries he's been told Cadmus will give him as soon as he's physically mature enough. Doesn't want . . . 

Kon doesn't actually hate his body, is the thing. He doesn't feel bad or weird in it. He kind of just . . . he likes it the way it is. He doesn't even want to wear the binder or the packer, honestly. 

Literally every single fucking person who knows he’s trans has been respectful about it and has given him everything he could ever need to present as male and never, ever said anything to belittle or question his gender or his right to consider himself a man or even slipped up with his pronouns or anything. Even fucking Westfield never said anything shitty to him about it, for fuck's sake. Fucking Westfield, of all people! 

Which would all be great and good and very fucking validating, if Kon weren't fucking cis. 

There is something extremely, extremely bullshit about the fact that Kon is getting all the acceptance and support and medical care that every actual trans person deserves without even asking for or needing it. But she has no idea how to tell anyone that she's not what they think she is. Or who. Or . . .

Seriously, who else's life has ever been weird enough that they'd need to come out as cisgender? Like, who else ever?

Young Justice thinks Kon's a cis guy. The public thinks she's a cis guy. The superhero and supervillain communities both think she's a cis guy, except for the handful of people that know about Kal not being one, and even most of Cadmus does, depending on clearance levels and whatever. Tana and Roxy and fucking Knockout all thought she was a cis guy, even. Robin might "know" she's actually a trans one, being a Bat and all, but he's never said anything that's made her think he might.

Hell, the fucking Agenda doesn't even "misgender" her.

So everyone who knows has been absolutely fucking great and respectful about it and otherwise Kon passes fucking perfectly, and no one's ever once looked at her as anything but a guy. Anything but Superboy.

Except all Kon wants is for someone to look at her and see a girl. To see Supergirl.

So she doesn't really like to talk to Kara when she doesn't have to.

Or . . . ever, really.

Unfortunately, right now they kinda do have to talk.

"Well, your evil twin remains evil, no surprise," Kara says with a sigh, eyeing the walls of the containment cell that the Agenda has stuffed them into and is for some inexplicable bullshit reason slowly filling with water, who even fucking knows why. There's gotta be faster ways to kill them, especially considering Kon isn't even sure how much Kara needs to breathe at all. Like, she definitely does? But as for Kara, who knows. "Match is the worst possible version of a Superboy, I swear to Rao."

Kon has the weird urge to snap about how maybe Match isn't a boy and has anyone even asked?

No one ever asked her, for fucking sure. She didn't even know she wasn't a boy for way too long. Everybody'd always told her that she was, after all, and she'd just thought it'd felt weird to get called a boy because she wasn't a fucking little kid, she was Superman, or because she was trans and like, felt fake about her gender because she'd somehow accidentally internalized some stupid bullshit, or because of any number of other reasons that would've all made perfect sense and had all turned out to be perfectly wrong.

So yeah. Kon does kinda identify with the trans experience, ironically enough.

"Yeah, Match is usually a pain in the ass," she says instead of telling Kara how much she fucking hates her for getting to be what she can't, then starts looking for a way out of the stupid containment cell. It's not Kara's fault Kon hates her, for one thing, and also she doesn't wanna die here. Like, she definitely doesn't.

She wonders if Match might have reacted to her differently, if when they'd first met she'd known enough to ask if they were sisters.

Probably not, whether they're sisters or not. Match still seems pretty married to "I don't have free will" as a coping mechanism for all the psychological damage that being cloned and force-grown and told your only value and entire reason for existence lies in replacing someone who doesn't actually need to be replaced, it seems like.

Not that Kon would know anything about that, obviously.

Like, why would she?

She feels along the walls with her TTK and finds a frustrating lack of structural vulnerabilities to exploit. Kara punches them a few times, though they've already tried that. Kon doesn't blame her, at this point. The water keeps steadily pouring in and makes its way up to their thighs.

It is not reassuring. Like, at all.

Kon is gonna be so annoyed if she dies and gets buried as Superboy.

Though she was always going to do that, wasn't she. Best case scenario might've gotten her to Superman, maybe, but . . . yeah.

What else was she ever gonna do?

Cadmus made her to be Superman. Kal told her she could be Superboy, and named her after a boy, and named her like a Kryptonian boy would've been.

Although she guesses to have a femme-style Kryptonian name, she'd have needed to have a father.

She wonders if Kal would've named her at all, if he would've had to give her a name with a father's name attached to it. Maybe he would've just gone with Jor-El's, since technically Jor-El is the paternal donor of her Kryptonian DNA.

Or maybe he would've gone with . . .

Kon stops thinking about stupid shit she knows better than to be thinking about and feels out with her TTK again.

[beneathsilverstars]

mid-20s Odile and her rival/situationship, Rei! the first image is late-night socializing outfits, and the second is more-formal daytime outfits.

if you're curious about my silly little OC and her relationship with Odile, there's not much there yet but i'll be posting more headcanons with the tag #Kishi Rei. feel free to ask me questions about him and Odile as well!

design notes under the cut

This was very hard, because ISAT character designs are rather rule-of-cool, while I prefer to place fashion in a concrete context. I ended up looking at modern Japanese street fashion with traditional elements and sukeban (60s/70s girl gangs) fashion, so definitely not very pseudo-medieval but successfully rule-of-cool to me!

Rei is bigender-ish transmasc, but only out in certain social circles because she's careful about her image due to political ambitions. So his formal outfit is a perfectly traditional kimono, with a fur scarf to add bulk to his shoulders. And then to balance this out, her casual outfit is very plain, with masculine pants and rolled-up sukeban jacket sleeves, and a cool belt for style. (If he lived in a trans-accepting society he would probably still prefer a mix of super-fem and super-masc over androgany, he'd just be able to mix them more.)

Odile is newly transitioned and stealth about it, so she's excited to be wearing feminine things, but also too practical and "fuck you society" to go super traditional feminine. She's more consistently rebellious than Rei, so her formal outfit isn't very formal at all, just a plain button-up and long sukeban skirt. She's probably likely to wear a jacket or robe with this 'fit as well, but I wanted to draw the cuffed sleeves, lol. She always wears her ring, which was a gift from her dad and means "daughter, you're the most important thing in my life".

Her casual clothes are modern and striking. For the first time in her life, she wants to draw attention! She's kind of a sexy bad bitch, which is an attitude that I associate with revealing outfits, but in keeping with my Odile headcanons and historical sukeban attitudes I challenged myself to keep her nearly entirely covered up. She's still self-conscious about her Vaugardian heritage, so she's using recognizable Ka Buan elements, but in distinctly non-traditional ways. So she has a simple kimono-style robe worn partially open and layered over other clothing, and boots with a split platform inspired by geta sandals.

[maounteighn]

Overanalising Moral Orel: Clay, Bloberta and the Colour Theory

p.2 Bloberta

p.1

In p.1 we have already established that Bloberta's colour is red and it remained red throughout her whole journey. Her sense of Self was untouched neither by marriage nor by parenthood. When we are taking about relativity of her identity, she doesn't base it around or against anyone in her current family.

Her style barely changes, always containing red and white. However, she gradually loses white in her garments the more she decides to walk on her own. Her younger self up to that wedding in Help wears the most white – visually it softens the boldness of her red skirt. At the reception party she wears mostly red, white is only her belt and headband – red is also more saturated. The same red remains in her post-wedding daily wear. While white is not only in her collar, but also her apron, it is a completely different piece of clothing. Underneath the apron there's still her red dress. White apron dilutes red too, making it look less assertive, but it's only for the time she wears it. It's like a mask of a housewife and a mother, that she willing puts on for a meantime. Underneath it it's still her real, very persistent Self, that she is not particularly trying to hide. She also water down her true Self to appear less threatening to the society – she is a woman who has desires, attitudes and strength she shouldn't demonstrate. So not to apper a deviant, she has to adopt a socially acceptable Persona for herself.

Despite common beliefs that woman's true identity is of a wife and a mother, Bloberta is never changed by acquiring these statuses. Quite opposite, it's Clay who shapes his identity in relation to her (against her). It a simple visual storytelling, he is nothing significant to her, he is an instrument to her goals and desires, a tool. And a useless tool, too.

What has actually influenced Bloberta's sense of Self had done it way before she and Clay met. Take a look at her family.

Her mother Regina wears a mix of brown, red and very dark-green. Everyone else wears a variation of her colours. Modella – red and yellow-green, Lunchbox – green, Raymond – brown. Together they look very homogeneous too. They don't stick out, they don't clash, they don't take attention away from Regina. In comparison, their wardrobes are also similar and very simple, mostly plain l, while hers is quite busy and speckled, ornated. She is the center of attention. Raymond blends with the background, Modella and Lunchbox are like an extension of her perfect aesthetic. And all together they look classy, a very much dark academia family. That to be said, literally no one on the picture is allowed to diverge from the selected route (even their interior is in gren/brown/red) – they HAVE to be inside the borders of The Family Aesthetic or else...

In other words, they are constantly putting up a show, a collective Persona. The are not a perfect family by any standards, but Regina tightly manages their public image. Even at the reception the are like this.

But Who we have across the table? Bloberta. Her bright red skirt and white patterned blouse. She doesn't fit in the family approved hue of red, she wears too much white – she reflects too much light, her red looks even brighter again it. She is just that bright. Her reception dress is also bright red. If she was ever allowed to stand closer to them, they would look dull. So she never is. She is a family outcast. It's also reflective of a talent that she possess so naturally but is never able to utilise bc no one is interested. Despite her constant search of love and acceptance, she adopts this identity of a black – or rather red – sheep of the family that functionally casts her aside. She doesn't change to appeal to her mother's taste, probably bc it's senseless. Regina is not interested in Bloberta or her success, so it wouldn't matter anyways.

See, also, if her father was truly affiliated with her, he would have won a bit of her red maybe. It would've been a nice touch. But we know that he was too reluctant to defend his daughter even if he felt sorry for her. Her siblings are not on her side either. Lunchbox is actually her antipode – completely in green, a contrasting, complementary colour to red from the opposite side of the colour wheel – a son, a youngest child, a talent her mother actually wants. He is everything Bloberta is not. Modella, despite being closer to Bloberta in colour theme, in tone is closer to their mother. She may be not so aggressively opposite, but she is too reluctant to align with her. She has softer colour, she might be on good terms with her personally, but wouldn't risk standing up for her to Regina. Thus, Bloberta is completely alienated from her family.

Also, Bloberta's clashing style can be interpreted as her subconscious attempt to separate herself from her siblings in a desperate attempt to get attention too. Bloberta is a middle child, moreover she is a middle daughter inbetween an older sister and a younger brother. It's socially acceptable to deem her invisible – you already have an excellent daughter and a son™, this one is spare. Red is a very noticeable colour, it attracts attention. In Bloberta's case, it can also be so that she is noticed even if looked at passively. This way, her bright red is imprinted on someone's retina, even if they barely acknowledge her presence. This way, her mother, despite looking past her every day, never forgets that she is there. Thus, red is her only chance to be noticed by somebody, anybody. It's a survival tactics for her. Her depressed, meek attitude at home, and everywhere where she is with her family, doesn't allow her to come to her own character. To avoid being an afterthought, she wears bright red and contrasts it will white.

Now, let's take a look at her friend group. They all seem to have a similar style of colour combination. Pastel tones, dark-light, no more than two colours etc. But you see, no one is so on the nose like Bloberta. Even that one girl, that wears red too – it's not the same. Her red is darker, closer to brown and contrasted with light green, that is also with red plaid. The all are colourful, of course, but tame. It's just Bloberta who is standing out, and not only bc she's the only single friend now.

Also, there's another character, who stands out just like Bloberta, but in an opposite technique. Censodoll and her in this instance actually (and in general) share some similar characters despite such a dramatic difference in colour identity. They are both single, their Self shaped by actions of their mothers, the Self so strong, that they keep it throughout the whole life. However Censodoll approaches her existence with black – colour that absorbs light. She is not susceptible to the influence of her environment, but she is acutely aware of it – subsequently she can exploit it for her own gain. (Censodoll deserves her own separate paragraph).

White is a very reflective colour, it reflects light from its surrounding. Pre-Help Bloberta is very much receptive of what her surrounding thinks and expects of her and she reflects back exactly that. The slow decline of white elements in her clothes can signify gradual maturing, jadedness. Young Bloberta is still sensitive, naïve and youthfully innocent. She's of course already lost most of her expectations, learned to accept that little consideration she's given and not object or ask for more. At the reception she wears mostly red because the earlier encounter with her friend group gave her a motivation – to get engaged asap to be included again. The tone is more saturated, the white belt or headband does very little to counteract it – she drops the act she does without her family around, she is confident in her actions too. Subsequently, this becomes a colour of her victory and her downfall.

I have to say, the only time Bloberta ever abandoned her significant red was during her affair with Stopframe. It's a sportswear, so it's usually white. But on a storytelling side, it tell us about her (and his) motives a lot.

She wears all white with a tiny bit of blue. You see, we already established how white is a reflective colour. Story wise she is trying to be someone different too, just this once. It doesn't necessarily mean that it's unauthentic for her, just that it diverges greatly from her original and by that time setted colour identity. Its probable, that she is also putting a very strong and exaggerated act – she's desperate after all. It's been at least 4 years of her marriage to Clay, that was a horrible mistake from day 1, she knew it instantly, too. So this act here is targeted to secure her a better relationship (or so she thinks). It's actually the same approach she used on Clay in Help + longevity. The one thing she definitely has learnt was that she shouldn't immediately jump to a conclusion. So here, she is expanding her act in time and also putting more effort in her reflection. A tiny bit of blue is her way of associating with Stopframe, blue is one of his signature colours, especially to her. (Notably, he also has a tiny bit of red – he is also putting up an act here, they are quite the same in their tactics. He wears white, just like Bloberta, for the effect of reflection – he is whatever she wants him to be, an affinity to her. But notably, he keep an element of his own colour, while she drops it completely. He is not that dedicated to the initial act, not as much as she is.)

So, Bloberta holds her identity in a death grip and wears red as a trophy. However, she became a product of her own environment first, and locked it on herself second. Red is what she needed to survive among her family and friends, not necessarily what she truly was. Now, of course, it's what she it, the Self she accepted and built up.

Her red is very different from Clay's red too. She has a potential to be whatever she wants actually, she has much more agency than Clay in terms of independent existence. She is versatile and resilient, she is flexible and capable of big achievements if she puts her mind to it. In her case, red = strength, power she actually has, and, in extension, the power of Self that Clay actually desires but lacks.

They are different in their approaches and attitudes, routes the took etc., but in the end they arrived to the same result. They are two parts of the same disaster, one whole broken system.

Orel is next.

[they-them-that]

My Trans-Lesbian-Awakening Characters lol

Haruka Tenoh (Sailor Moon)

I believe Haruka was my first introduction to a lesbian and gender nonconforming (gnc) character! Discovering she was a girl along with Usagi and Minako blew my mind. The idea of a masc presenting girl was a revelation and I also found the fact other girls were attracted to her to be enviable, even when I watched the English version where her queerness was erased.

Trixie Tang (The Fairly Odd Parents)

The episode "The Boy Who Would Be Queen" was cathartic for young me. Although the episode was about overcoming gender stereotypes, Trixie's story felt relatable from a trans perspective. Her male persona outside of school and her interests in doing "boy stuff" but feeling pressured to maintain a feminine image for social acceptance resonated with me deeply. It's a shame we never got to see this side of Trixie outside the one episode.

Kaoru Matsubara (Powerpuff Girls Z)

I remember her introduction was her dodging a flock of fan girls on her skateboard. I was immediately pleased that the anime version of my favourite Powerpuff girl was that of a womanizing gender-bending skater girl lol. I felt annoyed along with her that she was forced to wear a skirt in her magical girl form.

Yui Goido (The World God Only Knows)

Even with her out-of-nowhere appearance in the second season, I was immediately enthralled by her princely demeanor and the way she casually blurred gender roles. I had to read her arc in the manga that was tragically skipped over and it screamed trans. Yui's conflict was her being forced to be traditionally feminine. Her body swapping and getting to live as a boy seemed to have given her gender euphoria that when she returned to her body, she started wearing the boys' school uniform, changed her hair to make it more androgynous, and started using "boku" to refer to herself (which is a masculine pronoun). Her personality also becomes a lot more confident, it's like watching a trans masc person finally be able to be themselves! The show may not appeal to me now but Yui was a big comfort character.

Mettaton (Undertale)

Mettaton's unique and subtle trans story felt so palpable to me that it made me resonate strongly with his character. When I learnt about his backstory, I felt genuine sympathy for him and his cousins. I love his charisma and how much queer energy he exudes!

Pearl (Steven Universe)

Pearl will always be a deeply important character to me for how much she contributed to my queer actualization. I think it's because I grew up with her as the cartoon series ran throughout my entire teenhood that she has been the most pivotal character for me. Getting to see this character who epitomized lesbianism and growth felt integral to my understanding of the queer community and myself.

Special mentions of just my overall queer comfort characters lol:

Haruhi Fujioka (Ouran High School Host Club), Yuu Kashima (Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun), Double Trouble (She-Ra and The Princesses of Power), Kou Seiya (Sailor Moon), Carmen Sandiego (2019 version), Ryuko Matoi (Kill La Kill), Frankie Stein (Monster High), Marceline (Adventure Time)

[lesbianmichelmishina]

dunmeshi gender hcs

laios & falin: cis+. they were raised in a very gendered society, and didn't really question that for themselves until after both being turned into monsters. they both decide they're gnc and only perform gender in a way that makes them happy. falin ends up soft butch, and everyone agrees that his majesty looks good in a dress.

marcille: trans girl. was able to communicate her real gender when she was VERY young due to weird half-elf development. elves are pretty chill about gender, so her mum accepted her immediately. her dad was a bit more surprised but he went with it because he wanted his baby to be happy.

kabru: trans guy. "kabru" is a gender-neutral name so he kept it. had a very easy transition. milsiril was like "oh you want to be a boy? okay sweetie, i'll make you an appointment with the gender wizard". bc again, elves and gender.

izutsumi: in the modern day she'd probably be the sort of enby who says "my gender is cat". but as it is, she just doesn't care enough to question anything. she/her pronouns, cool, whatever.

kiki & kaka: swapped genders. bc i think that's funny. it confused the hell out of their parents.

mithrun: completely lacks any desire to go along with social norms, including gendered ones. not an issue around elves, but in other cultures... "why is your captain wearing a skirt?" "he's comfy."

lycion: "hey, while you're performing forbidden magic on me to turn me into a beastman, can you remove my tits real fast?" "oh yeah sure"

[hereforthefunnyguys]

I wanna hear your Yu-Gi-Oh genderbend ideas so bad. Please tell me please 🥺🙏

okay okay so

I have a lot of half-sketched out designs and i have like none of them on hand one sec

Like in canon, Yugi starts out looking kinda immature both in dress style and also appearance - like, at the beginning of the story, she basically dresses in the normal domino high uniform and doesn't wear any fancy makeup + lets her hair down and all floppy. By the end of the series she has both grown up a little (e.g. a little taller, slightly more muscular, doesn't wear as much baggy clothing, etc.) and also has a much more obviously alternative fashion sense that only gets stronger as an adult. Hot Topic is shooting a new advertisement campaign with her as we speak. Also her hair is both a little longer + fluffs up a lot more since she's taking care of it now.

Atem, by contrast always has so. much. Hair. It literally comes down to her waist. Why, you may ask, did I give her so much hair? Simple i watched dbz and i know that hair length directly correlates to power level

Cut because this got So Long I promise it gets better as it goes on

Speaking of: Atem starts out the series as dressing extremely edgy and more sexual-undertone-y than Yugi because she feels the need to look as confident as possible, kinda like a cobra puffing itself up, plus seem what Yugi would consider "mature", which in her case equals "sexy and dresses in absurd amounts of leather." As the series goes on and she develops her own identity plus more solid evidence she doesn't have to be in Scary Evil Ghost Mode 24/7 she starts dressing more like herself, which is a little more like... practical than yugi? probably similarly feminine, just less goth-y and more regal. Like the princess of the universe has decided to bless your local game shop by showing up in full ballgown regalia.

She has a definite "warrior princess" type aesthetic and personality going on because she had to take the throne when everyone else really really wanted a male heir instead so she took over until she can find a "suitable husband" (spoiler: she never will)

Back to the modern day! Jonouchi and Honda are butch

I will not take arguments on this

Honda's just kinda always been like that and part of why she acts so tough and hard to get to know at first is because she's needed to be to cope with the bullying and ~social expectations~ of all that shit

Jonouchi was a sukeban and used to wear the long skirt + had long hair tied up in a pony-tail + in general just looked more feminine while being a street punk

I have the hc that then becoming more explicitly more masculine is tied to reinventing herself with a different identity, + accepting parts of herself she wasn't able to before + kinda comes with the whole concept of 'butch chivalry' which if i am completely honest she is not good at she is not chivalrous under no circumstances should Joey be your knight

Ryou has a similar thing to Yugi where she dresses fairly tame but it's to cover up for the fact that she fantasizes about dressing what she considers 'cool', which for Yugi was punk type clothing but for Ryou is more gothic lolita clothing. However she is way too shy to try pulling it off lol

Yami Bakura will not be contributing to this fantasy because she has the fashion sense of a racoon crawling out of a goodwill bin. Sad!

I just realized that the whole gag of Ryou being constantly harassed by a crowd of fangirls does come off as much more uncomfortable once the genders are swapped and its instead a nervous teenage girl getting pursued by fifteen overly insistent male admirers doesn't it

hmmm.

Anyways I support Yami Bakura being exactly as weird and creepy as a girl as she was as a guy. Maybe spiders are living in her hair who knows

As the TKB (TQB?) (That makes her sound like some exotic barbecue technique) sauce comes back she starts regaining some fashion sense that is mostly limited to an attempt to appear Big

Trenchcoats galore. So many trenchcoats. Make it stop

Big fan of the invention of pants

Yami Bakura wears skinny jeans for the Edgy Aesthetique but TKB mostly wears either plain shorts or skirts still because literally who the fuck is gonna run and jump and thieve around in skinny jeans??? who???????

Speaking of back in Ancient Egypt TKB kept up a fairly androgynous image with the help of a lot of rumour-spreading and a lot of chest bandaging (she was cursed with backbreaker boobs. Not for long though as you see pharoah atem my deal with zorc necrophades included breast reduction surgery for the small small price of me sacrificing half of Egypt to the infinite void)

the reason for this was simply that the criminal element in ancient Egypt was probably not going to be intimidated or very impressed by a pompous teenage girl and it would have most likely been detrimental to her survival to come across as openly feminine while out on the streets esp if we consider the fact that she was probably at least as attractive as Ryou is

”I am bakura the angry teenage girl” -bad, makes it sound like I watch fullmetal alchemist and cry over my chemical romance yaoi vs. “I am BAKURA the ADULT MAN and KING OF ALL THIEVES” - makes me sound cool and mature and like a sexy arc villain in one piece

back to the modern day (pt 2)

Seto is interesting to talk about in terms of presenting as masculine vs feminine because on one hand she needs to come across as suitably “one of the men” in order to gain respect in the business world but also she needs to be feminine and ostentatious enough to gain attention as a celebrity + it tends to make businessmen suspicious if you act too much like a man because what if you get the crazy idea you’re on their level hahaha

eugh

outside of public presentation I don’t think seto cares that much about what she looks like but that doesn’t matter because her whole life is public presentation anyways

my gender is blue eyes white dragon - seto Kaiba, 1997

marik (malikah????) is a femme lesbian and is soooo. Sooooo. Something about it

something something I was denied personal possessions and a sense of independent self as a child so now I will make myself as constantly fabulous and eye catching as possible while flaunting my wealth in the process

A lot of people interpret her fashion sense as just “sexy bimbo Barbie doll” type stuff but honestly I think for her it’s just as much about appearing elegant and in control as much as it is about being attractive to others

Marik wears so much makeup because she has such a specific image she wants to project so she is practically sweating foundation half the time. Same thing with the absurd amount of foundation garments she wears, e.g. the bodysuits and leggings and push up bras and girdles and shit

i am not a fan of foundation garments b t w they are evil and i dislike them this has been a psa from yours truly

Yami marik is pretty much the manifestation of everything she doesn't want to be, so she has a disheveled appearance, torn up clothing, very "imperfect" look in general

kind of has a dominatrix vibe about her because what is yugioh duel monsters (1996) without vague bondage themes

I have a design idea where she just dresses in the foundation garments marik was wearing under her clothes that have gotten all tattered and dirty just for extra ~symbolism points~

Pegasus dresses in 1980s power suits WITH extra shoulder pads

picturing a leopard print minidress pegasus in my mind its a really good image

TKB is nought but a roguish lesbian fundamentally and the parts of yami bakuras soul that are made of zorc juice are in a constant fight to keep her from getting distracted from the mission by whatever somewhat attractive young woman that catches Bakura's attention

I'm. Running out of text

Tumblr won't let me text no more

There is no point in a genderbend au if you can't be weird about the genders in it btw

i forgor to mention I have five hundred pictures of thee guys made

[flyin-shark]

"Cishet probably". The words of a man who is yet to learn that gender is a circus and clowns can be hot.

Or what I mean is more like.... That's really interesting in a sense, as soneone who is ambiguous/not caring on all levels, I really wanna study the anatomy of the cishet experience. I can't figure it out. Is it like. If you see a person your ability to be attracted to them depends on your current knowledge of their gender? So you could see a person and assume they are a woman, so then you are into them, but then they might turn out not to identify as a woman, and that is a turn-off?

And the other way around, maybe you meet someone and assume they're a guy so it doesn't enter your mind that they could be hot, but then you learn that they are a woman, and then it becomes an option?

I'm really not trying to be offensive so I'm so sorry if I am. I'm just super curious, as a person who was never able to conceptualize gender in myself or others very well. I find attraction complicated as is, and imagining adding the matrix of gender into it is like... Galaxy brain woah h o w ?

Uh. Anyways, good vibes.

(Came to think of it cuz you say you're a top/into bottoms. And like certainly the top/bottom dichotomy transcends gender, but at the same time, I wonder what the "communication" is in there in a cishet context? Does it mean "I don't like getting penetrated by a partner", or is it more about "top energy". And if yes, what is "top energy" in a cishet context?

I really hope I'm not coming across as rude, I'm literally just super curious about people who ID as cishet, so when I run into someone who seems approachable I turn into 12 questions with ....

Also this also is related to the fact that I'm like a dude but in a girl way you feel? Like most people attracted to me are also attached to gnc women, but also if you need to call me 'her' to get off, we probably won't vibe, and as a general rule I do avoid having sex with cishet guys bc if their attraction is somehow contingent on internal misgendering of me, it's awkward. But I'm trying to figure out how that works. )

Sorry I'll stop asking now. I'll get my ND ass under control.

Yes to your first three questions.

So I call myself cishet because first I’m fairly sure that I’m not trans. I feel like a man, whatever that means. I get what I think is a sense of euphoria from doing certain “masculine” things (wearing suits, fixing things, etc.). I don’t like the idea of me wearing a skirt of other typically feminine clothing. I don’t like when people use feminine versions of my name and pronouns that aren’t he/him for me. In all aspects I can think of I’m a man.

As for the hetero part I know I like women. I always have as far as I can remember. I’ve never had attraction to men. Although in the past few years with learning about trans and nb people I’ve had to think more about it. I used to be transphobic in the sense that while I respected pronouns and names I wouldn’t accept that people were their something other than their assigned gender. After learning about the science behind sex and the social dynamics of gender I now fully accept trans and enby peeps. But that means reconsidering what I like about women and don’t like about men.

I’ve seen femboys that I’ve mistaken for women and been attracted to them. After finding out they were boys i was confused but I just wrote it off and didn’t think about it. I saw a lot of enbies that looked more masc or fem and I was attracted to them if I thought they were afab. But then I saw some enbies that were really androgynous and was really confused again. I learned that you can’t tell if someone is a man or woman or other just by looking at them. It’s possible I’m just attracted to femininity and not women specifically. But also women with muscles are hot.

Answering your question about tops and bottoms. After spending time in queer spaces I realized just how boring most cishet relationships are both romantically and sexually. The top, dom, and giver roles, etc are all dumped on the man while the bottom, sub, and receiver roles are all given to the woman. I think most cishets don’t even differentiate between the roles.

My brain still doesn’t comprehend what it’s like to be “a dude in a girl way” or anything similar to that. Like I respect you as a person I just don’t understand how that works. It seems like a contradiction at first but I know boy and girl aren’t opposites.

Sorry for taking so long to respond to this but I wanted to give you some good answers.

[glamgirlkayla]

30+ Girly Secrets to Be More Feminine & Draw Others with Your Softer Side

What is being feminine like? 

When a woman is feminine, she has a certain balance of behaviors, attributes, and biological and social characteristics of a typical woman.

Some people say that being feminine is also a state of mind, set of beliefs, and way of living. Basically, it’s a style or way of doing things. It comes from a combination of factors.

There are some people who think that being feminine is a flaw because it represents weakness and being less worthy than a man. But that’s not true at all.

Being feminine is beautiful and should be celebrated and respected.

What traits make a woman feminine?

Everyone has a different answer for what makes a woman feminine. However, there are some common traits that define femininity.

In general, women who are feminine tend to be more expressive, intuitive, and nurturing than men. They also care more about relationships.

Being feminine also involves caring about trying to look your best and have a sense of style. They make themselves look classy through clothes and makeup.

Overall, feminine women have good human qualities such as kindness, affection, understanding, and sensitivity. 

1. Free your mind

You probably didn’t think this was going to be a step, but it is. If you want to reconnect with your feminine side and want to know how to be feminine, you need to free your mind.

Being feminine is about being free. Stop focusing on how you’re not feminine enough or what femininity is to everyone else. Instead, just focus on doing what makes you feel comfortable and happy.

2. Become more vulnerable

We always assume vulnerability is being weak, but it’s not. Being vulnerable is about opening yourself up. If you’re always acting tough, your guard is constantly up. 

3. Receive compliments and help

Having someone hold a door open for you isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It doesn’t mean you’re weak; it shows respect and politeness. 

Instead of responding rudely, accept the help and kind gesture. If someone compliments you, accept the compliment by saying, “thank you.”

4. Practice self-care

This doesn’t mean you need to wax your whole body and get your nails done. Remember, physical appearance is only a small fraction of what being feminine means. Instead, practice self-care

Do things for yourself that make you happy. If you enjoy reading a book while taking a bath, do that. If you like yoga or going for walks, do those activities.

5. Don’t shy away from makeup

Natural beauty is very important, but so is enhancing it. There is no need to slap on tons of makeup to look good. 

As a rule of thumb, your makeup bag should contain these essentials: natural mineral veil powder, eyeliner, bronzer, mascara, and lip gloss.

6. You don’t always need to layer on make-up

On the other hand, many people believe femininity is all about make-up. It’s not. Sure, you can wear make-up and look more feminine, but femininity comes from within. 

7. Don’t be afraid to try new things

Being feminine isn’t about waiting at home for your partner with dinner ready on the table. That doesn’t make you feminine. 

If you want to reconnect with this side of yourself, try new things. If you’re more sporty, try something that’s completely opposite. Try painting or writing; explore your emotional side.

8. Dress like a lady

If you want to be a lady, then you have to dress like one. Steer clear from unflattering and formless clothes like baggy jeans and frumpy t-shirts. Don more skirts, dresses, and figure-flattering outfits.

Whether you opt for blood red or robin blue, don’t worry too much about the color palette as a real lady should be able to pull off any color, so long as it doesn’t clash with her skin tone or hair color. 

One very important tip: stay away from neon, unless you are attending a rave.

9. Explore different clothes

You might never wear high heels. Maybe when you put them on, you feel like you walk like a horse. But, if you wear them, you will feel sexy and confident.

Now, of course, don’t wear them all the time. But try something new because you might like it. Don’t be afraid to try new styles out; you may find something that you like.

10. Don’t be afraid to accessorize

Do not be afraid to brighten up your wardrobe with splashes of accessories. From silk headbands to solitaire diamond earrings, keep things simple and classy, so that they don’t draw attention away from your outfit as a whole. 

If you want to go for costume jewelry, be sure that they don’t look cheap, and don’t hesitate to spend more on them than you normally would.

11. Tone down the swearing

You might talk like a sailor. But if you want to be more feminine, you need to clean up your language. This isn’t even about being feminine; it’s about looking mature and classy. 

12. Don’t gossip

Becoming feminine isn’t about making yourself feel good by pushing other people down. Being feminine is about working on yourself. You don’t need to judge or gossip about other women. Remember, this is about you, not them.

13. Care about things you care about

Sure, that might sound a little confusing. But if you want to be feminine, drop the whole aggressive or indifferent act. 

It’s okay to show you care about things that mean something to you. It’s okay to show your emotions. This doesn’t mean you’re weak or broken. 

14. Let Go

This is an important step you need to take. If you want to truly become feminine, let go of other people’s expectations and opinions. 

15. No boy haircuts, please

Although there are plenty of feminine women out there who have beautiful short hair *think of Audrey Tatou and Halle Berry*, there is no denying that if you want to amp up your game and become more ladylike, let your hair grow long.

Not everyone can pull off short hair without looking like a tomboy. Healthy lustrous locks are perhaps the most well-known feminine trait in the world. From sweet Disney heroines to svelte supermodels, long hair is the way to go.

16. Maintain a healthy body weight

There is a fine line between being healthy and overweight and being slim versus skinny.

To give you an idea of just what makes a woman healthily curvy, look up Marilyn Monroe and Monica Bellucci. However, it’s true that not everyone can look like them.

There are women out there who, try as they might, find it hard to gain weight, whereas there are others out there who partake in every diet fad to hit the market and still end up piling on the pounds. 

At the end of the day, exercise for at least 40 minutes a day and eat right. Your ideal body shape will emerge in no time at all.

17. Don’t be loud and rowdy

Ever come across a beautiful and feminine-looking woman at a restaurant, and felt absolutely charmed by the way she looked, ate, and behaved?

Got completely turned off the moment she opened her mouth and amplified her opinions to the entire restaurant? Leave the noise-making and rowdy behavior to frat boys, and start lowering your volume when you’re out in public.

No one likes a loudmouth, even less so when she’s drunk and can’t control her verbal diarrhea. 

Unless you are giving a speech or presentation, ensure that your voice does not carry past the person next to you.

18. Don’t feign intelligence

Another way to be more feminine is to listen a lot more than you speak, especially if you’re unfamiliar with the subject matter. 

There is nothing worse than watching someone dig their own grave trying to act like a know-it-all when they clearly have no idea what they’re talking about.

19. Be flirtatious and playful

It will do you well not to confuse being bitchy and being feminine, so don’t give people the cold shoulder. Be flirtatious and playful with those around you, especially if they’re members of the opposite sex. 

However, remember not to overdo it as you may risk alienating the women around you. Befriend the women by exuding charm and confidence instead.

20. Shower daily

Hygiene should be everyone’s number one priority, even more so for you if you want to be more feminine. Nothing is more disgusting than a sloppy woman with stringy hair bordering on accidental dreadlocks.

Take the time to shower at least once a day, either in the morning before you leave the house or before bed. Always smell as clean and fresh as you can and don’t forget to apply lightly scented lotion and a spritz of perfume before you start your day.

21. Groom yourself

Bathing is not enough if you want to maintain a high level of femininity. Be sure to invest the time and money into grooming yourself well. Don’t bother with sloppy DIY wax jobs.

Head to a salon and get them all taken care of by a professional. From eyebrow threading and Brazilian waxing to spa pedicures and much-needed facials, the sky is the limit when it comes to keeping yourself in tip-top condition.

22. Place fresh flowers at home

It is not just about looking feminine, it is also about living and breathing the part. One way to do so is to surround yourself with beauty. 

You should place fresh flowers at home, so that every time you arrive or leave, you are reminded that you are a beautiful woman with the world at her feet.

23. Learn to dance

Enough with the dirty dancing already. Play with your feminine prowess, and sign up for a course that will teach you everything from salsa to ballroom dancing. 

It is always a good idea to know a little bit of everything, as it’ll give you the chance to wow your audience if there’s ever any need for it.

24. Invest in beautiful lingerie

It doesn’t matter that no one is going to see what’s underneath your clothes. All that matters is that you know it’s there. Nothing is worse than ugly granny panties or worn-out bras that have seen far too many washing machine cycles.

Want to know what’s possibly worse than that? Visibly saggy tits and muffin tops. Invest in proper lingerie and make sure you wear them, not stash them.

25. Be gentle and kind

One way to be more feminine is to be gentle and kind to everyone you cross paths with. 

From your superior to the homeless man on your street corner, be nice to people and the world will send it back to you in ways that you could never imagine.

26. Stop competing with others

Jealousy is one of the least feminine traits that a woman can possess. Although it’s far simpler to be envious instead of happy for someone else’s success, be sure that you try hard and always remember that there is no point in competing with other people. 

27. Be polite

Politesse is the key to being a feminine and well-respected woman. Never forget to say please and thank you, and never raise your voice in public. 

Treat everyone as an equal and never think that you are above anyone else. If you fall into this trap, it is a sign of bad breeding, and all hopes of you being a classy and feminine woman will go flying out the window. 

28. Set some standards

Be picky about whom you spend your time with—meaning sleep with. Say no to one-night stands and never be easy. Let him woo you, chase you and shower you with everything you deserve. 

One of the key traits of being a lady is not about how well you play the game, but whether you can do it with standards. This is, by far, the best way to filter out the guys who just want to use you.

29. Smile often

No one likes a sourpuss, so be sure that you smile often and exude happiness. You’re not an angsty teenager anymore, so don’t behave that way.

Being happy is a definite sign of femininity and shows the world that you are positive and excited about your day. This massive dose of positivity will be sure to melt the hearts of even your biggest critics.

30. Do your eyebrows

Eyebrows are more important than you think. They shape your face and frame your eyes. 

So, you really shouldn’t let them get bushy, because that’s not attractive. Shape them and brush them with some good eyebrow products or have them done professionally.

31. Smell good

Smelling good is a very attractive and feminine quality. Choose a good brand that smells delicate and sweet. 

You might want to try floral scents or anything else that appeals to you. Whatever you choose, you need to smell great.

32. Hang out with your girls

When you want to learn to be more feminine, you should surround yourself with your girls. Their feminine energy will radiate and wear off on you, too. 

Have a girls’ day out, have fun, and feel great. Having fun and being silly can be a great feminine quality.

33. Look after your mental health

Of course, it’s important to look good when you want to be more feminine, but don’t forget about your mental health too. Let go of negative thoughts and emotions.

You’ll project more positive energy and smile more. Being feminine starts within yourself and oozes outward.

34. Allow yourself to receive

Most women like to receive gifts and compliments—especially in a romance. But it doesn’t even matter what kind of relationship it is. Just allow yourself to receive from others.

So, whether it’s letting your partner support and comfort you or letting your kids hug you, be open to receiving. Indulge yourself in these things. You deserve it, right? 

35. Shield yourself from the elements

There are several reasons you want to shield yourself from the elements. First, it’s not very feminine or attractive to get caught in the rain and look like a drowned rat. And having dry, cracked skin in the cold isn’t good either.

So, don’t forget to wear gloves and use umbrellas depending on the weather. You will preserve your clothes and your hair when you do.

36. Steer away from dirt and filth

Have you ever seen a feminine woman who looks dirty and unkempt? Well, with the exception of female mud wrestlers, the answer is probably no.

So, make sure you wash your hands, keep your nails clean, and don’t look like you just got done working on a car. A dirty woman is not a feminine one.

37. Don’t be seen chugging beer, hogging food, or picking fights

Sure, you might like to party and have fun. There is nothing wrong with that! But chugging beer, being loud, hogging food, or picking fights is not feminine.

So, you might want to stick with a glass of wine or a cosmopolitan if you want to drink. Those cocktails are much more feminine and will make you look more like a lady. 

When you’re with other people, try to get into the habit of bringing out more femininity. After all, you are a woman… so why not? 

[audrey-emeralds]

Every Halloween | Tate Langdon

Pairing: Tate Langdon x Female!Reader

Summary: Since the first time Tate saw Y/n he can't wait to see her again, another Halloween.

Warnings: Stalking

A/n: Happy birthday to Evan Peters who played Tate Langdon! (Even though I am a bit late.)

You was still in high school when he spotted you. Such a sweet thing. In her witch costume, dressed in all black like it was some funeral. He would take you there on your first date.

To a funeral of a person, you hated the most. He thought you would like that. You would seem satisfied with your worst enemy's death.

Man, that skirt was killing him. It wasn't even too short. You just looked too good in it. He only saw you now, in this costume, with two of your friends, just wanting to go out for the scariest holiday there is. Not even having a clue that you are monitored by a dead guy.

Despite wearing all black and not being the only one wearing it, you are a far more interesting treat than other girls around you. Soon all your smiles turn into frowns the moment your friends didn't have there eyes on you.

Oh, another unlucky soul.

You watch all the costumes and people showing off thinking why wouldn't you leave the anxiety for the rest of the year. It's Halloween after all, the best day there could be. When you didn't need to pretend you had a will to live.

While you went back into your happy mode, Tate still stalked every move you made. Like a camera capturing every bit of you. At this point, it's been half an hour and he knows that if he was to see you again, years from this day he would know it was you. Even if you change, he would know.

He haunted your u shadow long into the night before he was to return to the Murder House, not having a chance to approach you.

He was enraged by himself. Why couldn't he stay out a bit longer, see where you live and do you even live here. Now you might move, making it impossible for him to ever find you again.

In some way Tate got over you, accepting it as it is.

Halloween came again with Tate finally was being able to get away from the miserable walls of his prison.

Outside he had so much more to experience. What fall made of nature, people's failed attempts at looking scary, you...

You.

It was you. Wearing a costume of vampire, in all red. Fake blood already stained your neck, fangs showed off, legs out on the open.

As if you got even better than the last year. Now he wouldn't let you go. Today he got his other chance, to find out who you are.

" Y/n Y/l/n. " Dark-haired friend of yours yells for all to hear including Tate, revealing your identity. A name, good something to start with.

That night he found out more than expected. Your friend was just giving him information without a question, talking and talking about your memories.

Asking you how your cousins who live here are doing. Aha, cousins, that's the reason for your presents here, hm?

Talking about graduation which will for both of you take place in just a few months. Alright, a high school student. The name of your school, the school club you just started going to, the name of your Spanish tutor...

She was spilling details about you with yourself not caring a single bit at the fact of someone hearing this information. Someone who would use it to their advantage.

The next year he researched. Found your name, family, social media...

Everything linked to you, Tate knew of. If there was a quiz about you, he would without a doubt win it with ease.

The third Halloween came up, and you were again out, trying to forget every single bad thing going on in your life.

And like last Halloween Tate was just behind you, to get even more updates on your life, he didn't know of. He didn't want to talk to you, only observe.

It was always the same until last Halloween when you didn't come with your friends.

He was a tall browned hair guy, with brown eyes, muscles, stylish jeans. Looked like any high school athlete that there is. He didn't even have a costume.

But he didn't act like one, squeezing your hand in comfort, whispering you quotes from books...

Tate could make the two of you separate. He could. But he didn't.

The reason why he didn't do it, well. He still stalked your social media and your friends. He knew of that guy because you followed him.

Though he didn't catch Tates attention. It was your face. The happy face. Genuine happiness spread on your face and he couldn't remember seeing you like this.

Not on your school photos, family dinners, family trips, school trips...

Only when it was with him. He saw the same happiness that day as well. It's like you finally found your will to live and now you are using it.

Halloween passed, you were not seen by Tate in real life, because he saw how your life moved on.

A college graduate, living the city of your dreams, with a dog and your husband, the same guy that made your days.

Just like the first time, he accepted his fate, what else is there to do. The best thing was that you were happy, with or without him.

Never to meet the guy who loved you so much that even after your last Halloween here is still checking on you daily.

That is his source of happiness, seeing you have it, even with him not in the picture.

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

So Wrong

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Reader, Jane Bodecker, assorted OCs, also gonna go ahead and say Lee is kinda soft/dark in this one

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Infidelity, alcohol usage, smoking, somewhat dub-con sexual stuff, but not really

Summary: The Reader is a young single mother and widow new to the town of Meade. She gets drawn into a social circle that includes the Sheriff’s wife, while also being drawn to the Sheriff himself.

A/n: I truly don’t know where this came from or why I wrote it. I watched TDATT and suddenly this whole thing just popped into my head complete with a Patsy Cline soundtrack. There’s infidelity on Lee’s part, and his wife is terrible, and these are fictional characters so I am trying to not feel guilty for making that happen. 

There’s more to this story, probably extending into 1 or 2 more parts. I don’t know what to say for myself, I cannot pwp. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome. Not beta-read, so please let me know if there’s an error. 

Hope you enjoy!

Meade is as good a place as any to settle. Surrounded by wilderness and small towns, it’s quiet, far from anyplace and anyone you know. A welcome adventure and a place to dispose of your grief, finally - hopefully. 

You pull up on a quiet street and sit there just a moment to breathe, to look at the life you had that is settled in between the few boxes and suitcases of belongings, the folded up flag, and the little boy you buckled into the seat.

Through a tangled web of connections, you are able to rent a little upper duplex apartment from the widow in town. She claims she doesn’t mind a little noise as your son stomps up the stairs and gives you an open invitation to join her at church on Sundays.

It is six days into your new residence, the first Monday in town when the apparent welcoming committee shows up at your door. She wears a gentle smile on her face and presents you with a warm pie still wrapped in cloth.

“My name is Jane Bodecker, my husband’s the Sheriff. I wanted to introduce myself…”

You know the routine after moving around a few times already. You imagine the conspiring during the luncheon after church yesterday, the ladies munching on dry cookies and deciding who would be the first to talk to you.

You nod and smile, and accept the offering. 

“Some of us like to get together to play cards and socialize on Tuesdays, it would be nice to have you join us and let us get to know you.”

Of course she means that they are chomping at the bit to know why a single woman with no family ties has moved into town. You’re familiar with the ritual and know you need to go along if you want to make it work in this place.

You return her smile, “That would be so kind of you, as long as you don’t mind my son coming along.” You gesture to the little boy hiding in your skirts behind you.

“Of course he can. He can play with my boy, Robert. We will see you at two.” She leaves you with her address and directions over, telling you to look for the house with the red shutters.

Their house is in one of the newer, more developed parts, with some manufactured homes lining the street and looking boxy compared to the traditional farmhouses, but it's charming. The red shutters stand out, that’s for certain. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Jane is a proud host, head of the gossip chain, and is required to mention “My husband, the Sheriff” at least once per conversation.

You let the ladies ask their questions and nod politely as they give you the required chorus of condolences. You feel the shift when Jane steers the conversation to what they all want to know. “Now, I don’t mean to spread gossip, but some folks were wondering why you rented a place here instead of goin’ home to your family.”

Your shoulders stiffen, ‘so much for not putting me on the spot’ you think, but you still smile politely as you answer. “I have no other family. My daddy was gone when I was a girl and my momma dropped me off with an aunt and uncle when she was with husband number three and I don’t know where she is. They said it was the first thing she did that made a lick of sense,” you try to joke. “Well, they didn’t exactly approve of me and Jimmy, so when we married they told me not to go back.”

“And the boy’s other kin?”

“Ain’t no other kin. Jimmy’s family was small, they’re gone now.”

“Well, ain’t you a tragedy,” she says in a chirpy, high voice. 

Your face tightens and you stare at your lap, “We get by,” you weakly mutter. 

They all assure you that they have some nice gentlemen they can introduce to you, and go on about how fortunate you are they are pulling you into their group. You hear about faceless people and their minor transgressions, but get bored with it fairly quickly and use the time to look over the Bodecker home. It’s nice, a mixture of modest and a few state-of -the-art updates. There’s more dust than you expect, the sofa cushions look worn down, with only a few photos on display. The sheriff’s face shrouded in shadows in the one you can see, but you figure their son must take after him since he doesn’t have the pinched look his mother seems to naturally have.

You don’t even meet ‘her husband, the Sheriff’ until your third Tuesday afternoon of cards at their home. Jane herself is practically giving a campaign speech since the election so close. You never paid a lot of attention to local politics, and you try to give her your attention, but when she starts to ramble on it’s just too much. You happen to look to the side to avoid rolling your eyes and catch just when he strolls in, as if on cue with the uniform all perfectly in place. He scans the group of women until he stops on you, eyes lighting up with interest.

Your own breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as he removes his hat and looks you over.

“Well,” he drawls, “You must be the sweet new thing that’s got all the fellas in town rioting.”

You have to look down, lest the embarrassment make you combust.

“Now, Lee,” Jane scolds, “That’s no way to say hello. Come over here and introduce yourself properly.” She guides him over, and you almost say it with her when she recites, “This is my husband, the Sheriff.”

“Apologies, miss. I know you aren’t trying to get them all riled. Janey told me ‘bout your husband. War is Hell, shame to be losing boys like that.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours, his hold firm and warm and you are hesitant to let go.

“I appreciate that, thank you, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods, eyes flicking over you one more time. “What are your plans in this lovely town of ours?” 

“Oh. Well,” you freeze up for a moment, it’s the first time someone’s asked and you don’t have your answer prepared. “Well, I was thinking that I would get a job. We get by right now, but once my boy is in school, I would like something else to do.”

Jane jumps on your answer, “Let’s just see if we can’t find you a bachelor around here. Plenty of boys can use someone to take care of ‘em, but if you want a man who will be home on time, you stay away from any of the deputies. I can’t remember the last time Lee wasn’t busy with something or other from the county. I suppose that’s the life we’ve chosen though, isn’t it?”

Her voice sounds overly sweet, but you can sense the daggers in her words. It’s the way he reacts, shifting on his feet and rolling his jaw like he’s annoyed. Jane doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the cards in her hand. Some of the other ladies nod, but the sheriff just lowers his head before he pulls Jane to the side to talk to her quietly.

You track his movements, fascinated until you shake yourself out of it. It’s been years since you felt like that or even saw a man that caught your attention - not since Jimmy. It’s alarming, unnerving.

The wave of guilt that washes over you is more than you can handle. 

“Please excuse me, but we must be going.” You get up without waiting for any response and practically yank your son right out of the house as Jane calls after you that she will see you again soon.

You brush off the incident after having some time to think, convinced that it is just because you were caught off guard, and try to go on as normally as you can.

Your days end up filled with social calls, running errands or helping your landlady, and keeping your son busy. He asks to play with the Bodecker boy nearly every day, but you try your best to keep your distance when you can, especially when she starts trying to arrange dates for you even when you politely decline.

You look at the other ladies sometimes and wonder how many of them are just tolerating her the way you do. There’s just something grating about the way her voice goes especially nasally when she has something not-very-Christian to say, or the way she talks so openly and obscenely about the apparent whorehouse in town. She doesn’t even seem the least bit shameful when she begins to complain about her sister-in-law and the trouble she gets up to despite her brother being the sheriff.

Sheriff Bodecker, on the other hand, is a bit more friendly than you anticipated, expecting him to be cold or rude, but usually he’s the one pushing his wife to extend a coffee or supper invitation your way and making small talk when you are still around when he gets home from work or if he catches you around town. Your own mind suspects that it’s maybe just a sense of civic duty to know his neighbors, but it’s nice to have company nonetheless. 

Conversation with him comes easily. He talks with you about interesting news stories, about the boys, about some of the other towns, and even plans for the county. It’s interesting, not just debate on whether the new curtains chosen by someone or other are tacky. There are times you get lost talking with him and need to be corralled back in by Jane or Steven getting antsy.

The way he draws your eye is a mixture of curiosity and interest. It makes you notice when he’s driving the patrol car or when you see him around town. You catch how tired he seems at the end of the days, how he’s usually got a piece of candy to slip to kids when they come by and are brave enough to ask. You notice how he knows everyone in town and seems to have an eye on everything, checking in at the shops and breaking up the young men when they start to roughhouse.

In a place like this, Jane Bodecker is far from the only gossiper in town, so while she might not share much about herself or her husband, plenty of others do. Some of the things they say are just nitpicking and you try to drown it out. They’ve been decent to you since your arrival, but it’s hard to ignore the constant whispers of how power went right to their heads.

When the election is over and she gets the right to continue to say “My husband, the Sheriff” you start to really see what they say. She loses the facade of playing the good wife, but still hosts her weekly card meetings to keep up to date. Instead of just coffee and tea, she starts slipping sips of whiskey and gives her opinion a bit more freely than before, and often hurling insults anywhere they can land.

It’s painful to watch her put down everyone, but especially the sheriff when he gets in her way. When you catch him sending a frustrated look at her turned back or rolling his eyes at her complaints about the town and its people, you pretend not to notice and remember to keep a smile on. Her outbursts get more and more unhinged and brazen, and the defeat and exhaustion in his stance makes you ache. There’s a hurt you can’t vocalize without overstepping, but it eats at you, chips at your patience bit by bit.

When the sheriff pulls the cruiser over one day while you’re walking between stores to say hi and make some small talk, you’re pleased. He seems less worn down, it’s nice to see.

“Oh, Sheriff, you’ve got some good timing,” you reach into one of your shopping bags, pulling out a paper bag of hard candies you bought from the candy shop. “While doing the washing, I found a handful of wrappers. Turns out the boys were getting into your candy stash. Thought you might need a refill.”

You hand him the bag and the smile he gives you in return makes your chest tighten up and ache.

“Sweet things from a sweet thing, thank you darlin’.” 

You bit down on your lips, desperate to not react to his flirtatious words. “It’s nothin’, Sheriff.”

“Not to me.”

You start to sway from foot to foot, looking down at the sidewalk with a hum and trying to come up with something else to say. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before his radio crackles with a call from the station. You take the opportunity to make your exit.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

He shoots a glare at the radio, but looks back at you with what you could only describe as longing. “Sure will, Sweets.” Usually something like that would sound condescending, but from him it sounds endearing. He winks and pulls the car away, talking to the dispatcher while he drives.

‘Sweets...sweet thing...darlin’’ his voice repeats over and over in your head, fingers trembling and clumsy with the rush they give you and the way your heart races.

You get nearly sick when you recognize the feelings you’re having. It’s like it was when you were first with Jimmy. When you couldn’t even look him in the eyes because you felt too overwhelmed by your feelings for him. When you flushed and overheated when he got close and said pretty things. When you used to hold onto his hand and promise yourself that you would care for him every day and prove your love to him.

That’s when you realize you’re coveting another woman’s husband.

It’s Thursday, which means you need to head down to Main Street to visit the pharmacy for your landlady, Mrs. Martins, and gather some groceries for the week. You had made plans with Jane to let the boys play together while you took ran errands. You don’t have a good excuse to change the plan, but you can’t help but ask again, “You sure you don’t mind him being here?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, a bit wider and more manic than usual, “Now if that handsome Wilford boy happens to ask you for supper, don’t you worry about rushin’ back, ya hear?”

You laugh at her latest unsubtle attempt, “I will keep it in mind, thanks.” She and a few others had started to meddle, putting eligible bachelors in your path and setting up dates on your behalf. You do try. You talk to them, let them flirt, but none hold your interest. They’re boys - lanky and lean, still all reckless and rowdy. Not what you’re looking for, nothing like the solid, filled-out figure of a man, someone secure and stable and in a uniform. But that’s something to think about another day.

Wilford does indeed ask. 

You do not feel so inclined to take up the offer, especially when he pinches the round of your ass as he asks you to consider dessert before any supper. 

He has you pressed against the wall outside the hardware store, letting the sun blind you and bring tears to your eyes as the bricks snag the delicate threads of your dress.

He only backs away when a loud voice booms out, “There a problem here, son?”

He turns his head to find Lee pulled to the side of the road, window down and arm resting on the frame, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“No sir, Sheriff, just makin’ some supper plans, ain’t we?” Wilford looks back at you with a leer. Your hands press flat against the building and your knee twitches with the urge to jerk up and hurt him.

“I thought we were expecting you tonight, isn’t that right?” Lee asks you pointedly. 

Your attacker looks back at Lee, then to you, and you nod. Finally, you’re given some space. 

“I imagine you need to be moving along then?” Lee checks, waiting impatiently for Wilford to answer.

“Yessir.” He gives you a wicked grin and spins away to go back down the street. “Maybe another time when you’re free.”

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at his back as you glare.

Lee taps the side of the cruiser, “C’mere.”

You take a shaky breath and gather yourself with a nod before taking the few steps across the sidewalk. Leaning down you take a moment to look him over in his uniform, the badge gleaming in the sunshine and eyes clear blue as the sky.

“You alright, Sweets?” he asks, voice low and gentle. He’d taken to calling you that since the candy incident, always in that same tone - like it’s precious and important. The way it hits you right in the center of your chest hurts more than the physical damage done a moment ago. You know he isn’t asking if your heart is aching, or if you’re alright being lonely, or any of the ways you’re feeling it right now, but it strikes you in an unexpected way.

“I’m fine,” you smile tightly, “Thank you for checking.”

“These boys just don’t know how to handle themselves when they see a pretty lady.” Your cheeks ache as you try to keep from beaming at the off-hand comment. “Ya know, I’m getting ready to head on home, you need a ride that way? I’m guessing your boy is stirrin’ up some shit with mine?” He turns and scans the road and sidewalk around you, fidgeting a bit as he asks.

“I still have to make another stop and my car is at the end of the block, but thank you.” You stand up.

“Well, I mean it, you and Steven stay for supper tonight, I’ll square it with Jane.”

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

“No worries, darlin’.” He winks, taps his fingers on the shell of the door by the painted logo and waits until you nod in agreement. “See you soon, then.” And with a nod he pulls off the curb.

You watch the cruiser drive away, then look up and down the street, but no one else is there. You finally manage to draw in a full breath, and rush to get to the cool air of the pharmacy to ease the flush burning you from the inside out.

You make it back to the Bodecker’s before the sheriff, glad to have a few moments to smooth things over with Jane since she clearly had not expected you to turn down the date she arranged for you.

“He wasn’t too much of a handful, was he? I told him before I left that he better mind you today.”

She waves you off, sitting back down at the table with her abandoned cigarette in the tray and a small glass of brown liquor.

“Well, the boys’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure. They’ve been running circles round the whole damn house.” She ashes the cigarette before taking another puff and settling against the backrest of the chair.

You take a moment to look over the kitchen, a pot is just about to boil over so you make your way to it. “Can I help you out with anything? Give you a moment to freshen up ‘fore Lee gets home?” 

“I suppose that’s the least you can do.” Her cheeks draw in another puff and she hums, taking her glass with her as she goes to their bedroom.

The boys run inside, breathless and sweaty, both shouting while they tell you about a nest they found outside before you order them off to get washed up themselves. You look down the hall, waiting to see if Jane was on her way back or if she was expecting you to finish her cooking. Rather than let it burn, you do just that, taking care of the potatoes, adding a few seasonings as you go, and pulling out the meatloaf from the oven. 

The screen door squeaks and boots thud through the house when Lee enters and makes his way to the kitchen. You nervously look over your shoulder, catching him leaning against the door jamb, spinning his hat in his hand, a soft smile on his lips as he looks your way.

“This is a sight. If I didn’t know better I’d think I wandered into the wrong house.” 

You let out a bit of a nervous laugh, then look back down to the greens you were tending to, “I am so sorry, I kept your wife busy longer than I should’ve. She’ll be out in just a minute.” You go back to busying yourself with finishing up the meal.

“Not complainin’,” he mutters under his breath, but you still hear it and it makes your breath hitch. Jane could set you on edge with her snide remarks, so could Lee, but for completely different reasons - some that had been dormant for so long you didn’t know what to do. 

Just then Jane makes her grand reappearance, hair freshly combed and lips tinged with a touch of color; her cheeks look ruddy, but you can’t tell if it’s rouge or flush from the alcohol she’s been sipping.

“Don’t you go adding too much milk to my potatoes, nobody likes ‘em all runny. Here, let me,” she says and nudges you out of the way, “See you gotta mix in just a little bit right there.”

She overpours anyway, her hands moving unsteadily as she mashes the potatoes up, making them runny just like she warned you about. 

From behind you, you see Lee go to the table, picking up the liquor bottle and examining the contents, making marks with his fingers against the side of the bottle and shaking his head. He takes a swig himself and sets it back down.

He mumbles something about being sober, then walks down the hall to where Jane disappeared, stopping to say something to make the boys giggle on the way before they wrestle each other at the bathroom sink to wash up for supper. 

The meal starts off quiet, just the utensils scraping along the plates, but Jane being the gracious host, finally tries to perk it up with conversation.

“I know Wilford might be a little rough ‘round the edges for someone from a bigger town, but there are still several other young men I can introduce you to,” she offers, unprompted.

You choke a little before you recover and finish chewing your bite of food.

“You needn’t go through the trouble, Mrs. Bodecker. Really.” 

“It’s just, you’re so young to be widowed already and all alone. What kinda home will it be for the boy with no man around? And don’t you want more kids? I bet you just glow. Some of the ladies at my bible study wouldn’t mind setting you up.”

The idea makes you squirm. No, you aren’t dead inside, but there’s no way for you to get what - who you really want.

The sheriff speaks up then. “My old man took off on my ma, sister, and me. That’s just the way shit happens sometimes,” he says and you feel the dark cloud start to clear just a bit. You nod at him, acknowledging the little bit of affirmation.

“What was your husband like?” Jane presses, digging a little further into that painful wound. “Maybe that will help me out.”

Your Jimmy didn’t have much to give you, but he gave you all he could. He gave you the kind of love that made your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach swoop with butterflies. Your eyes flick toward Lee and you think again about how alike they seem to you, handsome, intuitive, assertive, strong-willed. He catches your gaze and pauses his chewing for a brief second while he waits for your answer. 

“He was a good man, strong and fair. I’d like to think he and Mr. Bodecker would’ve gotten on quite well,” you finally say, smiling kindly at them both in turn.

Lee’s lips curl into a smile while he finishes chewing, then sits back with a stretch. “You’re makin’ me sound like an old man,” he whines, “Call me Lee when I’m not on duty.”

“Yes sir,” you automatically reply. “Lee.”

His smile grows. “Say, Janey? Why don’t you go get that jug of wine up for us?”

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

“It’s nothin’ special, someone up the road makes it. Tastes better than that church wine, but don’t burn like the shine some other folks are brewin’ up.”

Jane comes back with three glasses and pours generously for you all, her own motions increasingly sloppy from her afternoon drinking.

You sip at it, the taste a little tart, but not as acidic and thank them for their generosity.

“Jane, you do something different with the seasoning tonight?”

“No,” she answers, then goes right back to her chat with you, you think about speaking up, but she goes back to leading the conversation. “So, you still thinking about becoming a working gal?”

“Not right away, but yes.”

“Oh?” Lee asks, “Something at the diner? I think the grocery is hiring?”

“Nuh uh,” her voice takes on a nasty tone, “Nothing like that for her. She went to secretary school.” The lilt in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t care for that little fact. “Can you believe that? School just to learn to file a paper or take a message.”

“There’s more to it than that,” you quietly defend.

“Jane, what the hell do you know? You haven’t worked a day in your life?” Lee asks.

Jane rolls her eyes, body slumping a bit in her chair. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure you don’t go working at the Tecumsah.” She snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “That’s where Lee’s sister works. I told you ‘bout her before.” She gives you a look. “That place is a den of sin, if you know what I am gettin’ at.”

“You’re are gonna spoil my appetite talkin’ like that,” he says. He drops his fork and you startle, his glare at his wife making clear this is another sore subject. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mutters. “I’m gettin’ tired of mending the buttons on your clothes.”

Your jaw nearly drops. You wring your napkin on your lap and scramble for something to change the subject and break the tension, “Jane, there are such lovely flowers planted right by the library, is there a gardening club around here that you haven’t told me about?”

She’s bored by the topic, but it does enough to distract her and send her on a tangent. You nod and hum while you pick at your food. Occasionally you glance to Lee at the side and find him looking at you appreciatively.

You keep turning the conversation away from yourself, getting her to talk about anything you can as she keeps refilling and sipping down more of her wine. 

You use the next lull in conversation to make your exit.

“This has been lovely, and I am so thankful for everything today, but we really oughtta get back home. I need to make sure Mrs. Martins gets her items from the pharmacist and I need to try to fix the old projector she’s given me.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lee asks, leaning forward.

“No idea,” you laugh. “I was hoping to puzzle it together.”

“I can take a look for you,” he offers.

“If you have a moment,” you turn to Jane, “And you don’t mind sparing him.”

She scoffs and waves her fingers, “Nah, take Robert with you.”

He grunts in response while the kids leap up, excited for more time together. You do what you can to clean up and ease the load for Jane, but she’s getting more irritable by the minute, so you shuffle to the door to leave.

You head to the driveway where your car’s parked, waiting for him outside while the boys chase each other around the cars. He steps out the door, swinging his key ring on his fingers, looking at ease without the uniform on, but still strutting with an air of authority. It makes your stomach swoop.

“The Martins place? What road is that on again?” he asks jarring you out of your staring.

“Just follow me, Sheriff. I mean - Lee,” You nod as you get into the driver’s seat, Steven climbing in on the other side.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He mutters it loud enough that you hear him. The tilted, teasing grin on his face as he climbs into his own car almost makes you certain it was his intention.

When you get out, there’s a lump in your throat and the air suddenly feels heavy. Thankfully, the short walk up your drive is quiet, the sheriff walking leisurely next to you and laughing at the boys as they race each other down the sidewalk. 

“I gotta go in the back way,” you swallow thickly as you tell him while you open up the gate, “There’s a private staircase for us there.”

He nods and follows. 

When you enter the small apartment, you’re grateful that you don’t have much to fuss over and that it is tidy by default.

“Why don’t you boys go play with the Lincoln Logs or race cars? Nothing too loud right now,” you suggest and push them off toward the small room Steven occupies. “I got the parts all together right here, but I think something is missing.” You point to the box with the projector parts and reels.

“No problem,” Lee’s voice is quiet in your small space. He takes out the parts and starts to fit things together, checking a few switches here and there after a couple of minutes before patting the top of it with a, “There you go.”

You smile widely, “That’s it? Really?”

“That’s it, Sweets,” he matches your smile.

You suddenly hate the idea of him leaving so quickly, so you look around for something else.

“Coffee?”

He nods. “It’s like you read my mind,” there’s a glint in his eye as he gives you a generous once-over.

You feel a flush and quickly turn away to the kitchen.

Your hands tremble as you fill the kettle with water and scoop grounds into the press.

The boys break into a fit of giggles and before you can call after them, you feel the warm presence of Lee shuffle up behind you. His boots scuff against the floor as he stops, then seconds later his arms cage you in from behind, his palms resting against the edge of the countertop.

His breaths are deep, his nose just tickling along the neckline of your dress and you feel your back stiffen at the rush.

“You’re so lovely Sweets,” he whispers.

Your breath shakes as you suck it in. “S-sheriff,” you swallow thickly, “Lee? What’re you doing?”

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

You remain still, unable to whisper anything but his name again.

“I see the way you look at me,” he presses a kiss to your skin that’s so gentle and tender but nearly makes your knees buckle. “Like you want somethin’.”

“I’m not - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you weakly deny.

One arm leaves the counter to wrap around your middle, pulling you even closer to him while he steps right up behind you, the whole front of him up against your back. The movement makes you gasp and arch just slightly. You’re unable to catch yourself from rolling your head back to lean against him fully and feeling him grunt.

“You don’t need to make any excuses. You want me, dontcha?” he talks with his lips pressed right against your neck, heavy breaths tickling at your hairline.

God, do you want him. The sudden feeling of a warm, masculine body against you is something you didn’t realize you missed so much. For years it’s just been you and your boy and focusing on the day to day, not thinking about the way a strong arm feels pulled around you with fingers just tickling at your sensitive skin - until suddenly that’s exactly what is happening. And how you’ve missed it, your muscles nearly seize up with tension as you try to fight how good it feels.

It’s like trying to drag yourself from a dream, slow and muted as you try to make sense of everything at once; a sharp clarity punches through hard and fast.

“Your wife,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, ready to try to pry him off.

“That fucking pig? I don’t love her, I don’t want her. She don’t want me either.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” you tell him and start to pull away, squirming away but getting nowhere since he doesn’t budge an inch. He allows you to spin around between himself and the countertop. “Lee? What is this? What’re you doing?”

It’s a stupid question. You know what this is. You can remember moments like these with your late husband, but Lee is not your husband. You know his wife. You just spent the evening with her in their home.

He doesn’t answer. Instead his free hand starts to skim up along your side until his thumb catches at the curve at the bottom your breast, then slides up so that he can rub his thumb back and forth over your dress, teasing at your hardened nipple.

It makes you whimper and nearly fold in half with how sensitive you feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he coos, his lips parted and eyes tracking the movement of his thumb.

You lift your arms to his shoulders, uncertain yet if you’re planning to push him away or pull him close when you hear the quick footsteps of the boys.

Lee steps back to give you some distance and your hands flutter mid-air as you try to compose yourself.

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

“No, he keeps takin’ the blocks I’m using.”

Some kind of clarity forms and you rush out a solution for them, “Why don’t you get out your TinkerToys and split it all up? Alright? Go back to the other room,” you nudge them away.

Problem solved, they run back to the room, leaving you standing in the kitchen, Lee lingering just feet away and the half-finished coffee press on the counter.

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

He grunts and shakes his head ruefully, “She’s probably passed out by now.”

“Oh,” you nod. You search for something, anything to excuse yourself and catch your breath, “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

You slip out of the kitchen and into the door just down the hall. Taking a moment to relieve yourself then press a cool rag to your cheeks. You’d nursed the glass of wine Jane had poured, so you knew deep down you weren’t tipsy, you were just overrun by the feelings the sheriff gave you. Once you get your first full breath in minutes, you feel better, calmer and more controlled. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide - you just need to send him on home.

You barely crack open the bathroom door when it’s pushed open wide, Lee wedging in when it’s wide enough and nearly slamming it shut behind him.

“Don’t hide from me, Sweets,” is all he says before he’s got one arm around your middle again, and the other holding the back of your neck while he presses his lips against yours. After gasping in surprise, you instinctively return the kiss - your tongue and lips tentative against his dominating mouth. 

It’s strange - all of it so strange after so long. It’s been years since your last kiss and you feel clumsy, out of practice, but he doesn’t hesitate one bit, doesn’t seem turned off by your uncoordinated motions and hands that can’t keep still over his middle and shoulders.

He takes in a deep breath, pausing for just a second to position himself better, then he’s back on you, and you feel ready for him this time. One hand resting on his chest while the other hooks up around his neck, your fingers stroking through the soft, short hairs at the back of his head. He turns the both of you, pressing you against the vanity sink.

“Lee,” you whimper when he wedges a leg between yours.

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

His kisses are relentless and make you light-headed, gasping for breaths every time he slightly lets up. His hands push and pull, struggling against your dress and your undergarments until he’s freed one breast and can drop his head to suckle at your hard peak.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, mind painfully aware of the children in the room nearby. You crack open an eye to make sure the door is still closed and try to focus on the sounds the kids are making, but his tongue and lips are too distracting. He pulls as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, greedily swirling his tongue all over the sensitive bud, and pulling away with a loud pop.

You slap at his shoulder while he just looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Feels good, right?” He places his hand to cup your breast, thumb flicking at your nipple. “Let me have you, I’ll make you feel so good, my sweet girl. Please?”

His own eyes close as he ruts up against you, his hard length pressing against your hip and sending a tremor through your body, practically shaking your bones. You don’t move though, your hands stay frozen where you hold onto him, but he continues to lead and coax you along.

One wide hand holds you at the back of your neck, just holding you in place. His mouth moves across your cheeks and at the hinge of your jaw. He whispers quiet promises of satisfaction, telling you how lovely you are and confirming every word with a kiss. His other hand leaves your breast after one final and quick pinch and grabs at the bottom of your dress. The fabric bunching in his fist as he gathers it until he can feel your thigh.

Then he teases you with just the tips of his fingers, sliding right up and over til he meets where your thighs meet. It tickles, makes you shake a little, and then you’re sucking in a hard gasp when he keeps going until he pets and presses over your sex with the pads of his fingertips.

“So wet,” he says on an exhale, pressing right where you feel your excitement leaking. “You want me too. It’s alright.”

To prove his point, he presses harder, flattening his hand until he’s cupping you and making your body jerk between him and the sink. You bend your knees to open your thighs wider with the touch, and he groans and presses hard against you again, the heel of his palm putting pressure to your throbbing clit. You struggle to not hook your leg right over his hip to let him in.

“Lee,” you start to beg, “Please. Oh my god, please.”

It’s so overwhelming you start to sob, the tears already prick at the corners of your eyes. Just being touched, feeling the warmth of him, and the words - it’s all that you remembered being with a man to be and more. His hand keeps a rhythm against you, driving you higher. You hadn’t had a man’s touch in years, but suddenly you need Lee like you need air.

“Please,” you say again. Your body tingles with electricity that has nowhere to go.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, baby. I’m gonna take care of ya. Am I what you need?”

“Yes,” tears start to roll down your cheeks. He pulls back slightly until he can slip his fingers underneath your panties, gliding right through your arousal. You feel two of his fingers slide into you, and you squeeze around them instantly.

“Fuck,” he grunts. Your wetness drips down his fingers into his palm. He presses the heel of it against you again, right against your sensitive clit this time. “Come on my fingers, sweetness.”

He fucks you with his hand, his thick, solid fingers caressing you while he sends jolts of pleasure through you with pressure on your sensitive button. You squirm to get away, but the hand still at the back of your neck tightens and holds you down, making you take it.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “It’s alright.”

And that’s it. You freeze for a moment as the pleasure peaks and then you’re trembling as the shocks of it rush through you in a blaze. You can hear the wetness drowning his fingers as he keeps pumping them into you while you clench over him repeatedly and sob as quietly as you can, which must not be very quiet because he starts to shush you and slow the movement of his hand, gently attempting to calm you down.

“You’re okay, s’alright baby, just breathe, c’mon,” you hear him coach, but all you can focus on is the thumping beat of your heart as it races and trying to catch your breath between sniffles, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

His hand slides out from your panties to grab you steady at your waist, the hand from your neck moves so he can use his thumb to wipe away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours and tells you to breathe with him.

You blink your eyes open, eyelashes glittering with wetness and you take a minute to focus. Once things are clear, you tilt your head back to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and rosy, and his eyes - they nearly glow as he looks you over. It’s something to see - awe, tenderness, pride all in the twitches of his lips as his lips turn up with a smile.

“Sweets, will you touch me?” he asks. For such a big man, his voice is suddenly so small.

“Lee, I can’t-I haven’t…” you struggle to find the words.

“It’s alright, that’s alright,” he assures you, circling your wrist with his fingers still sticky from your arousal, and guiding them to the bulge in his trousers. You flinch, but don’t pull away, your arm tenses, but goes with the motion. He presses your palm against the solid length, pushing down to give him some relief. His hips press against you in return and once he’s sure you aren't going anywhere, he lets go of your wrist, then starts to undo the belt and button in quick movements. He tugs the waistband of his trousers and boxers down together, just to release his cock.

You feel the fabric move under your palm, but keep pressing against him, your hand sliding just slightly out of remembered instinct. When the fabric of his boxers slides away and you’re met with the heat of his cock, you gasp. Your hand wraps around him, fingers circling around his shaft to hold him and pulling a strangled moan from him.

“Shit-fuck,” he hisses. “Won’t be long.” He wraps his hand over yours, pulling your fist up and down over him while he pumps his hips into it. Precome drips down from the slit, easing the glide. 

His eyes close and he presses his temple to yours, his face pulls up in concentration, focusing on the pleasure, “You’re so soft, so sweet,” he rasps, “Want you so bad, want you all to myself.”

You can imagine it, if you’re ready to be totally honest, you have imagined it.

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

His lips meet yours roughly for a long press, then he tilts his head and licks at the seam of your lips, making you open up to him. His hand and yours start to speed up, he keeps guiding you up and down, just the slightest twist at the head with each stroke.

The kiss turns sloppy, more sharing air and pecks than anything as he spirals with the pleasure you’re helping to give him.

“You’re gonna -you’re gonna make me-” with a pained expression, he nudges you away, his hand stroking frantically as he leans over your sink until he starts to come, streaks hitting the porcelain as he chokes down groans. You watch his neck and face go red, trying not to watch, but you can’t help yourself and catch the way his cock twitches with his release, all swollen and red. You don’t think you could possibly blush more, but still fire burns underneath your skin.

When he finishes coming, he reaches for you again, pulling you into another hard kiss. “God, darlin’. Fuck,” he whispers while he attempts to catch his breath. “Fuck. Haven’t been tugged off like that since I was a deputy.” He chuckles, the laugh coming out in hard puffs of air.

You struggle to look at anything in the bathroom, eyes straying back to Lee, to his softening cock, to the come dripping slowly in the sink basin. Just then you hear the boys start to giggle and reality hits you again, making your chest seize up in panic.

“Oh, Lee. No,” you raise a hand to your mouth and quickly rush out the door, piecing your wardrobe back together as you walk back into the kitchen. You hear the water run in the bathroom and murmuring as Lee talks to himself.

Your movement must have distracted the boys because they manage to sound like a stampede heading toward you. You wipe at your nose and eyes as best you can before you turn to see what they want.

Both the boys pause, but it’s your son that speaks up, knowing how you look when you cry. “Momma, you alright?”

Lee exits the bathroom then, shirt tucked back in, belt and trousers back in place - only the flush from the neck up giving anything away. His eyes bore into you with heavy emotion that you are ashamed that you can read so well - concern, sympathy, desire. A mixture that you remind yourself you don’t deserve.

“Yeah, baby. I am. You know I get sad sometimes, I’ll be fine. Are you boys ready to say goodbye for tonight? I think it’s well past your bedtime.”

You grab Steven and fuss with his hair, with his messy shirt, and then turn him around and hold him against you like a tiny human shield. “Say thank you to the sheriff for fixing the projector and for letting Robert play.”

“Thank you, sir,” your son dutifully responds.

Lee can see what you’re doing and he’s not happy with it, his mouth going flat and shoulders heaving as you pressure him into leaving.

He just nods, then nudges at Robert’s shoulder, “Say thank you for indulging us.”

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

You send Steven down the hallway to get ready for bed, and then you follow behind as they step toward the door, Robert too tired from a full day of play to put up a fight. Lee opens the door to the back steps, telling Robert to be careful going down. When the boy starts down a few, Lee turns back to you.

Before you can react, he’s giving you another kiss, quick but meaningful. “We’re not done,” he whispers. 

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

He gives you a long look before stomping down the steps. “Til next time, Sweets.”

...

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Not sure if this has been done but if not I believe it’s time for a beach ask-isode (sorry thatwasreallybad)

Anyways! What does everyone (Maxson and gang leaders included) do while at the beach? What kind of suits do they wear?

(Ah yes, only a wedding post would top this masterpiece. Also this is going to be more on the Pre-War! Or Modern! Au spectrum since yknow..radioactivity)

Cait:

•Abosuletly HATES the beach.

•Bitches about literally everything. Sand? Fucking despises it. Getting wet? No thanks. THE SMELL?? Sis, no.

•Gets burnt AF as well. Miss Ma'am ends up looking like a boiled crab after maybe a couple minutes out in the sun.

•The only thing she enjoys is checking people out.

•either way, she goes and wears something comfortable. A bandeau and some shorts are her go to.

Curie:

•Rather likes the beach.

•She loves collecting seashells and seeing if she can capture hermit crabs (which she promptly returns to their home after taking a picture)

•She would wear one of those one pieces complete with a cute skirt and an oversized sun hat.

•SUNSCREEN ENFORCER

Danse:

•Has one helluva time running. As a matter of fact, he loves nothing more than to run on the beach at sunrise....however this is more of a social event we're talking about-

•Passive aggressively admonishes his "friends" to wear sunscreen.

•Will actually partake in alcohol is it's presented. Make sure he doesn't overdue it- Hancock is patiently waiting for him to get lit and do something stupid so he can have blackmail material. DRUNK DANSE WILL PROVIDE PLENTY OF IT.

•wears tragically boring red and orange swim trunks and that's it. Doesn't understand why Cait keeps whistling at him when he takes his shirt off.

Deacon:

•He's the type to go sun tanning and end up forgetting his sunglasses are still on. Oh well, just an excuse to keep wearing them.

•Definitely instigates water fights.

•Wears the most outlandish, neon green speedo. Scars the masses.

Gage:

•Loves the beach but will bitch about it being too hot nonstop.

•Mainly just floats out into the open water on a lounge float and sips lemonade. No one is stupid enough to try to play a prank on him anyways- they already know he isn't above drowning someone over being thrown into the water unexpectedly.

•wears a horrendous green muscle shirt and yellow swim trunks.

Hancock:

•Life of the party, as always.

•Blasts music, indulges in whatever drugs he can and has an overall wonderful day filled with debauchery.

•Provided the beach is okay with it, he'd prefer to go nude. However if that isn't an option, he'll rock an American flag speedo.

Macready:

•I know it's soft, but he prefers to bring Duncan along. So no terrible parties for Mac, unfortunately.

•He makes sandcastles and plays "soldiers" with his little boy before going with Curie to collect seashells for Duncan to add to his collection.

•For once ditches the hat and rocks a Grognak themed ensemble. Duncan hates it and often pretends he doesn't know him.

Mags:

•As a woman who enjoys the finer things, she spends a little extra money to "party up" her beach time in an expensive cabana.

•Prefers to sit out and relax, getting some sun as she smokes as many cigarettes as humanely possible and knocks back bottles of wine.

•Wears a pair of those really nice, oversized sunglasses and a simple black bikini...and probably those ridiculous platforms.

Mason:

•Despite his wealth, he "roughs" it and spends his beach time like a normal person...well..as normal as Mason can get.

•He spends the majority of his time in the water like a damn idiot, swimming until he gets sick from accidentally ingesting too much salt water.

•Very, VERY tempted to flip Gage's float over.

•Wears flamboyant flamingo themed swim trunks.

Maxson:

•Another one of the pathetically rich, buuut he doesn't overdo it. Sure, he may also rent out a nice cabana but he spends the most of his time underneath an umbrella reading whatever novel he's invested in at the moment.

•Will sit there and read for as long as possible, maybe only breaking to play a game of volleyball with Danse and Preston. Even then, his top priority is to get back to either reading or jotting down the next key points for a future meeting.

•Wears some stupid designer like burberry. It's hideous but he doesn't care.

•uhhhh, don't entice him with alcohol either, it's not a good idea.

Nick:

•Loves going to the beach right as the sun is setting. He gets a small window of time to read before being able to fully appreciate how beautiful the scenery is as the moon rises.

•Keeps an eye on Hancock so the dude doesn't do anything too stupid, but pretends to "party" so Hancock doesn't catch wind that he's being supervised.

•He's the perpetual "parent" of the group and he accepts it.

•Wears a matching shirt and trunk set, usually in black.

Nisha:

•Surfs and proceeds to beat the shit out of Mason with her board when she's finished.

•Will actually go smoke and drink with Mags and have a decent time until they inevitably hit a snag and decide to not talk to each other for weeks again.

•Tries to instigate fights with Gage fueled by her hatred for him.

•Wears an expensive wetsuit.

Piper:

•Enjoys taking nice pictures of her friends and herself at the beach.

•Also joins in the volleyball game whenever she is done with said pictures.

•Gets bored easily and decides to go back to working on her next article...until she gets bored of that and decides to go swim.

•Wears a nice red and white polka dot two piece and some red sunshades.

Preston:

•Is the unofficial life Gaurd. Like no shit, he is on a damn mission. He'll fight a shark if he has to.

•Plays fetch with Dogmeat whenever he finally calms down.

•May even go scuba diving, just depends. He loves seeing the fish and different things in the water.

•Wears a cute pair of sunflower swim shorts.

X6-88:

•Doesn't show up. He hates the beach.

•Okay fine, if you force him into it...

•He'll more or less just sit where the waves crash onto shore.

•If shaun is there though, it's a whole new story. Oh yeah. If his best buddy Shaun is there, you bet your ass he will happily do whatever the kid wants him to. Piggy back ride? Right away. Go prank Maxson? In a heartbeat.

•Wears a grey and black striped pair of shorts.

[7wanderingpaws]

Mess We Made - first (m)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: arranged marriage au (not bbh), doctor AU, highschool AU (first chapter only), university AU, fluff, ANGST

Words: 9.4K

WARNINGS: mature content, unprotected sex, cheating (not bbh), terrible family relations

Quick A/N: Finally, the anticipated full story for this drabble is coming! This will have more chapters! I am a bit self-conscious about this one. But I think it is a good challenge to grow as a writer. Hopefully it worked. Please let me know what you thought? ^^

Plot: You were willing to put the both of you through suffering without realizing you might hurt Baekhyun's feelings in the process. Even though he was yours, you were never his. And he would not stand in the way anymore.

tags: @byunfirstlady​ (hope you dont mind the tag; you were interest and since its been ages I tagged you to let you know 🥺 if you want to be tagged/untagged please reply to this post)

parts: first -- second -- third -- fourth (final)

-

Mess We Made, part 1

“Psst,” you heard from your right side as you walked through the corridors of your high school. Before you even managed to look in the direction of where the sound came from, a hand grabbed you, swiftly bringing you into the darkness of the corner, the cold wall pressing into your back. Baekhyun came into view with his breath-taking smile as his lips hovered over yours, stretched out in a mischievous smile. “It's me.”

Instantly, you grinned, mimicking his wide smile. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, I found you first,” he whispered, and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle manner.

He had been your boyfriend since the second half of the first year in high school. You were now both seniors, ready to graduate and enter your chosen universities. You both chose the same one, the idea of not being able to see each other too ugly to risk going to different schools.

You felt Baekhyun's hands slide down your sides, reaching the hem of your short uniform skirt and his feather-like touch made you squirm and laugh right into his mouth. He followed suit with giggles. “It tickles,” you said, and looked into his smiley eyes.

He hummed, though didn't stop his wandering hand as he massaged the upper part of your thigh, the touch sending trembles down your legs, your heartbeat growing frantic. “But you like it. When I touch you there.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, growing red. “Yeah. But only when it's you.”

These final months in high school were those moments when boys were becoming very horny, the skirts of the uniforms girls had to wear driving some of them crazy. Baekhyun, thankfully, wasn't as affected, though you were thinking if it was because he already had access to you. You would tear his head off if he tried to touch another girl, but he just wasn't that type of a guy.

Same went for you, too. Baekhyun had a sharp gaze and if he saw a guy trying to lift your skirt up, he would just deal with them in his hapkido language, and nobody wanted that. Baekhyun was a literal martial arts superstar of the school. And also a terrible nerd. He was cool and nerdy. What a combo.

While that was him, the smiling, mischievous boy many girls grew a humongous crush on, you were the more unfortunate one, though many would immediately disagree. A daughter to a huge business company, money was something that was never an issue, to put it lightly. Having your own personal driver, needing to attend pilates classes to keep your form, visiting a dermatologist at least twice per month, eating small portions… everything that would scream rich, was basically you, as much as you hated it.

The reason for your hatred was simple: you didn't belong to Baekhyun's world. Likewise, he didn't belong to yours. But how would that define anything, when both of you were literally all over each other at any given opportunity, feelings too strong to fight them? Did social status really mean something? Baekhyun was studying hard to become a doctor, wanting to bring children to this world, and he had one of the best grade averages in the entire institution. Meanwhile, you, of whom it was highly expected of, didn't have it like him. Studying was not exactly your forte, and you ended up following your parents requirements of applying for business school, so that you would study something that was running in the family. As long as they did not intervene in your relationship with Baekhyun, you would accept and agree to anything. But Baekhyun was untouchable. No matter what would happen, it couldn't, by any means, include him and you always made sure about it.

“'Cause you are mine,” he murmured in your ear seductively, and you melted in his arms.

“That, I am. Always,” you replied breathily, standing on your tiptoes to crash your lips on his before anyone could catch you not spending the break outside of the building.

You just wanted to spend time with him before your family would whisk you away from him, like they always did. Rarely have you had the power to decide your free time, sitting at your father's meetings, mothers cocktails, boredly listening to conversations about money transactions that made you feel uneasy.

“Plans for tonight?” he asked as he gave your thigh a final squeeze before letting go, patting your skirt back down to its normal form.

You hummed, leaning back on the wall lazily, your chest pushed out. “Grandparents are coming over. From mother’s side,” you said, already tired at the idea of the dreadful encounter.

Baekhyun nodded, though you could sense he was a bit disappointed. He never said anything, though. It was safe to say he was used to the way things were working with your family. After all, it had been two years by now. Two years of your relationship. And with each passing moment, the both of you seemed to grow even fonder of each other. He never complained. He loved you.

“Sorry,” you sighed again, closing your eyes for a moment when you felt his palm on your cheek that forced you to open them again, his gaze gentle. He leaned in, nudging you with his nose.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, love.”

“Of course there is,” you replied passionately. “I really want to spend more time with you, Baekhyun.”

“You will. We will be together. Once university starts-”

“Can you understand that you consume my thoughts every second? And when I am not with you, the time just drags and it's like a small hell because I cannot see your face-”

Baekhyun kissed you, interrupting your small outburst. You moaned quietly, shyly, bringing him closer by his tie. He played with your lips, teasing you with his tongue, but he wouldn't go further than that. You were in school and as much as he was mischievous, he wouldn't go that far. “I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled brightly. “I love you, too.”

“And I will wait for you no matter how long it takes, okay? Don't feel sorry. I should study anyway,” he shrugged nonchalantly as if it really weren’t a big deal.

You smiled proudly while massaging his ear with your hand. “Always responsible, my prince.”

Just like you knew he would be, your driver was waiting for you, his face typically devoid of any emotions as you trudged to the school gates, ignoring the snickering gazes of students scattered around the entrance. Baekhyun was with you, hand in hand and just before you would reach the car, you stopped to kiss him goodbye. 

“Text me,” you demanded, looking into his eyes.

He nodded, and his long hair fell into his eyes. “I will.”

Not wanting to let go just yet, you took the opportunity and brushed his soft hair out of his eyes while he gently gazed into yours. 

“Promise me you won’t go against your parents,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet and hushed.

You focused on him, slowly retreating your hand from his hair. “What do you mean?” you asked, despite having a very good hunch. He knew your family very well, if not from what you have told him already, then from the experiences of when you would bring him home to study together and his parents would be cold and heartless, especially to you, not accepting your relationship with Baekhyun at all.

He sighed and looked somewhere else for a moment, letting the surroundings absorb in his mind before facing you. “I don’t want something happening to you. It just seems to me that the more you go against them, the more they will push you, mentally or physically. And I don’t want that.”

His worries made you feel warm. Someone actually cared for your well-being, unlike other people you were blood-related to. “I will be a good girl, hm?” you murmured, hearing your driver opening his door to get out, obviously impatient. “I will obey. For you.”

Baekhyun nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s the talk. Now go, before Mr Lee loses his cool,” he said, stepping away from you and nudging his head towards your driver who already opened your car door, obviously urging you to hurry.

You pressed your lips together and waved at your boyfriend one more time before turning and sliding inside the car, the door shutting loudly behind you, voicing the driver's dissatisfaction with your attitude.

Even if you wanted to wave at Baekhyun, you knew he wouldn’t see you. The windows were completely black.

You were dressing up for the dreaded dinner when your mother entered your room. Without knocking, of course. She looked at your dress of dark-red colour combined with a cute black bow on your back. The A skirt was hugging your curves just the right way and the hem stopped in the middle of your thighs that were covered in black stockings. Stylish, you thought.

“Slutty,” was what she said, frowning, her forehead wrinkled into three layers of skin. “Change it.”

You looked at her from behind your shoulder, sending her a poker face before facing your mirror again. “I like it. I won’t change it.”

Your mother sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re ridiculous. Who are you dressing up for? Your lover boy isn’t coming tonight.”

“And whose fault is that?” you fired back, hating whenever they as much as mentioned him. He was too good to be pronounced in their mouths. “It ain’t mine, mother. So stop irking me!”

“Watch your tone,” she said in a low voice before sighing deeply and shaking her head. “Listen. Your grandfather and grandmother will be here soon, so change. You know they are very conservative.”

“I’m not even showing skin,” you muttered, frustrated.

“You’re still a high school student. You aren’t supposed to be looking like this.”

Swiftly turning around, you walked to her slowly. “I’m not supposed to be having a chest? A butt? I am still growing, you know. Out of all people, you should know.”

“You have those because you eat more than you should and thanks to your boyfriend you are more horny than it’s okay for someone your age which leads you to have a big appetite,” she deadpanned. “So cover yourself up. This is not a strip club.”

Your mouth fell open, complete disbelief widening your eyes. She must have not been serious. But you knew she was, so what was more annoying was the fact that you still got angry and you still fought back, despite knowing their preferences for years. You tried to ignore the sting in your chest when she talked about food and about the way your body naturally worked. You were a hormonal teenager. Why couldn’t she understand?

Quickly remembering the promise you made to Baekhyun, you collected yourself and, although in pain, you nodded. But before you could answer, your mother continued: “Besides. Given the nature of our get-together today, you do need to look more responsible.”

That made you frown in confusion. “What does that mean?”

She smiled, though it was rather smug than anything else. “You will find out soon enough.”

“Mum!”

“Change,” she commanded, something dark flashing in her eyes before she walked out of the room.

Annoying tears burned in your eyes, and you quickly grabbed your phone, wanting to complain to Baekhyun, but he beat you to it and you found messages from him sent only a couple of minutes ago that immediately pacified your wild emotions.

i’m thinking of you ❤️ always

even now

and even now

and now too

gorgeous 😘🥰

You smiled through your tears, the need of wanting to be with him growing by tenfold. He melted all the negative emotions you had in yourself and you sat down on your bed, your eyes scanning the texts, the emoticons, and then the picture you had for him. He was being silly on it, wearing your sunglasses and pretending to be a girl group member looking seductive.

With a final look, you nodded to yourself, determined to follow what you had promised. 

Changing into a white shirt politely tucked into a black pencil skirt with your hair strictly tied into a knot, you looked like any worker in your father's company; not standing out, conservative and a little bit numb.

Only one thing was eating you away as you made your way downstairs to the huge dining hall, your parents already  welcoming your grandparents whose eyes gave you a strict look over. 

The nature of this dinner. 

What could that be?

All of the dinners had something into it. Your parents never did anything just for the sake of doing it. If there wasn’t something profitable in the action, they would never bother. But what did they want from your grandparents?

“Oh, finally you decided to show up. What are these manners, letting your old folks wait for you, hm?” Your grandmother’s words sounded like crow’s wailing. Annoying, terribly annoying. 

“Excuse me. Had to dress up properly for your company,” you replied in a calm tone, not paying attention to her nagging. You walked up to them and bowed politely, respecting them.

Your grandma scoffed, frowning at you while your grandfather’s eyes crinkled up a bit in a small smile, though he didn’t say anything besides nodding once to acknowledge your polite greeting. 

“Let’s just sit, shall we?” your father voiced, motioning to the prepared dining table adorned in a cream table cloth. “Before the food gets cold.”

“Yes, yes, we have things to discuss anyway,” rasped your grandmother as she sat down.

Your father was at the head of the table while your mother and you sat on his right, your grandparents on the opposite site. You ended up facing your grandfather for which you were thankful. He was one of the less evil. In fact, he barely ever showed any interest in the happenings around the dirty business your family was involved in.

Now that you thought about it, you didn’t know about him and your evil grandma. You had been secluded from any warm interaction since young age, so you never even bothered asking how they met and how they fell in love. How did grandfather even deal with someone like her was beyond your understanding.

Once your mother started talking in her superior tone, you concluded that your grandfather still managed to raise up someone like your mother. He probably wasn’t any better than the rest of the family.

“We have been in close contact with the rival company,” she started and you suppressed the need to roll your eyes.

Servants put all the food in front of you; seaweed soup, lots of side dishes, meat, fish, rice, rice cakes and corn tea. You usually liked the food but given you had to listen to another business talk, you lost your appetite.

“Their son is already in his thirties, so they requested the marriage as soon as our daughter is out of high school.”

You jumped in your seat, knocking your knee in the table rather painfully. You didn’t have time to curse and look at your mother, who continued talking as if nothing was happening: “Obviously we need to finish this deal before any more losses could happen to our business. Their company is overflowing with profit-“

“What are you talking about?” you snapped, not watching your tone that came out rude.

Your father frowned. “Your attitude is honestly disappointing. How can you talk to your mother in that to-“

“I am not getting married to anyone!” you shouted, growing hot-headed, your knee throbbing in pain. “I-I have a university to attend soon! How can I marry before getting a degree?! And I have a boyfriend-“

Your mother laughed drily. “How on earth can you even consider that boy?” she said, looking at you with utmost calmness. “He is just a middle-class boy.”

Your grandmother and father joined her in chuckles. “Don’t be silly,” said your grandmother. “It’s just a high school crush. It’s always about experimenting and not understanding what love is. Silly teenager stuff.”

“What do you know about love?” you asked doubtfully, turning to your grandmother with a death glare to which she returned it back.

“How dare you question your elders?! Calm down this instant and listen!”

If it were possible, fumes would be coming out of your nose and ears. You couldn’t believe what you just heard was true. It couldn’t be. You wouldn’t allow it.

“Besides,” started your father in a scolding manner, “you are not good at studies. We agreed to let you attend the university you chose, but your studies will be fruitless since you didn’t study as you were told to. You aren’t a man either,” he scoffed and gave a side eye to your mother who now froze. “But that isn’t your fault that you weren’t born a man. That’s someone else’s.”

Completely at loss for words, you fell back in your chair, devastated at what you just heard. Not only he degraded you, but he now attacked your mother.

In a sudden need to defend your mother as a woman rather than as your parent, you snapped: “It’s the amount of sperm that a man manages to put into a woman that decides the gender. If it’s anyone’s fault that I am a girl, it’s yours!”

Everyone went silent at what you just said, your father so shocked his mouth hung open. He blinked a few times, regaining his posture but you were already standing up. “I am not marrying anyone! I already have a boy-“

“So you do all the dirty stuff with this boyfriend of yours and that’s why your mouth is so nasty!” came your father’s voice like a thunder.

“She needs to break up with him. He is no good influence on her,” butted in your grandmother nonchalantly as she slurped her seaweed soup.

You snapped your eyes to her, and to your grandfather who was frowning down at his empty plate.

“I won’t break up with Baekhyun.”

“Then keep your delusions up. But once you're out of high school, the ceremony will take place,” said your mother resolutely, sending daggers your way. 

“I don’t want to do anything with your business,” you now said in despair. “I don’t want to own your company!”

Your father snickered drily in disgust. “You won’t own our company, daughter. You’re useless as it is, so we are going to merge the companies. That’s the only way we can save our hard work.”

You shook your hair. “No, I refuse!”

“You don’t have a choice,” shrugged your mother now turning back to her plate. “You can do whatever you want, but your fate is in our hands. That’s why,” she emphasized and looked at you, “for your own good, break up with your boyfriend. He is no good news. Save yourself the heartbreak. He is with you for the money anyway.”

You stood frozen, keeping the gasp in. Tears were spilling out of your eyes and you turned around, running back to your room, sobs leaving your mouth.

You always knew your family was a nightmare - cold, scary, emotionless. But this was too much for your young self.

All you wanted was warmth, safety and honest emotions.

All of those were what Baekhyun offered you.

He was more than just a boyfriend.

He was love.

That night, you didn't call Baekhyun, instead deciding to text him back to let him know that everything went fine. He was studying anyway, and if you wanted something, it was for him to become successful in a field that he was passionate about. Unlike you, who barely had any hobbies, let alone passions.

Finally crying yourself to sleep around 3am, your alarm went off too early in the morning, a strong headache first thing you felt as you turned off the blaring thing.

Sighing, you fell back on the comfortable pillows, their lavender smell engulfing your senses and momentarily offering a calming pat on your headache. Closing your eyes, you felt your eyes well up again, the idea of having to break up with Baekhyun just not adding up in your mind. How could you do that? Why would you deprive yourself of the only source of light you had in your life? For someone you never even met. Someone who seemed to be much, much older than you.

“I'm not doing it,” you whispered into the stillness of your room, your voice hoarse. Tears slid out of your eyes and down your sides until they tickled your ears. “I'm not.”

And with that, you faced your day; you washed up, put on your uniform, packed the necessary books and headed out, not saying your morning greetings, nor eating breakfast. Ignoring your surroundings, you went out not even waiting for your driver. You decided you will take the mundane route to school that day: bus and metro like Baekhyun did everyday.

“Hey, are you okay?” Someone’s fingers appeared in the line of your vision. Fingers all too familiar.

You looked up to see a worried Baekhyun, his shirt untucked and his tie loosen-up around his neck giving him the typical goofy, laid-back look that lived up very well to his personality. You managed to smile. “Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get to sleep much.”

“And why is that?” he asked, taking the closest seat to yours, looking around to check if the owner of the seat wasn’t there. When you pursed your lips, debating what to say, he added gently: “What is bothering you, hm? You know you can tell me.”

Releasing probably the nth sigh of that day, you closed your eyes for a moment before looking at him. “Let’s talk after school maybe. It’s not something to discuss here.”

Baekhyun nodded but you saw the rapid thinking his mind drifted off to. He could sense trouble, especially with your family. “Alright, let’s do that. But your driver-“

“He didn’t drive me to school, so he won’t be driving me from school,” you said in a monotone and Baekhyun raised an eyebrow at that.

“How did you come to school?”

You shrugged. “Like you do everyday. Public transport.”

Slowly, his mouth stretched to a soft, lopsided smile, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Enjoyed it?”

You mimicked his smile, his touch easing up the tension you couldn’t get rid of since last night. “Yeah, thoroughly. Only you were missing. Then it would be perfect.” 

His smile only grew and you turned your head slightly, kissing his hand before he retracted it, keeping the eye contact while he kissed the same spot your lips touched on his hand.

You watched in small awe and you giggled when he added a louder smooch. “You’re unbelievable.”

He let out a laugh, standing up when the bell rang. “But you love me.” He squeezed your shoulder.

“That I do.”

After that, you couldn’t focus any more in any of the classes. Once again it was proved that you wouldn’t be able to even imagine your life without Baekhyun next to you. Yes, the idea of marriage was scary but you’d marry him. In an instant.

Finally coming up with a way to make something out for yourself and of that damn deal your parents made, you slipped out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang announcing the end of your last class of that day. Quickly pulling out your phone, you hid in the toilets and dialed your mother's phone who lazily picked up after countless attempts.

“What.”

So you were still in a war zone. “If I am to get married,” you started without further ado, “he can not touch me. And I won’t be breaking up with Baekhyun.”

It was silent for a moment before your mother let out a laugh. “Oh, honey. We do want you to finish university first before anything else will happen.”

She didn’t add anything more which confused you. “Okay, either way, I won’t be breaking up with Baekhyun.”

“Do whatever you deem correct. Though I bet he won’t like you getting married to someone else? Didn’t you always say how loyal he was?”

You grit your teeth. “Why do you suddenly care about his loyalty?” you hissed, pacing in the small toilet space. “That isn’t your business. You will always get what you want and I already said I will comply but on my terms.”

“Your terms are cheating on your husband? Or on your boyfriend? I really don’t know where this attitude comes from in you. Neither me nor your father are like that-“

Before she could finish, you burst out laughing. “What? You aren’t like that? Don’t be delusional, mother. You’re trying to marry me off for your own profit!” you exclaimed, raising your voice. “The only thing I am asking - no, I am going to do it whether you like it or not. I will be with Baekhyun. I’ll be with him until he breaks up with me.” Because there was no way you would do it.

Your mother was silent for a moment and then she sighed. “Do as you want. As long as you sign the papers…” she trailed off. “I have a meeting now. Let’s discuss once we are home.” And she ended the call.

You realized you were trembling only when you finally let your hand dangle next to your body, already tired from the fights. 

At least she didn’t say anything against the idea.

You took it as a positive sign.

You didn’t go home that night. Baekhyun suggested to sleep over at his house and you gladly agreed. It wouldn't be the first and certainly not the last time. His parents knew you well and you always felt their warm welcome whenever Baekhyun brought you home with him. His mother was a great cook and whenever you saw her, you were reminded of Baekhyun's kind smile.

“Are you staying for the night?” asked his mother with a laugh when you greeted her with a polite bow.

You smiled shyly, nodding and looking up at Baekhyun who was gazing down at you encouragingly. “Yes, if that is okay, auntie.”

“Of course! It's Friday night anyway. My son just keeps studying and not living his young life properly so please, be our guest.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and she said she would prepare a late dinner for you while you and Baehyun went to his room to change into something more comfortable.

“Could you borrow me some of your clothes?” you asked once in his room as you were working on unbuttoning your uniform's shirt and watched shirtless Baekhyun roam in his drawer for your favourite shirt of his.

“Here you go,” he said, coming up to you with the shirt and joggers, but instead of handing them to you, he just put them on the bed and mumbled a soft: “Let me.”

His fingers took over the unbuttoning process, and you closed your eyes at the feathery touch of his hands as he uncovered more skin. When he was reaching your stomach, he paused and you cracked your eyes open, finding him gazing at you intently before his eyes fell to the middle of your breasts that were exposed. He unbuttoned the last two buttons swiftly and then pushed his hands inside the shirt, dragging his fingertips over your hips and waist, tapping each bone of your ribcage until he slid his hands up to your shoulders, sliding the material off. “You want to keep your bra?” he asked, almost as if he wasn't breathing loudly, mimicking your rapidly rising and falling chest.

Shaking your head gently, you mumbled a soft no before he nodded in acknowledgement and with one hand unclasped the bra. He stepped even closer, your nose almost touching his broad and very naked chest. You felt his breath on your cheek as he whispered, pulling on the straps of your bra: “May I?”

Swallowing harshly, you nodded and looked up at him to find his fiery gaze intently set on you. When he pushed the straps off your shoulders and your bra fell to the floor, you shivered at the cool air hitting the hot skin as Baekhyun's fingers were back again, dragging them from your back through your underarms until he reached the sides of your breasts. His breathing was irregular, hot puffs hitting your face while you whimpered softly, egging him on to finally grab you.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered shakily and you let out a loud sigh when he finally took a hold of your mounds, squeezing them gently in his palms.

You brought your arms around his neck, stretching the skin on your chest and you kissed him hungrily, the heat in your core growing almost painful for not being satisfied as you so badly wished you would be.

Baekhyun pushed his tongue into your mouth, going for a dirty kiss right away as he gave a final, stronger squeeze to your breasts before letting them go, bringing his hands down to your backside, bunching up your skirt in lust. He let out a satisfied moan when he grabbed the meat, his finger momentarily sliding inside and between your thighs. You were fast to break the kiss, needing air and also needing to whine because you needed him so badly.

His naked torso pressed now to yours, his hands cheekily teasing you and grabbing you, he was all about games.

“Baekhyun, the food is ready! Come quickly before it gets cold!” shouted his mother down the hallway, thankfully not coming to Baekhyun's room. You froze in his arms nonetheless to which he chuckled.

“Relax,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck. “She knows not to disturb when my door is closed and you are with me.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you let go of him just when he did.

“Once we are back,” he said, helping you put on his big t-shirt. “I will take care of that wetness down there. Seems pretty severe.”

You quirked an eyebrow, looking at the tent that was asking for attention over his joggers. “You sound so unaffected.”

He looked down just where your eyes were set and chuckled as if it was nothing. “Oh, sweetie, it's always like this when I'm with you. I just can't help it,” he said and leaned in, biting your earlobe. “You bring out the man in me.”

Everything was a long lost dream and you should have known it. Things you imagined and desired were not what the reality had in store for you, and it just made it more difficult for you to face Baekhyun. Even when you went on the last high school trip where you had the biggest fun, made the most exciting memories, sneaking behind the group to steal a small kiss, even all of that was not able to lighten up your damp mood. Somehow, it was possible for you to fake it, but you would have been dumb if you ever thought Baekhyun believed your words or smiles. He could sense trouble from miles and given the nature of your family, he was always well-aware of how many troubles could grow overnight in your household. He just wouldn't know the severity of the problem. And you weren't planning to tell him, just like you promised yourself and your mother, not until Baekhyun would break up with you.

And right now, it was your graduation day.

The D-day had come when you would have to say goodbye to all your friends, even the fake ones, and you would be a little closer to losing Baekhyun. Except you wouldn't know it would happen that fast.

“Congratulations!” squealed Baekhyun's mother who was fast to hug Baekhyun and you both at the same time, squeezing you to her chest. Your face was pushed into the colourful bouquet of flowers that smelled wonderfully - but from a distance. You tried to  squeeze your eyes shut but you just looked down, catching Baekhyun's worn-out converse sneakers.

Baekhyun snorted a laugh when he saw your face in the freezias, and gently pushed you away from his mother to protect you. As you straightened up, you managed to scrunch your face just in time to sneeze.

“Oh dear, I'm so sorry,” giggled Baekhyun's mother and even his father chuckled from behind her which made your heart warm up.

“It's alright, auntie,” you waved your hand, feeling your eyes watering up but you laughed nonetheless because - how could you ever be mad at such a sweet woman who was the only person on Earth to have the right to call Baekhyun hers? As much as you wished, you were nowhere near close to have the right for him to be yours. And maybe you would never be. “Looking at you, I wonder how was my son able to sweep you off of your feet! You're so beautiful!”

You smiled shyly and felt Baekhyun's soft gaze on you, ready to reach out for your hand before his mother pushed the bouquet into his arms. “This is for you, son, and this is for you, my dear,” she said, giving you one as well.

Just when you were about to thank her politely and bow, your mother's cold voice interrupted the merry atmosphere, your happy smile dying down as you turned to face her, your father and a- stranger? A man, to be exact.

“Here you are,” she said, sending a cold smile towards Baekhyun's parents, ignoring your boyfriend altogether. She stepped closer so she wouldn't be overheard, and muttered: “I guess your wishes will come true soon.” She leaned back and you followed her with your eyes as she stepped aside. “Mr Kwon, please meet my daughter,” she introduced you before continuing, “and this is Mr Kwon Minheob, your fiancée. Greet him properly!” she ordered but you didn't even process what she said.

Standing frozen, your arms were about to let go of the bouquet you just received were it not for Baekhyun who was fast enough to get the flowers out of your grasp. “Oh, that's great news! I'll take these for you!” he exclaimed with a smile and you looked at him with pure horror in your eyes. “Congrats by the way! I will miss you as my classmate!” he added and quickly bowed to your parents. “I'll see you around someday!” And with that, he turned and left.

In that instance, many things were swirling around in your brain - complete, utter shock, overwhelm, fear, heartbreak. What did Baekhyun just do? Why did he say that? And where was he going-

“Nice to meet you,” said the older male with a deep voice. You turned your stare back at him, hearing your heart beating in your ears. “What a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard a lot about you and your studies. It is so nice of you to lower yourself and your status and attend a regular high school with ordinary people. I believe we will have a lot in common.” He finally uncrossed his hands from behind his back and you found a pastel pink bag dangling off of his somewhat thick fingers. “And this is my congratulatory present for you. Congratulations on graduating high school.”

Once again, you just stared at the bag, unable to make your own hand move and accept the gift with a polite bow like you were expected to. The only thing ringing in your mind was Baekhyun and him only. He found out much sooner than he was supposed to and you hated yourself because he was most probably hating you right now. What was worse - his parents were there, too. They all saw it when it all seemed like you were just about to stay with their son forever. Yet, your family, as always, ruined it all and you weren't sure if you would recover.

Looking up to the tall, grown man, it didn't take you a lot to know he was far from anyone you could have feelings for, ever. The words he just spoke, the malice he said them with, was everything you were standing for. Obviously, he was no one you could have things in common with.

Your father stepped next to you and, painfully, pinched your side, making you gasp and automatically reach out for the gift with a low bow. His fingers were squeezing your skin through your dress and it rushed tears in your eyes, but you blinked them away while accepting the gift and staring at the polished shoes of Kwon Minheob.

“Nice to meet you,” you mumbled, straightening up. The gift bag felt heavy in your hand but you tried not to pay too much attention to it. Eventually, your father also removed his hand from your back and he gave you a pressed smile, though you didn't look at him. “Congratulations, our daughter. Now we can go all to our house and have a good di-”

“I'm sorry, but I still have, eh, friends to greet and meet,” you said, “we also all agreed to have our last meal together as a class,” you added, looking up to meet your father's eyes. You weren't lying; the entire class wanted to meet and have chicken and beer. Preferably spend the time loudly somewhere in a good restaurant.

He shot you a dissatisfied scowl, but you held his gaze. “Until when? You won't be meeting them anyway, why waste time?”

“Exactly,” pressed your mother and smiled brightly at Mr Kwon, who kept observing you with quite an unreadable expression. “And we have Mr Kwon to entertain.”

Quite literally you thought you would start wailing right then and there; everyone was going against you, nobody seeming to listen to your words. Just when you felt tears prickle your eyes, Mr Kwon spoke up and surprised all of you.

“That is not necessary,” he declared, giving a curt smile towards your parents, “she is still young and should enjoy her classmates one last time. I suppose it will be difficult to do it once they all go their own way,” he said in a diplomatic voice, looking at you the entire time. It took a lot in you not to flinch and shudder under his gaze. “So go and enjoy, miss, and I will meet you soon to have a more private conversation with you.” You nodded quickly, though blood was already draining from your face at the idea of what he suggested. Mr Kwon turned to your parents. “I will leave you to entertain your daughter and I will reach out soon.”

Before anyone else could say another word, he gave a short bow and disappeared in the mass of people.

“You do realize-” your mother started, but you were fast to push the bag into her chest, not caring whether she caught it or not, and dashing for the direction that Baekhyun disappeared into.

Of course you were aware how much you would get scolded once you actually faced your parents, but right now you couldn't care less. It was better to get scolded, but losing Baekhyun or even making him hurt just the tiniest of bits made you resent yourself.

And so you pushed past crowds, stopping to say hi, keeping an eye out for any coconut head out there with a family that shone brighter than yours would ever shine. Just when you were about to lose it and start straight up crying in the middle of the crowd, you felt a hand intertwining with yours and you just knew. He didn't turn you around, but you felt his body behind yours and it was you who turned, facing him with a scared expression. 

“Baekhyun,” you whimpered. Seeing his kind smile made you want to slap him because why was he like that after what he heard?

“Hm? Want to tell me about it now?” he asked gently and combed your hair out of your face, his smile growing by an inch. “Pretty.”

You took a deep breath, shakiness overtaking your legs from unwanted pressure. “It isn't what you think it is.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don't want to marry him,” you said and this time, your tears rapidly grew in your eyes and were rolling down your cheeks. “I-I-I never… I mean, not yet. I did-didn't know he would come, I never saw him before and-”

“Shhh, calm down,” he hushed, bringing your face to his chest, hugging you to himself. “Let's talk about it another time.”

“No,” you said, hiccuping, “I am not losing you, Baekhyun.”

“You aren't.” “I'm not losing you,” you repeated, closing your eyes and pressing your face more into him, taking a deep breath of his scent, feeling up his warmth and presence. “I'm not losing you.”

He called your name gently. “It's fine. Don't cry, hm? You know I can't stand seeing you cry. I am not mad and I'm not going anywhere,” he whispered urgently into your ear.

“I just hate my family so much,” you mumbled into his chest. Baekhyun's shirt must have been stained by make-up by then, but neither of you cared. “And I don't want their terrible attitude to damage you.”

“It won't damage me. You are important to me, you. Look at me, hm? Look at me, darling.”

You sniffed and stepped away a little, tilting your head so you could see his kind eyes. He cooed, reaching up to run his thumbs under your eyes. “My little raccoon. Let's enjoy today, alright? Just us. And our classmates,” he added with a little laugh.

You smiled weakly, nodding. Anything Baekhyun wanted, he would get from you.

Your entire class hoarded into a chicken restaurant in Hongdae, the loud cheers and chatterings making many people turn in interest to look at you. You sat down around your girlfriends while you let, though reluctantly, Baekhyun join his pals. Even though you would exchange reassuring looks here and there, you still felt incredibly anxious about the incident earlier. In fact, you were so swallowed up by the idea of losing Baekhyun that you didn't  even think about the actual fiancée, Mr Kwon.

But instead of focusing on that, you decided to enjoy tonight, for you knew events like these won't be coming up for you anytime soon. If anything, your freedom was close to gone.

“I am going to start my own clothing brand,” started one of your classmates that was sitting next to you, munching on her piece of chicken meat. She went on spilling many details that didn't add up in your brain, though you listened carefully to every word she said.

“You don't have your degree yet,” you replied eventually and took a gulp of your coke.

“Funny, coming from someone like you,” she snickered, “you can decide you want to own an island and you will.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes but your classmate just shrugged.

“I can assure you she won't,” came in Baekhyun's voice. “I know it pretty well, since I'm her boyfriend.”

The girls exchanged looks. They all had a secret crush on him, so his words made them a little embarrassed. “Would you even marry her?” they teased.

“I would. In a heartbeat,” was his answer and you looked at him with huge eyes, your mouth that was slightly oily from the chicken hanging open, your heart frantically beating in your chest.

The entire table hollored and whistled, and you caught your boyfriend smiling proudly at you, eventually sending a confident wink. He tapped his mouth with his index finger and then pointed at you. You felt your lips stretch instantly, because you knew he meant “close your mouth”.

“Whew, you really are lucky,” muttered the girl next to you, changing the topic completely.

His hand was intertwined with yours once again as you were slowly walking along the Han river. Ttukseom Han river park was, as always, busy with young people. It gave a great view on Gangnam and Cheongdam that were lying on the opposite side, the city lights of the tall buildings reminding you how life revolved around money and basically anything that smelled even the slightest of capitalism. You found yourself despising all of it.

“Cat stole your tongue?” muttered Baekhyun playfully into the chilly air as he swayed your connected hands.

“Just… thinking,” you replied and made sure your sides were brushing.

He didn't reply, instead letting silence overtake again, but you knew he was curious. He wanted to, and deserved, to know.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, looking at the dark water.

“Did I mean what?”

“That you would marry me in a heartbeat,” you said softly, scared to actually pronounce those words. They sounded so unnatural, for some reason, despite them mirroring everything you ever wanted in life. “What you said during dinner.”

“Yes, I meant it and you know it, too, sweetheart,” he said, shaking your hand.

You smiled to yourself. If you wouldn't spill the beans now, you would probably never find the guts to talk about the main issue that was simmering like the water in a pressure cooker. “My parents want me to marry that man for business. Something along merging their companies or whatever,” you started. “I found out a while ago but I was fighting them. And then you made me promise to obey,” you sighed, feeling the well-known dread eating up your insides, “and I had to agree. But I don't want to.”

“So that's why you weren't yourself,” he muttered more to himself than to you, and he stopped walking so he could look at you properly. When you wouldn't meet his eye, too ashamed, he put his index finger under your chin and made you tilt your head up. “Why didn't you just tell me from the beginning?”

“Baekhyun,” you whispered in disbelief, “how could I? It isn't some news about apples growing backwards.”

He chuckled. “Well, you have to admit, that would make the headlines.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

He let out another chuckle through his nose and slid his hand up so he could cup your cheek lovingly while thinking over his next words. “When are you supposed to marry him?”

You swallowed. “Maybe after uni? I … I never wanted to talk to them, so I don't know exactly… I insisted after university graduation.”

He hummed, running his thumb over your lower lip, his gaze focused on the way he parted your lips. “So, we have four more years?”

You pursed your lips, not liking the idea of having limited time with Baekhyun. “Of course not. I will always be with you.”

He sighed, and eventually dropped his hand on your shoulder; you tried not to feel disappointed. “I think this is more complicated than you think, love.”

“How is it complicated, Baekhyun?” you asked stubbornly. “I love you. I saw that man today for the first time in my life. How can I marry someone I don't know and barely ever saw? He is almost twice my age, Baekhyun. You know this is not okay and you also know it doesn't make any sense.”

“And you know business is anything but emotions,” was his fast reply.

“I don't care about their business.”

“And they don't care that you don't care.”

“Bu-but I just don't care! I will be with you behind his back and-”

“And how would that make me feel?” he fired back, now both of you slowly getting heated up from the small exchange of opinions. Baekhyun just asked something you never wanted him to utter. If you were to talk about him, of course, he was the victim. He'd become a secret lover; the forbidden fruit.

When you didn't reply, he nodded, his hand falling off your shoulder. “I understand.”

“Baekhyun, let's talk about this step by step,” you tried, reaching for his hand which he, thankfully, didn't retreat. “We still have a long time until any of those things could even happen. Maybe it won't happen - and I will try my best not to let it happen. But let it not affect our present. Please,” you added with urgency, looking into his warm eyes.

When Baekhyun was troubled or sad, his eyes seemed to become even more down-ward than they already were. This time, it was no exception and you wanted to reach out and make the wrinkles go away but you didn't. “Let me just think this matter through, alright?” he murmured eventually.

You pressed your lips together and nodded while you stepped close to him, snaking your arms around his waist. He gladly took you in, letting out a deep sigh as he hugged you to him and kissed the top of your head. “It will be okay.”

“May I sleep at yours tonight?” you mumbled into his shoulder after a moment of silence. “I just cannot imagine going back to that hell.”

He rubbed your back gently. “Of course. My mum is already expecting us. We shouldn't disappoint her.”

You leaned back a bit and stood on your toes to press your lips to his. “You're the best.”

And so, after walking a little bit longer and enjoying the faraway noise of the busy roads and nightlife Seoul, you slowly made your way back to the metro station, heading for Baekhyun's house, and your safety.

The both of you were lying on his bed, his parents long asleep, the quietness of the apartment giving you a sense of safeness. Baekhyun had a book open on his lap while you were doodling something you weren’t sure what was yet. Manual work seemed to preoccupy your mind enough and sadly, even with Baekhyun next to you, you couldn’t find your peace of mind. 

“Aren’t you tired yet?” whispered Baekhyun and looked at you, and on the paper to see what you were so focused on. “It’s already 1am. Your parents will want you home early-“

Your sigh interrupted him and you put down the pencil rather harshly as you sat up properly to face him. “Since when do you care about them? You know I will go home whenever I want to. I don’t care, so you shouldn’t either.”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble, okay?” he said back, his voice quiet but low. “There has been enough drama.”

“What worse can happen? They want me to let go of you. That is the worst punishment for me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze softened and he also sat up properly to face you. “I know. I can’t lose you either. And I wasn’t intending on that. I meant that they might lock you up and then I won’t be able to see you so soon, hm?” he murmured gently, his lips puckering with each word as he reached out with his hand to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch right away. “I want to enjoy what we have now.”

You smiled gently when you recognized your previously uttered words and grabbed his hand that was cradling your cheek. “You know I would sneak out just to meet you if I were to be locked up.”

He rewarded you with a lopsided, handsome smile. “You shouldn’t, you little devil.”

You sighed and shimmied yourself closer until your knees were touching his. “Kiss me,” you whispered breathily, already eyeing his lips.

He observed you a little longer before his eyes dropped on yours. Softly smiling, he leaned in, now both of his hands on your neck to angle your face. The softest of touches was what you felt first before he pressed his lips harsher, moving his mouth against yours. Your hands snaked around his neck to urge him on while he opened your mouth and invited himself in. Without meaning to, you let out a satisfied hum that seemed to ignite Baekhyun because he pressed harder, slowly making you fall back on your back, head on the pillows.

He grunted as you spread your legs so he could settle himself there as your kiss grew dirtier, all tongues and teeth, battling for dominance. Your fingers were messing up his hair while his hands were touching you over the fabric of his pyjamas.

It was your whines and a couple of pulls on the hem of his shirt that made Baekhyun lean back so that you could undress in haste, both of you eager and very much horny. Finally feeling the hot skin of his chest press up against yours he was too eager and he already lined himself up at your center, needing the release without any foreplay.

“Just keep quiet, alright?” he reminded softly into your ear under which he placed the softest kiss before he started pushing in, your mouth falling open, but your juices doing a good enough job for his easy access.

You gasped rather loudly and he silenced you with a messy kiss, interrupting it with harsh pants on your mouth as his eyes were closed in focus, his forehead pressed against yours. You panted and tilted your head to chase his parted lips while he pushed himself in all the way, reaching the stillness that you very much needed.

Unable to take the pain, your eyes were squeezed shut, scratching Baekhyun’s back while the other hand fisted his blanket. 

“Just a little longer,” Baekhyun whispered urgently, lips against your forehead, repeatedly puckering them in tiny butterfly  kisses. “The pain will be all gone, I promise. I’ll make you feel like no one on this planet.” He moved the slightest bit, the friction making him hide his face in your neck and mouth at the skin.

Your heaving chest was pressing up against his and with his next movement, you felt the tingles of pleasure that he promised you just heartbeats ago. Giving Baekhyun the sign to move, he started rocking, already setting up a faster pace for he couldn’t wait any longer. Your influence on him was too strong, his emotions for you too overwhelming. In his eyes, you were so sexy, beautiful, sensitive, and absolutely alluring. It would be brutal if he had to hold back while having you underneath him.

Who did he try to lie to? He went absolutely crazy at the idea of him having to leave you for another man; some old dude who didn’t even know you. It might have been the reason why he grew relentless, pushing you into his mattress and snapping his hips, your face of pure ecstasy only fueling his passionate drive. He hated the entire situation. He didn’t want to share you. He never wanted to have a secret relationship with you. If he imagined a future, besides him becoming a doctor, it was your presence next to his the entire time.

Baekhyun was never one to be aggressive and stubbornly go against every rule, unlike you. In your relationship, he was the cold-headed one, the peace-maker, always fighting for what the brain said instead of the heart.

But right now, his heart was in despair, already feeling the beginning of a heart break. He thrusted into you with such passion you really couldn't contain your moans and he wasn’t sure he wanted you to keep quiet anymore. Let everyone know that you belonged to him.

He bit your skin just under your collarbones, tasting the sweat, and you gasped, fisting his hair which prompted him to grunt and reach your g-spot.

“Cum for me,” he whispered harshly, biting you again and then moving his face to push his tongue into your open mouth. “Cum for me and say my name.”

He didn’t have to tell you as you were already panting his name like a mantra that would bring you to heaven. Your walls were pleasurably stretched out, the throaty sounds he made bringing you over the edge. He followed soon after your breathy moans and your arching back that caused your breasts to press to his sweaty chest made him lose it.

His arms snaked in the space between your back and the mattress and he squeezed your body to him, hiding his face in your breasts that he mouthed and licked at sensually while feeling himself release.

With one last bite to your sensitive nipple, he moved to kiss you, your tired smile welcoming him. “I love you.”

You combed his hair away from his damp forehead. “I love you more.” But please don't leave me.

--

CuriousCat Ask box is also open! Or comments!💕

[dailycharacteroption]

My Characters 6: Kyki Starchaser

We’re back with another special on my various characters that I have played or desire to play!

 Growing up in a desert land known for it’s ties to elementals and genies, Kyki had a typical childhood for a gnome growing up in a walled city. In particular, she was always fascinated by the wealth of wonders to be found at the bazaar, such a spices, beautiful works of art, and of course, magic. Her favorite, however, were items forged or empowered by the elements. Jewelry made from sand glass, perfectly polished river stones, and the like. She seemed to be able to read impressions from these objects as well, getting flashes of insight as to their history.

When she was old enough to travel, she hired herself out as an assistant to a merchant, hoping to see even more wonders, and it was on her travels that she realized her insight was more than just intuition, but the spark of occult understanding.

Fascinated, she did research into the nature of her gift, and in doing so, learned how to call forth her jin companions, Zepra, Kragg, and Smoldr, the three of which being usually small, but with an infusion of her power, can grow to great size and unnerving handsomeness.

With her own power established, Kyki quit her job in favor of the life of an adventurer, eagerly seeking new wonders with her elemental allies in tow.

 Ever-curious and ever-fearless, Kyki has been described as naïve and reckless before, but to her it’s simply being eager to explore and accept what life has to offer as one would accept a gift. While she finds the idea of violence abhorrent, she is also aware of the harshness of life. She won’t start hostilities, but she will end them. She’d much rather make a new friend and share her interests with them. Few things excite her more than a brilliant mind willing to indulge her in debate and observation.

 As a gnome, Kyki is a short, spritely thing with brown skin and bright blue hair that she wears in a messy ponytail. Her elemental allies joke that such is the missing “water” to their elemental trio.

Kyki favors the loose desert attire from her homeland, but always wears brightly-colored outfits regardless of weather, and she is never seen without her braided skirt of trinkets, each composed of a material weathered and changed by the elements, worn stones, fire-blackened wood, and so on.

 For this build, Kyki is a gnome with the explorer alternate racial trait, and her class will be the sha’ir archetype for occultist, preferably taking an air jin as her first choice (Zepra) with the conjuration school, followed by Smoldr the fire jin with evocation and gem-studded Kragg the earth jin with the enchantment school. She would be built for damage-dealing, utility, and social encounters in terms of her skills, spells, and focus powers. As far as magic items go she would favor those made from natural materials or with a clear elemental connection.

 That does it for today, but I hope you enjoyed it!

[bbangsoonie]

find me in your memory

member: sangyeon genre: angst word count: 10,200 synopsis: when you return to korea in hopes of recovering your lost memories, one of your new housemates seems oddly familiar. warning(s): inaccurate depiction of amnesia

Prologue:

You had locked yourself in a bathroom stall to run away from everyone’s obvious trying-not-to-stare glances. Your hand clenched around your phone as you stared at the top trending news article. Your father had officially announced his plans to advance his political career and alongside his name were the names of the rest of your family. Your mother, a renown actress. Your brother, a retired swimmer and a rising musician. And you, a rookie model who already walked in various fashion shows.

You were annoyed that your father chose today of all days to release the news. Today was White Day, meaning that boys were throwing you sweets left and right. You hated the extra attention and hated that you had to maintain elegance through it all. It was already bad enough that tonight was some fancy party your father arranged for the purpose of publicity and networking. You would be hiding under a mask all day and night now.

You sighed at the sound of the bell ringing to notify the students that lunch time was over. You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and braced yourself before you returned to your classroom.

People had already whispered about you in the hallways but your classroom erupted into full blown gossip. You heard guys discussing the news and girls expressing their jealousy.

“I guess the princess might actually become a princess now.” one girl said rather loudly. “Look at her. Pretending not to hear all of us. She must think we’re too lowly to even converse with.”

Her friend’s eyes widened at her bold outburst and tried to shush her.

“What? I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.” the girl freed herself from her friend’s grasp and blatantly stood in front of your desk. “Tell me, Y/n, am I wrong?”

You looked up to meet her eyes with a neutral expression. You wanted nothing more than to grab the opportunity to pick a fight with her. But you knew you would face repercussions with your parents so all you could do was force a small smile.

Before the girl could say something more, your homeroom teacher entered the room. Everyone quickly dispersed and found their seats.

“Y/n? Your father’s secretary is here to pick you up. You’ll be leaving school early today.” he said.

The statement prompted more hushed whispers as your classmates speculated the reason why you were being pulled out of class. Without a word, you grabbed your backpack and left. The secretary led you out of the building and into a black car.

You pulled out your phone and earbuds to accompany you for the ride. Closing your eyes, you rested your head on the window and increased the volume of your music. Your brother had sent you the guide for the song he was working on and asked for your opinion. You had grumpily agreed, slightly irked that he only contacted you for things like this.

You hated Younghoon for leaving you alone in this family. He was your father’s pride and joy when he was a national athlete. Granted, he was miserable his whole life pursuing swimming when all he wanted to do was sing. But still, you never expected him to suddenly retire and switch careers without confronting your parents. He simply packed up and left. Without a warning or explanation, he just moved out. By himself. Without you.

Now, all the burden of maintaining the family’s image was on you. You had been pushed into the modeling industry so your father could have a pretty face to marry off later on. However, with Younghoon leaving the sports scene, your father was furious that your entire family were all entertainers without higher aspirations. It was too late for you to learn a sport so now you were to get accepted into Seoul University’s business school. Your father insisted on having at least one socially respectable child.

Your brother spent the last couple of years cutting contact with the family. He refused to attend events or partake in promotional photoshoots. The only time you could ever see him was when he came to take the annual family portrait. That was the only duty he would now fulfill as the eldest son of the Kim family.

You hated him but you also couldn’t despise him. If your affection for him were to turn sour, you’d truly be alone in this world. Yet you were still upset every time your calls went to his voicemail and he replied with a text hours later to apologize. You knew he was busy making up for lost time but it still hurt that he was able to enjoy his freedom while you remained suffocated.

“Miss, we’ve arrived.” the secretary spoke.

You opened your eyes and saw that the car pulled up in front of a beauty salon. You sighed, realizing you would have to get your hair and makeup done. So you went, sitting in front of a mirror for hours as people hovered around you to make you presentable for the reporters that would welcome you with endless camera flashes. By the time they finished, you were given a white silky dress to wear. It was as if your parents wanted to send you off to get married right away.

Keeping your complaints to yourself, you got dressed and were rushed to the party. Your parents were already inside, meaning you had to face the cameras alone. Reporters shouted questions at you; the topics ranged from your outfit to your father’s political plans to your brother’s absence. Ignoring them all, you put on your capitalistic smile and posed. You then bid them goodbye and entered the venue.

It was packed with politicians and businessmen. You walked around, looking for the protagonist of this event. Your father had organized tonight under the guise of celebrating your mother’s upcoming film but the true celebration was the release of today’s news. He was here to garner support for his political campaign and he sure had a flamboyant way of doing it.

“My daughter!” you heard your mother’s voice call out.

You turned around and saw your mother beckoning you over. You put on another smile as you approached your parents. Your father pulled you in for a light hug and introduced you to the man in front of him.

“Y/n, this is Assemblyman Lee. We’ve grown quite close this past year. Assemblyman Lee, this is the daughter I’ve been bragging to you about. She’s even prettier in person, right?” he let out a hearty laugh.

You respectfully bowed and personally introduced yourself to the assemblyman.

“Yes, she is very beautiful indeed.” Assemblyman Lee agreed, joining his laughter. He then presented the tall male next to him. “This is my son, Juyeon. I believe he is the same age as you, Y/n.”

“He plays basketball and even modeled for Seoul Fashion Week.” your father mentioned. “Perhaps you’ve seen or heard of him before?”

“I think we may have passed by each other once or twice that day.” you smiled. To be honest, it was your first time meeting him.

“Assemblyman Lee and I get along like family and we were talking about becoming an actual family once you graduate college.” your father beamed.

Those words made your stomach drop. You knew you’d never get to choose your own partner but now that it was actually happening, you froze. Reality suddenly hit you like a truck. You were never going to have control over anything in your life. You were nothing but a pawn in your father’s journey to the Blue House.

You looked over at Juyeon who looked just as uncomfortable as you. This was the man who you were probably going to spend the rest of your life with and you had no idea what he was like. For all you knew, he could end up hating your guts. You felt panic taking over and excused yourself for an urgent visit to the bathroom.

Your vision was blurred as you quickly exited the ballroom and desperately searched for a private room. All you could think about was your brother.

Younghoon.

Younghoon.

Younghoon.

You needed him. His name was the only thing your brain could think of. You needed him to tell you that everything would be okay. That he would come save you. You knew it would be a lie but you needed to hear it anyway.

Once you found an unlocked storage room, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor. With trembling hands, you dialed your brother’s number and waited for him to pick up. You called him five times but only heard the line ring. Fighting back tears, you cursed him in your head.

You spent the next half hour trying to calm yourself down. Squatting down, you rocked back and forth with your hands covering your ears to block out the noise outside. Your hyperventilation was slowing and you weren’t struck by the fear of dying anymore. By the time you settled down, you felt numb.

With a solemn expression, you stepped out of the storage room. Avoiding the crowd, you wandered around until you found a back exit. Before you opened the door, however, you realized how much you’d stand out in your current attire. You called for the secretary and asked for one of your spare school uniforms. You changed into the blouse and skirt but left out the tie and jacket. Not having sneakers to change into, you kept your heels on.

You insisted that he return to the party and not follow you. You promised you’d be home by evening and shooed him away.

Now that you were finally free, you didn’t know where to go. School was already dismissed but the sun had yet to set. Without any plans, you just started walking. As you kept walking, you found yourself in front of your school.

You laughed in disbelief. Apparently this was the only place other than home that you knew. Finding yourself pathetic, you continued to walk up the path to the building.

The soccer team was still on the field practicing. You sat on a bench, watching them run and kick the ball around. You didn’t know a thing about the sport but found it oddly soothing to mindlessly stare.

After a while, you got tired of it and got up. You let your feet decide where to go next and ended up on the rooftop. The sky was now a golden color. You didn’t remember when you last saw such a view.

At that moment, your phone rang. It was Younghoon finally returning your missed calls. You stared at the screen, debating whether to pick up or not. By his second call, you decided to answer.

“Y/n! Is something wrong? Are you okay?” he asked as soon as you clicked “accept”.

You honestly didn’t know how to reply to his question. Looking back, you wondered if you had ever been “okay” in your life. Was this living or was this just enduring?

“I’m so sorry I missed your calls. I was at the recording studio.” he apologized. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” you lied. “I just missed you. A lot.”

You heard him let out a sigh of relief. Then his guilty voice.

“I miss you too.” he paused. “Listen, I’m extremely sorry for leaving you to deal with Father. I just… I couldn’t handle it anymore. I felt like I was gonna go insane. I could put up with everything but his demand to quit music. That was the last straw. It was the only bit of freedom I ever enjoyed and I couldn’t have that taken away from me as well.”

“But what about my freedom?” you wanted to ask.

“I know I’m a terrible brother. And an even worse son.” he admitted.

Not wanting him to feel sorry, you muttered a soft “whatever”.

“Once I finish recording this song, I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to sneak you out for a sibling date.” he said.

This was the seventh time he made this promise. Either he was always too busy or you could never escape the tight schedule set for you. But like the six other times before, you pretended to believe it.

The call ended soon after and you were left alone in silence. The tranquility on the roof contrasted the storm inside your head. You had spent your entire life striving to achieve your parents’ impossible standards. You were never enough. Never smart enough. Never pretty enough. Never social enough.

Everyone at school saw you as little miss perfect. It brought you both unwanted attention and hatred. People saw you as unapproachable and snobby. Some even expressed their disgust at how fake you seemed. At the same time, there were those who wanted to use you and your connections. There was always someone who wanted something from you.

You felt trapped.

The edge of the roof seemed to call and entice you. As if in a trance, you walked over to the wall and climbed on top of it. You sat on the ledge and took in a deep breath. You stared at the sight in front of you. Most of the soccer team had left school grounds by now. You only heard scattered voices here and there. It was probably the remaining students hollering at each other across the field.

The rest of the world seemed so peaceful. It felt like you were the only one unable to escape chaos. You swung your legs, enjoying the evening breeze. You didn’t want to ever leave this spot.

Your phone vibrated, notifying you of a new message.

“You’ll be meeting Juyeon this weekend. I expect it to go better than tonight.” it read.

Your grip on the device tightened. Without giving you a break, another message from your father arrived.

“Also, your exam scores came out. Your ranking dropped to fourth place. We’ll talk at home.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to pull your hair out and cry. Instead, you stood up and glared at the phone in your hand. Your hand was now trembling because of how tightly you were holding it.

By now, emotions were beyond you. Feeling pity for yourself was nothing but a waste of time. It didn’t fix things and it surely didn’t make you feel any better. You were just tired of it all.

Allowing yourself one last angry outburst, you threw your phone down. You didn’t watch it fall from the roof and hit the ground. It instantly broke on contact. Unbeknownst to you, the fall startled a male student passing by.

“What the heck?” Sangyeon exclaimed out loud. He had stuck around after school to watch Sunwoo’s soccer practice. They were about to head out for dinner when he remembered that he left his wallet in his locker. He had sent his friend ahead first as he ran back inside to grab it.

He took a closer look at what almost hit his head and was puzzled to see a phone. Looking for the lunatic who nearly killed him, he lifted his head to see where it came from. After his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he gasped when he saw you standing on the ledge of the rooftop. Getting a bad feeling, he found himself running up the steps. The whole time, “please don’t die” raced through his head.

By the time he made it up to the roof, he was sweaty and out of breath. He wanted to collapse in exhaustion but his eyes widened as you began to inch towards the edge. His body reacted before his mind and he ran to pull you off.

The sudden grip on your wrist spun you around and you fell in what felt like slow motion. You landed on the boy’s chest that was breathing hard. You could hear his heart pump like crazy and his eyes were still closed in fright.

Realizing what just happened, you quickly got off him and dusted yourself off.

“What was that for?” you asked in a hostile tone.

Finally catching his breath, he opened his eyes and jumped up. His eyes almost bulged when he recognized your face.

“Are you crazy?” he yelled, pretending not to know who you were.

“You’re the crazy one butting into other people’s business.” you frowned.

For someone who was about to jump off a building, you looked eerily calm. Sangyeon searched for any signs of distress in your eyes but could only spot annoyance. Still, his gut told him that something was wrong. The empty look on your face scared him.

“Well while we’re in the middle of crazy anyway, why don’t you tell me what pushed you this far?” he bravely inquired. “Bottling everything inside alone will only make things worse. It’s better to just spill everything to a complete stranger you won’t ever see again.”

It was out of character for him to be so nosy but he strangely felt a strong desire to help you. As for you, you normally would have walked away from this situation minutes ago. Yet you still stood in front of this odd boy who demanded to be your impromptu diary.

He intrigued you. He was knocking at the stone wall you put up years ago. He seemed so bright and innocent. It bothered you.

Despite your irritation, something about his eyes made yours water. The way his eyes softened as he looked at you made you feel vulnerable. It seemed as if he could read you like an open book. It brought a wave of emotions you had suppressed for so long.

He stepped closer and offered you a comforting pat on the shoulder. The second his hand made contact, your tears finally escaped and ran down your face. You hadn’t felt the warmth of another human since you last saw your brother. The sudden consolation broke you. Then, like the domino effect, your sobs turned into bawling as your facade crumbled at last.

Sangyeon was shocked to say the least. He never would have thought the Y/n would be crying in his arms. In fact, he never expected to ever cross paths with you. He had only ever heard of you through other students’ gossip. They painted you out to be cold-hearted but the sight in front of him said otherwise.

Hesitantly, he pulled you in for a hug. Recalling how his mom used to comfort him, he tried to soothe you by slowly patting your back. The two of you stayed like that until your cries eventually faded out. Embarrassment belatedly hit you and awkward silence hung in the air. You felt like you owed him an explanation but you couldn’t even pinpoint the exact reason for your actions.

“Thank you.” you muttered softly while sniffling.

Sangyeon smiled in response and rummaged through his pocket to find something. He pulled out a lollipop and handed it to you.

“Even being sad takes energy. You should recharge your blood sugar.” he said as he placed it in your own pocket when you didn’t move to accept it. “Let it all out from time to time. It’s not healthy to always keep negativity inside you.”

You dwelled on his words for a moment. No one had ever told you that before. Everyone was always telling you to tolerate things. You weren’t allowed to disagree with your parents. You had to accept and deal with Younghoon’s departure without expressing how upset you were. You were expected to quietly receive criticism and never retaliate. You figured it was only a matter of time before the pressure eventually set off the bomb inside you. Like today.

Up until now, you thought the only solution for the explosion would be to just end it all. It never occurred to you that you could begin to disobey everything you were taught.

“Thank you.” you repeated. With that, you got up to leave.

“W-Wait!” he called out, causing you to pause. “Where are you going?”

“To eat dinner. You said it takes energy to be sad, right?” you smiled.

Sangyeon didn’t expect to see you again the next day. Cramming last minute for a test, he opted to skip lunch and study at the library instead. After he settled down, he looked up to see across the table. He had to fight the urge to gape.

Feeling someone’s gaze on you, you lifted your head to see the boy in front of you. Recognizing his face, you quickly shut your book closed and got up to leave. He was left flabbergasted at your blatant avoidance of him.

Meanwhile, you were cursing in your head. You chastised yourself for not realizing that he also went to your school. Stupidly, you hadn’t made the connection the day before on the rooftop. Of course he was only there at that hour because he was a student there. Now you were extremely humiliated. And afraid that rumors would spread.

“Hey, wait up!” he called out as he chased after you, earning him a stern glare from the librarian. You didn’t listen and only quickened your pace.

Unfortunately for you, his long legs easily caught up with you. He gently grabbed your wrist to stop you from running away. You scowled when you realized he wouldn’t just ignore you.

“Why are you pretending that you don’t know me?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know who you are,” you deadpanned. Your words rendered him speechless and after a few seconds of silence, you turned around to leave.

“Well, my name is Sangyeon,” he persisted, pointing at his name tag.

He spent the next couple of weeks following you around. At first, you found him annoying. He reminded you of your lowest point in life. But slowly, he wormed his way into your heart and established a place for himself there.

He would greet you each morning with a cheeky smile and a carton of banana milk. To be honest, you didn’t even like banana milk. Yet, you found yourself looking forward to it every day.

Eventually, you two formed an unbreakable bond. He was your only friend and all your free time was spent with him. Every time you felt suffocated by your parents, you reached out to Sangyeon for comfort. You never disclosed anything to him but his presence alone cheered you up. He made you focus on him and forget about everything else. You should’ve known that it was inevitable for you to fall for him.

He was that upperclassman that all the younger female students fawned over. You hated to admit it but you were also among the many who thought he was charming. You felt a pang of jealousy whenever you saw other girls swoon over him as he passed by.

Gradually, your personality began to shift into becoming more lively. You were grateful to have him show you the little things in life. You grew to like yourself and the world a little more.

Present:

You stared at the house in front of you. Twelve years ago, you left this house and town to attend school in Seoul. Seven years ago, you left Korea to move to California. Now, you were back as an adult. It felt strange.

Feeling the winter breeze chill your bones, you shuddered at the cold temperature and hurried inside. You were surprised at how neat the place was; you assumed that someone had been sent to save you from the hassle of cleaning.

Trudging up the stairs, you struggled with your large suitcase. You found your old childhood bedroom and roughly unpacked. Having only less than twelve hours until your new housemates moved in, you felt rushed to get the house ready to meet them. You decided to just wash up and sleep tonight and wake up early in the morning to go grocery shopping.

So you slipped into unconsciousness and spent a relatively quiet night. It wasn’t until morning that you were awoken by a dream. It was the same dream that haunted you for the past seven years. Ever since the accident, the same recurring scene appeared to you in your sleep. To be honest, the exact events were fuzzy but it always left you with the same nostalgic and longing feelings. It bothered you how uneasy it made you feel.

You groaned, noting that your alarm clock hadn’t even rung yet. With a loud sigh, you got up and got dressed. With over a decade between your last visit and the present, you relied on the GPS to navigate your way around the unfamiliar neighborhood.

As you walked around the quiet streets, you took the time to enjoy the scenery. You came back to this town to escape the city life but appreciated that it wasn’t entirely in the middle of nowhere.

Luckily, there was a supermarket nearby. There, you picked out a bunch of ingredients you figured would be used often. You didn’t cook much but wanted to change that.

The trip took longer than expected and you picked up your speed to make it back home before your housemates arrived. You let out a breath of relief when you returned and saw that no one was stuck outside waiting. Humming to a song you didn’t remember the title of, your steps were light as you put away the groceries. When you finished, you took a proper look at the house and were displeased at how bare it was. You made a mental note to buy decorations later to fill your new place with signs of human habitation.

At that moment, the bell rang. Suddenly feeling a bit nervous, you ran to the door. When you opened it, you were greeted by four males who seemed surprised at your appearance.

“Hello! Are you the tenants moving in today?” you asked.

“Yes, I believe we spoke with your… brother? On the phone,” one answered.

“It was probably my father’s secretary that you’ve been in contact with,” you said as you opened the door wider to let them inside. “Please, come in.”

They followed you into the house and dragged their luggage behind them. Once they were all inside, you extended your hand towards them.

“My name is Y/n and I will be the one living here with you all,” you introduced.

“My name is Jacob! I hope we get along well,” the one who first spoke grinned as he shook your hand.

You went down the line, greeting and shaking hands with Changmin and Jaehyun. By the time you got to the last person, however, your hand was left hanging. He stared at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.

“I’m Sangyeon. Lee Sangyeon,” he finally said, taking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sangyeon,” you smiled.

You offered them a tour of the house and showed them their respective rooms. While they unpacked, you offered to order food. It was approaching noon and you still hadn’t eaten breakfast. They declined at first but gave in when you insisted on treating them.

By the time the food was delivered, the five of you gathered in the kitchen. You were pouring water for everyone and Jacob began to take out the bowls.

“Jajangmyun is fitting for today, right?” you commented on the Korean tradition of eating Chinese food on moving days.

After everyone was seated, you gestured for them to dig in and began eating. You let out a sigh of happiness at the taste you had missed in the United States. Korean food there just wasn’t the same as Korean food back at home.

“So, Y/n, how did you end up in this town?” Sangyeon asked. Something about his eyes felt intimate yet you still couldn’t pinpoint the reason why.

“I actually just arrived in Korea last night,” you chuckled. “I’ve been living abroad for a while.”

“Abroad? Really?” Jacob perked. “I used to live overseas as well! Toronto, to be exact.”

“I stayed in California for the most part,” you clarified.

“Oh really? California? Los Angeles?” Changmin asked in English. You giggled at his slight accent, finding it cute.

“Yes, I lived in L.A. for 7 years,” you said in English, laughing when Jaehyun’s eyes widened at your pronunciation.

While the four of you chatted, Sangyeon stayed quiet. He watched as Jaehyun asked you about life in America and Changmin told you about the time he visited New York City. He felt a twinge of jealousy when Jacob conversed with you in English.

“It’s definitely Y/n. It has to be. She looks exactly like her and has the same name. But why is she acting like she doesn’t know me? There’s no way she doesn’t remember me,” Sangyeon thought.

The next morning, you woke up early again due to jet lag. Throwing a robe over your pajamas, you headed downstairs to start making breakfast. You rummaged through the fridge, pondering on what to cook. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice someone else enter the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said, startling you.

With a slight jump, you turned around to see Sangyeon. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and exchanged greetings with him. He spotted the gleam of a necklace hidden under your robe and furrowed his brows.

“That’s the necklace I got her. It’s Y/n for sure,” he thought.

Again, you felt his piercing gaze on you. Still unable to understand why he kept staring at you, you awkwardly turned back around. Sangyeon walked towards the kettle to make himself a cup of tea, still conscious of your presence. With that, he went back up to his room, leaving you alone once again.

Eyeing the bag of sliced bread, you decided to just settle for toast. After the simple meal, you went back to your room to get ready. It was the weekend and you planned on shopping for little trinkets to furnish the house with.

When you came back, you found your new cohabitants watching TV in the living room. You politely refused their help with the bags, setting them down on the table. You pulled out a few small photo frames and held them out to show them.

“Aren’t these adorable?” you beamed. “I was thinking of decorating the place with photos. You know, to add some warmth and humanity. Feel free to take a couple and add your own pictures.”

You placed a handful of the frames in front of them, encouraging them to take some. After excusing yourself for a second, you quickly ran up to your room to grab the printed photos on your desk. When you rejoined the group in the living room, you began to insert them into the picture frames.

“Is this from your high school entrance day?” Jaehyun asked, holding a photograph up.

“Yup,” you nodded. “To be honest, though, I don’t really remember much from high school.”

Changmin, finding a photo of you in front of the Hollywood sign, asked if it was taken during your college years.

“Ah, yes that’s when I first began my life in America. I was both anxious and eager to leave Korea behind,” you said, unaware of Sangyeon's wince at your words.

“Oh… Would it be okay for me to ask why?” Jacob asked.

“Of course. It’s all in the past,” you laughed. “I had some bad memories in Seoul and left abruptly at the end of my last year of high school. That was when I moved to L.A. to start anew.”

Sangyeon recalled the day you disappeared. He had texted you, asking to meet at the playground. After finding out about a misunderstanding you had, he wanted to resolve it as soon as possible. He waited there for hours but you never showed. You missed school for a week before your teacher suddenly announced that you would not be returning.

And that was the end of his friendship with you. You left without a warning or farewell. Now, you stood in front of him again. After seven years, he was reunited with you as an adult. He was both excited and confused. When he first saw you at the door, he wanted to blurt your name out and catch up on all the missed time. But when you introduced yourself to him as if it was your first meeting, he found himself doing the same.

At every encounter, you acted as if he was a stranger. At first, he thought you forgot about him and it hurt. But now, he supposed that you just wanted to forget about him. When you mentioned that you had bad memories of Seoul and that you were glad to start fresh in Los Angeles, he realized that he was nothing but a painful past to you.

So he put on a poker face and went along with your little act. For a month, he kept his distance from you and made sure to stay within the strict boundaries of a landlord and a tenant. While his friends grew close to you, he remained reserved.

“Why are you so cold to Y/n?” Changmin once asked him. Sangyeon never answered the question and continued to keep his facade up.

Meanwhile, you were clueless as to why Sangyeon was so standoffish. You had asked his friends, who were a lot more pleasant, if he was normally inhospitable to new people. At their unnatural attempts to change the subject, you figured it was just you that he disliked.

Still, Sangyeon couldn’t hide his innate desire to take care of you in his own ways. Every time your favorite snack ran low in the pantry, he would stack up on it next time he went to the mart. Knowing you hated the cold, he would make sure to keep the house temperature high—even when Jaehyun went to lower it, complaining that he was hot. When you fell asleep on the couch, he would cover you with the blanket you kicked to the floor.

The boy in front of you was extremely close as he reached behind your shoulders to put the necklace on for you. You held your breath and felt your heart race.

“There,” he grinned proudly. “How pretty.”

“Me or the necklace?” you asked, half joking and half serious. He shrugged, prompting you to playfully punch his arm.

“Now you’re forever indebted to me, Y/n. That’s a one of a kind necklace you can’t find anywhere else. Be honored I made it for you,” he declared. You rolled your eyes at his arrogance but still smiled nonetheless.

“Since I gave you this, you can’t ever forget me, okay?” he made you promise.

Your eyes opened, waking you up from your dream. Finding it odd how vivid it was, you frowned and sat up. You wondered if it was a part of your missing memory.

The view outside your window revealed a white wonderland, reminding you that the weather forecast predicted a snowstorm today. You groaned, remembering that today was also the day that you would be alone with Sangyeon. Jacob was on a business trip whereas Changmin and Jaehyun went to their hometowns to visit their parents.

“The snow just has to lock us inside this house today of all days,” you mumbled as you snuggled back into your blanket.

You closed your eyes, wanting to sleep a little more. After half an hour of trying to fall back asleep, you gave up with an exasperated sigh. You changed into a sweatshirt and went downstairs to make yourself some hot chocolate.

To your surprise, Sangyeon was already in the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate. You both froze, not knowing how to interact without at least one of the other three guys.

“Here, you can have this one. I’ll make myself another one,” he finally spoke, handing you the cup topped with marshmallows.

You muttered a word of thanks as you wrapped your hands around the warm drink. Looking at the window, you saw that the snow was piling up a lot already. In an attempt to break through the walls Sangyeon had built around you, you mustered up the courage to ask if he wanted to watch a movie together. Taken aback, he nodded before he even fully processed your question.

That’s how the two of you ended up on the coach with a randomly chosen film playing on the TV screen. The movie was better than you thought it’d be. The subtle love line brought a comedic relief in such an action-packed plot. You enjoyed it until the main character ended up with amnesia; it made you uncomfortable as it reminded you of your own accident. Noticing that you weren’t focusing on the movie anymore, Sangyeon paused it and asked if you wanted to stop watching.

Not wanting to ruin the mood, you shook your head. He stared at you for a bit before turning it off. Although you were relieved, you felt bad because he seemed to be enjoying the film.

Trying to make up for it, you offered to make lunch. At his reluctance, you insisted since you both had to eat and delivery would take a long time. He followed you into the kitchen, watching as you surfed the internet for recipes.

You managed to keep the conversation flowing as you cooked. You asked about his job and he asked about your experience as a college student in another country. You were happy that he was finally opening up to you. By the end of the meal, you felt comfortable enough to share a little more about yourself.

“To be honest, I was very hesitant about coming back to Korea. When I left seven years ago, I left behind a lot,” you began.

“Yeah, you left me behind,” Sangyeon wanted to say. Instead, he kept his thoughts to himself.

“I mentioned before that I don’t remember much of my high school years. The only memories I have of back then are whatever my parents told me. Which isn’t much. They were always too busy to know what went on in my life,” you stated.

Trying to piece the information together, he carefully asked what you meant by that.

“I got into a car accident seven years ago,” you sheepishly revealed, making his eyes widen. “Apparently I was in a coma for about a week. When I woke up, I was told that I was suffering from amnesia. I was hospitalized for another few weeks to recover and then sent to California to be with my cousin, Eric. There, I went through physical therapy and attended university. I was hoping to leave behind my trauma in Korea.”

“O-Oh, I didn’t know you went through all that,” he stammered, embarrassed.

“I feel like there’s a part of my life that I’m missing and I hate it,” you confessed. “I get these dreams sometimes and I think it might be my missing memories but I’m not too sure.”

The two of you fell into silence. Sangyeon despised himself for not knowing what happened. He had been too busy pitying himself to stop and think from your perspective. He didn’t deserve to have you remember him. He figured it was best that you forgot him. There was no point in disclosing everything now anyway.

After that day, you thought you had gotten closer to Sangyeon. Contrary to your expectations, however, you grew even more distant. At first, you thought you were overthinking. But as the week went on, it became obvious that he was indeed avoiding you.

Eventually, Jacob confronted him about it. He trapped his best friend and demanded an explanation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sangyeon lied with a straight face. Sighing, Jacob let it go. He knew that he couldn’t force anything out of him.

Despite Sangyeon’s efforts to keep away from you, he still continued to quietly do little things for you. Luckily for him, you didn’t notice. You didn’t think twice about the pot of coffee that was always prepared every morning or your shoes that were neatly put away after you left them scattered at the entrance.

You didn’t know why you felt so disappointed. You didn’t realize that you had grown attached to him as time passed by. Something about him felt familiar and comfortable. Yet, at the same time, he felt like a challenge. He was aloof but occasionally had moments that showed his soft side. He intrigued you.

“Y/n, you can’t keep associating yourself with that boy. Imagine how shocked we were when we heard those rumors about you two dating! You know your father has plans for you and Juyeon,” your mother chided.

“It’s the 21st century! I am not getting into an arranged marriage. Especially not just for the sake of father’s political ambitions,” you yelled.

A slap was delivered to your face. The sound was loud and you felt your cheek throb in pain. Bewildered, you glared at the woman in front of you. Deeming your action as disrespectful, your mother slapped you once again.

“You don’t even deserve to be called a mother,” you spat.

With that, you stormed out of the house. The boy your mother demanded you to stay away from wasn’t even your boyfriend. You had hoped that he would be one day but that hope dissipated when you saw another girl in his arms earlier that day. Tears blinded your vision as you fumbled for your phone. You called Eric, praying that he would pick up despite the time difference. To your relief, he did and his voice caused you to sob.

“Y/n? Y/n, what’s wrong?” Eric asked, concerned.

You barely managed to tell him what was going on in between your cries. He tried to calm you down but it was futile. You weren’t listening. You were too busy running away. Too busy to notice the car that was speeding towards you.

You woke up gasping for air. Your heart was beating fast as you checked your surroundings. Once you realized that you were in your room and not on the streets, you relaxed.

“Was that just a dream? Or a flashback?” you murmured. You brushed it off, blaming your return to Korea for these weird dreams.

Eric was landing in Korea today and you were thrilled. You missed him greatly and couldn’t wait to see him again. You glanced at the clock to check the time. You had to leave soon to greet him at the airport. Quickly getting dressed, you hummed in excitement.

On your way down, you heard the doorbell ring. You cocked your head, wondering if one of the guys had invited a guest. You shouted out that you’d get the door and ran to open it.

“Surprise!” Eric yelled, holding a bouquet of flowers.

It took you a moment to process the scene in front of you. You blinked a few times before you squealed and jumped into his arms. He laughed, dropping the flowers to hold onto you. The noise brought your housemates downstairs with curiosity. You quickly introduced everyone to each other and pulled your cousin inside once they finished exchanging greetings.

“I thought your plane was landing in an hour!” you exclaimed.

“I told you the wrong time so I could come surprise you instead,” he winked.

You didn’t notice Eric staring Sangyeon down but Sangyeon definitely did. He tried to ignore it, assuming that your cousin just wasn’t happy with the fact that you were living with four males.

You spent the rest of the day catching up with Eric and exploring your neighborhood together. You showed him your favorite cafe and feasted on the waffles there. He filled you in on how his parents—your aunt and uncle—were doing. They drilled him to make sure he told you how much they missed you, making you giggle. As proof of his completed mission, he took a selfie with you to send to them.

“I miss them too,” you pouted. “I better video call them soon. It’s hard trying to match the time zone and their work schedule.”

“Or,” he dragged out the word expectantly. “You could just move back to L.A.”

“Eric, you know why I came back. And what it took for me to do so.”

“I know, I know. But I honestly don’t know how I feel about you trying to retrieve your memory. Maybe some things are better left forgotten?”

“For the past seven years, something in the corner of my brain has been irking me. I know I’m forgetting something important. I feel it.”

He sighed and put his hands up as a sign of defeat.

“Just remember that if you don’t find what you’re looking for or if you aren’t happy with what you find, you can always go back to join me in L.A.” he said softly.

It was a hard secret to keep from you for almost a decade. In exchange for calling off your arranged marriage, your parents made him promise to never tell you about what happened the day of the accident. You moving to Los Angeles was the solution your parents came up with to keep you away from that past.

Seeing Sangyeon at your house gave him a bad feeling. He didn’t know what he told you and was scared that it was only a matter of time before your memories returned after seeing him so often.

Before Eric left for Seoul, he pulled Sangyeon aside to give him a warning.

“I don’t know why you’re lingering around my cousin but I know who you are,” Eric glared. “I obviously don’t know the whole story of what happened back when you two were in high school but I don’t quite like you. If you’re simply here for a place to live, keep it that way. Don’t put anything in Y/n’s head. She doesn’t need to remember what you did to her.”

“What I did to her?” Sangyeon repeated, confused. “But I didn’t- wait, are you talking about-”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Eric interrupted. “You led her on and then hugged another girl right in front of her.”

“The girl she saw me with wasn’t my girlfriend. She suddenly came up to me and confessed. That hug was initiated by her and was one sided. I found out about that misunderstanding and was trying to clear it up the day she disappeared.”

“Does it matter anymore after all these years?” Eric sighed. “Listen, you have no idea what Y/n went through back then and what was sacrificed to let her live the way she wanted to.”

“If there’s something you want to tell me, don’t beat around the bush,” Sangyeon frowned. Eric let out an exasperated sigh, conflicted. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to reveal details to him but he felt that it was necessary.

“That day. Y/n’s parents found out about how you two had a thing. There were rumors going around and it reached their ears. I don’t know if Y/n ever told you but they already had a guy in mind for her. Some stupid politics shit. Obviously, she said that was ridiculous but what power does a teenager have over their parents? She was fighting so hard for you but it was all in vain. You broke her heart.”

Sangyeon’s face crumbled at his words. You had never told him about the struggles you had in your home but he should have caught on from the day he first met you.

“That accident took away her memory. For better or for worse. She forgot all about the guy her parents pushed her towards and she forgot about the pain you caused her. And to be quite frank, I want it to stay that way. She came back to Korea to recover her memories but she deserves peace and happiness. She doesn’t need any more dramatic twists in her life. If you still truly care for her, you would agree,” your cousin said before he left.

A figure stood in front of you. You couldn’t see the face but there was a sense of familiarity. It was the same boy from your previous dreams.

“How could you not remember me, Y/n?” he asked.

You wanted to hold his hand and try to recall who he was. You wanted to hug him and tell him that you didn’t intentionally forget him. But your body would not move according to your will.

You awoke to a pounding head and sore throat. Feeling your nose run, you reached out for a tissue. You moaned in pain, realizing you had a bodyache as well. You couldn’t bear to get up and pulled the blanket closer to your body to keep warm. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to fall back asleep.

Downstairs, the guys were eating lunch together. Jaehyun looked at his watch and verbally noted that you still hadn’t woken up.

“Do you think we should wake her up to eat?” Changmin asked, to which Jacob shook his head, saying that they should leave you to rest.

“I wonder if she’s sick? I heard her coughing in the middle of the night when I got up to go to the bathroom,” Jaehyun said.

On the outside, Sangyeon pretended not to care. On the inside, however, he was extremely worried. You always got sick at least twice each winter. After quickly finishing his meal, he grabbed his coat and headed out to the pharmacy. He asked for any and every medicine to help with colds and kept the bag in his pocket when he came back.

He stopped in front of your door with his hand hovering mid-knock. He decided against knocking and left the bag of medicines hanging on your handle.

When evening came around, Jacob went up to your room with a bowl of porridge. Seeing the bag still on the door, he knocked and entered with it.

“So you are sick,” he commented when he saw your disheveled image.

“Jacob, you are an angel,” you gasped at the sight of the food.

“Actually, the medicine isn’t from me. I think that might have been Jaehyun. It was left on your door handle,” he said as he set the tray down on your desk.

You thanked him for the porridge and made a mental note to thank Jaehyun later. Too tired to do anything else, you took the medicine and fell into another deep sleep.

The next day, you felt better enough to get out of bed. Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, you trudged downstairs. You saw Jaehyun in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee and said good morning.

“Oh! I didn’t get the chance to tell you yesterday but thanks for the medicine,” you smiled.

“Huh? What medicine?” he tilted his head in confusion.

“You weren’t the one who left medicine for me outside my door?” you blinked. He shook his head and you assumed that it had been Changmin.

However, when you asked Changmin about it, he was clueless as well. It left you with only one other possibility and your heart skipped a beat at the thought. Wanting to express your gratitude, you went out and bought ingredients to make him some kimbap. You spent the rest of the morning working hard in the kitchen, persevering through multiple mistakes.

You groaned the third time the kimbap popped while you tried to roll it. You considered giving up for a brief moment but shook your head. With a determined sigh, you pulled out another sheet of dried seaweed and began your fourth attempt.

Finally, you managed to decently succeed. You grinned in triumph at your slightly deformed roll. After cleaning up the mess you made, you looked out the window to see Sangyeon reading in the yard with a beanie on and a scarf wrapped around his neck. Hoping to keep him warm, you poured a cup of hot coffee and walked towards him with the food nicely plated.

“Hey Sangyeon,” you said as you held out the plate. “I made you some kimbap for you to munch on as you read.”

“No thanks,” he said coldly. You blinked, not expecting such an answer.

“O-Oh… do you not like kimbap?” you awkwardly laughed. “Here, have some coffee then.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to mind me,” he closed his book and stood up to leave. You frowned at his rudeness, ticked off.

“You could at least take the coffee if you don’t want the food,” you said, making him pause. “Or at the very least politely decline considering the effort I put in.”

“I never asked you to put in any effort towards me.”

You scoffed and put the cup and plate down to fold your arms. His harsh words were so different from his kind actions. It constantly felt like he was trying so hard to push you out and you didn’t understand why.

“Then what’s with the medicine you left for me yesterday?” you confronted him. He froze, not knowing how he got caught. He then noticed that you came outside with no outerwear, making him sigh. Trying to avoid an argument, he silently took his scarf off and put it on you before turning around to leave.

“What the hell, Lee Sangyeon?” you blurted. You placed yourself in front of him to stop him from leaving.

“What is with you? Literally one day you��re taking care of me behind my back and the next you’re avoiding me like the plague. Is this your tsundere concept or what?” you huffed.

You waited for him to say something back but he kept his lips pursed. Exasperated, you ripped the scarf off and stormed back inside.

Sangyeon cursed at himself in his mind. He could’ve handled that a lot better. Sighing, he bent down to pick up the scarf thrown on the ground. At a closer glance, he saw your necklace buried in the fabric. He held it up and stared at the jewelry in his palm. With a conflicted expression, his grip tightened around it, enclosing it in his fist.

You decided that you were over Sangyeon once and for all. You didn’t care how tired he came home looking every night or if was eating properly. You officially gave up on getting closer to him. If he wanted to push you away with his stupid tsundere ways, then that was his problem and not yours.

Grumbling, you climbed into bed to comfort yourself by watching Netflix. You very much rather preferred having your mind occupied with fictional characters than your own issues.

By the time evening rolled around, you grabbed your clothes and headed to the bathroom to shower. Your hands reached up to your neck to take your necklace off but were met with bare skin. Your eyes widened as you looked in the mirror, realizing that the necklace was gone.

You didn’t remember when or where you got it but you always had a feeling that it was important to you. You felt anxious without it.

You rushed to the kitchen to find it. Changmin was staring at you, perplexed, as you crawled across the floor to check every nook and cranny.

“Are you looking for something?” he asked.

“My necklace,” you tensed. “I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it here?”

He shook his head as he apologized, saying he hadn’t. Fretting, you checked the living room hoping it was hidden somewhere on the couch. When it still didn’t turn up, you ran outside to check the yard.

At that moment, Jacob and Sangyeon came down and saw Changmin looking out the window. Curious to see what he was watching, they followed his gaze to see you examining the grass.

“What’s Y/n doing?” Jacob asked.

“I think she lost her necklace,” Changmin answered as he took another bite of his apple. “It must be really important to her. She’s been searching for a while now.”

“I hope she finds it soon. It’s cold out at night,” Jacob said with a concerned look on his face.

Sangyeon stiffened, feeling the necklace in his pocket. He brushed it off, thinking you would give up soon. After pouring himself a cup of tea, he returned to his room. The sky rumbled, warning of incoming rain.

“I’m sure she’ll come back in now,” he mumbled.

Half an hour passed as Sangyeon continued reading his book. It was now pouring outside and the raindrops tapped violently against the windows. He reached out for his tea, only to notice be met with an empty cup. He placed the book down and went to the kitchen for a refill.

He was shocked to see you still in the yard, crouched down with a flashlight. Anger bubbled up inside him and he found himself grabbing an umbrella and joining you outside. Holding your wrist, he lifted you up to face him. The rain ceaselessly attacked the umbrella over your heads and his heart broke at the sight of you. You were drenched and your hair stuck to the sides of your face.

“Let go of me. I need to find something,” you freed yourself from his grasp and went back to shifting through the grass.

“It’s late and it’s raining. You can look for it later,” he said as he pulled you back up.

“No, I have to find it now,” you insisted.

“Y/n, you’re sick!” he exploded. “What’s more important than your health right now?”

“My necklace!” you yelled back. “I can’t remember who gave it to me but I know it was a gift. I can’t lose it. I just know that it’s from someone important. It’s the missing memory I came back to Korea to find!”

His chest clenched as your tears blended in with the rain. He never thought that the necklace would mean so much to you. Hesitantly, he pulled it out from his pocket and handed it to you.

“I’m the one who gave it to you, Y/n,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Seven years ago, I was the one who made this necklace and gave it to you. This isn’t what I meant when I said that you were indebted to me.”

Puzzled, you stared at the chain hanging from your clasp. You were beyond confused. If you had known Sangyeon, why did he never act like it? Then, the pieces started to come together and his behavior started to make sense. Those eyes that seemed to recognize you from day one. The endless supply of the snacks you never expressed your love for in front of the guys. The dreams that you suddenly understood now.

“You knew who I was the entire time… and you didn’t say anything?” your voice cracked. “You knew I was out here looking for the necklace that you had and you still didn’t say anything?”

“I-”

“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shoved the umbrella away from you and slowly walked towards the house.

“Now you’re forever indebted to me, Y/n. That’s a one of a kind necklace you can’t find anywhere else. Be honored I made it for you.”

You winced at the sudden flashback.

“Y/n, you can’t keep associating yourself with that boy.”

You shook your head as if the memories would shake out of your mind.

“You don’t even deserve to be called a mother.”

You stumbled, causing you to flinch. Sangyeon ran to hold onto you and caught you just in time before your knees went weak. You felt your lungs tighten as the world spun around you and his voice became muffled. Then, everything went black.

“We gave her a fever reducer so her temperature should be coming down soon,” the doctor said as he looked through your patient chart. “She can be discharged once she wakes up and finishes the IV treatment. As long as she rests well at home, she’ll be okay.”

Sangyeon profusely thanked the doctor before he felt to continue his rounds. Sitting down next to you, he sighed. This wasn’t what he intended at all. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy. Back then and even now, his priority had always been you. Even if it meant giving up his own desires. Even if it meant giving you up.

It was taking longer than expected for you to awaken. Sangyeon began to worry but the nurses assured him that there was no problem. He restlessly paced around your bed, praying that you were okay.

When you finally came to, it took you a moment to register your surroundings. In what felt like a long sleep, all of your lost memories came flooding back. Still overwhelmed by the sudden anamnesis, you grasped for the only thing that brought you a sense of familiarity and comfort—Sangyeon’s hand.

“Don’t leave me,” you croaked.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t let you go again,” he whispered, holding your hand tighter.

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe​

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something.  “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.”  You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter? 

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.