#but I have a deep seated fondness for the parts of it that were good. the game after all is still asking you to live even when it’s hard

[brother-emperors]

you're SO right, how is it that the best portrayal of many italian renaissance figures comes from a bad videogame from the 2010s

wheezing I’m torn between going truly this is the best portrayal of Leonardo da Vinci we may ever get, and defending AC2 even though I’m a full time Ezio Saga Hater

[screampied]

Hii vegas!! Lil request 🙏🙏 brat taming w jealous!Sukuna BUTTTT with Sukuna doing it in front of his servants(if u already did this u can ignore this request!!)

—Sukunas no.1 glazer

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, jealous kuna, heian era! sukuna, exhibitionism, cōckwarming, dirty talk, praise, mdni.

it’s become known that sukuna doesn’t like when other eyes are all on you.

the moment he spots his servants laying their filthy eyes on his beloved favorite human, he scoffs in vex. the audacity, he didn’t like people staring at what’s his. but of course out of all days, you decided to be a brat. “c’mere,” a simple word and you were at his usual beck and call. the demon pats a hand against his manspread lap, ushering for you to take your rightful seat. his seat was his throne whilst yours was right on his thigh. taking your sweet, precious time and dragging your feet against the slick marmoreal floor, he snarls. “woman, don’t waste my time. my lap, now.”

“you all, c’mere,” he snaps his fingers with a sly eyebrow raise.

sukuna’s got a vicious gaze at his low ranked servants, a good dozen of them nearly shivering at his command. they create haste, standing in front of his throne, awaiting for his next orders.

“and lastly, you,” and his voice pitches a deep low. you merely gulp, feeling one of his arms sling around your waist, another creating a teasing trail down your nape. bringing a chaste kiss toward the outer part of your earlobe, he whispers salaciously. “you love testin’ my patience, huh. i was watching you earlier. i don’t like you giving my pathetic servants your precious attention.”

“oops,” you hum, and he’s not so fond of your cheeky attitude. as your back lies against his bare, broad chest - you’re facing the eyes of the fearful lackeys. still, they’re looking at you, some desperately wishing they were in your shoes.

oh, to be lucky enough to take a throne on the sukuna ryomen’s notorious lap. anyone who tried without his word would have easily been caught dead. alas, you were the exception. “was jus’ sayin’ hi, ‘kuna.”

“tch. don’t make me laugh, princess,” he murmurs, and your breath hitches once he sprawls your legs open a bit. “saying ‘hi’ doesn’t take you fifteen minutes, but i’ll spare you,” and with the way his voice delivers, it was a snarky growl underneath. timbre and haughty, you felt the sudden twitch between your thighs almost immediately.

he wasn’t gonna spare you,

in fact— you figured he’d do something else like maybe bend you over his knee and spank you. but sukuna had another thing in mind.

a thing where you’d be taking his cock right in front of his servants. staring them dead in the eyes as you’re creaming down their righteous king’s shaft.

as you’re barreling his hefty length, you shudder the moment you feel his second cock brush up against your sopping folds. they were stacked upon each other but your pussy’s main focus was on the one directly in front, not behind.

“good girl, easy. don’t go down too quick or ya might break,” and your body twitches in rapture once his feverish breath dances against your skin. “heh, ‘s that what you want? to be broken?”

“y- yes,” you mewl out, making a failing attempt to rock your hips against his lap. his servants claw their nails into their thighs, the awkward tension wafting against the air like wind as they just stare. the fact that dozens of eyes were seeing you like this made you throb. convulsing pulses multiply and shoot through your folds before a big hand wraps around your throat. chortling in a raspy manner, sukuna spanks your ass for you to hurry. sinking down on his thickset dick makes your toes curl - he’s big. chewing on your lip, you moan. “kuna, ‘s fuckin’ big, fuuuuck.”

“what a nasty fuckin’ mouth,” he growls, and another one of his hands goes toward your drooling, weeping cunt. a palm swiftly swats against your entrance, allowing your legs to sprawl wider and you whimper. “mhm, brat. this is supposed to be a punishment but y’er just turned on, huh,” and as you’re all the way down on his cock, feeling the tiny pressuring prod and pierce through your tummy, you nod against his chest. “thought so,” he chuckles lowly, stern ruby eyes leering toward his servants. “look at her. none of you will be this wet for me, acknowledge that.”

as he’s speaking to them as if they’re below him, and in this case—they were,

while another one of his hands toy against your folds, your slit dribbles with slick and you’re happily coating his base with your juices. your legs were about to collapse and you moan whilst sukuna’s pitchy deep voice rumbles in the background. his voice,

it’s heavily intimidating. booming and loud, no one dared to defy him.

it’s so gruff and smothered with authoritative baritone that it rings and reverberates throughout the sacred walls of his domain. his scent, his rich cologne scent clogs through your nostrils as your legs struggle to maintain its stillness. “f- fuck, ‘kuna ‘m not gonna l- last,” you whine, chest deflating within each breath snatching out your lungs. with a hand gripping his thigh, yanking on the silk made fabric of his kimono—you whimper. “s- sukunaaa.”

“such a sensitive little thing,” he tsks, cockily shaking his head side to side before one of his arms wraps around your torso. the demon’s cock, fat and all, buries itself completely into you and you moan the moment you try to grind back on him. it’s pathetic, all that bratiness earlier and now, you were already creaming. it comes quick, so quick that you barely even have time to react. his peeling foreskin that’s attached near the crown of his dick tickles against your gummy walls, relishing in your goopy grip. “oh,” he murmurs, feeling your sweet slick drench him from the base down. the entire time, the king’s got the most haughty grin, feeling your human body slump against his soft tatted chest in its defeat. “that was early, princess. a bit too early.”

you whimper, still coming undone and the white noise ringing in your ears only intensifies. panting repeatedly, you squeeze against his thigh before the only words you could sputter out was, “s- sukuna, ‘kuna- more.”

“heh, always a greedy girl,” he grunts, feeling his cock twitch at your simple plea. the pesky servants were appalled, witnessing such lewd activity before them. sukuna ryomen and his favorite human. with a titter, one of his hands gives your cunt a good squeeze, snickering at how you easily gush all out on the center of his palm. “who’s pussy does this belong to though, tell me,” and his eyes dart toward the little audience, his former jealously subsiding a bit. “tell our friends too, let ‘em know, princess.”

his touch was so sharp—you gasp, feeling an extra limb of his grab against your neglected breasts, a thumb flicking against your perky nipples that poke out of your cottony blouse. “ngh, belongs to y- you, ‘kuna.”

with a single hand, he turns your head, glancing near his extra peripherals of the incoming drool that’s seeping from the corners of your mouth. once he cranes your head, he makes you stare straight at his servants. “uh huh, tell them. tell them who’s pussy ‘s my favorite.”

“m- mine,” you moan, his touch making you shudder in utmost pleasure. glossy eyes meet the dozens of people - secretly sucking their teeth and growing envious of you, of you getting off to this entire thing. a few of them shamelessly yearned to be in your place, but they knew with you in the picture, they never stood a chance. “my p- pussy’s your favorite, ‘kuna. ‘m yours.”

“good girl,” he praises, and you’re still on his lap with his twitching cock shoved deep into your clingy walls. with a hand again, he turns your head to the side to face him briefly - sneaking a wet kiss near your lips for a few seconds. you moan, feeling the edges of his fangs and his forked tongue collide and mash inside of your mouth.

all hands of his feel and wander and roam against your body at such a slow pace, you whimper before he gives his unworthy servants one final side eye.

“show’s over. get lost,” he snarls, and they all scatter like flies. the large darkened room’s finally empty, and it’s just you and your king.

sukuna hums in amusement at your state, the brat within you nowhere to be found before he whispers against your ear. the final words of the demon not only makes your cunt twitch but a shiver runs down your spine. “seems like my girl needs a bit more training. now now, since we have some privacy, we should try one of my favorites. full nelson,” and he purrs.

“i wanna see you take both of me, princess. be a good girl ‘n bend over for your king.”

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

suguru is too well-mannered for his own good.

when you walk into his living room, a lidded paper cup in hand, he’s seated on the couch. right in front of the coffee table, his fingers tapping the keys of his laptop, a series of clicks filling the open air.

he’s just as beautiful as always. light shines in from the veranda, through parted curtains, licking along the contours of his face; illuminating his face lines, soft crows’ feet by his eyes. he’s got his hair tied up into a messy bun, raven locks and silver strands, only slightly grayed, some of them tickling the back of his neck — behind a pair of reading glasses, his eyes narrow in concentration.

you can see his age, like this, but also not at all. he looks younger than ever, with the sun as his gown.

suddenly, he raises his head, meeting your adoring gaze with his own; two pools of amber, always warm, like they were made to reflect sunlight, made to pull you in. his lips curling up into a fond smile.

but your gaze strays down to his hands.

big, steady hands. hands that always find their way to the dips of your waist, or your shoulders, or the top of your head. reaching out to pinch your cheek, to soothe your headaches after long lectures, to mend and mold any lump of clay you place into his waiting palms — guide it into whatever shape he pleases, with those skilled fingers.

when you think of suguru, you think of pottery. you think of something beautiful, and there he is.

and he’s holding a cup.

as you step farther into his line of vision, hungry for a proper look at him, you can’t help but notice it. painted a deep, dark green, his favorite, but the shape is all wrong — uneven, not nearly polished enough, rough around the edges. when he puts it back down on the table, it wobbles.

(you visibly cringe.)

”hi, sweetie.”

that deep, honeyed voice tugs you back into reality, your gaze pulled up like a puppet on a string. suguru is patient, just taking you in, waiting for a response. there’s never any rush, when it comes to him. 

a shy smile blooms on your lips. 

”hi,” you echo, stepping closer yet; raising a hand, the one carrying the paper cup, swaying it lightly side to side. ”i got you a latte.”

”oh?” he lets out a soft noise, something like a coo, eyes blooming with fondness. ”chai?”

”mhm.”

his smile only grows. you watch him lean back, absently crossing his arms, thick muscles hidden under the turtleneck he’s sporting. when you take a step closer, eager to hand it to him, he stops you. 

”why don’t you give it a taste for me?” he asks, giving you a sweet tilt of his head. eyes soft and amused.

you blink.

after a moment, you raise the cup to your lips; taking a tentative sip of the brew. it’s hot on your tongue, a dash of pleasant spices, but mellow and sweet. just the way he likes it. you sigh out in bliss.

he only chuckles. ”how is it?”

”tasty,” you hum, licking your lips. holding it out for him to take. ”not too sweet, don’t worry.”

suguru accepts the cup with a smile, his thumb lingering on your hand for a moment, caressing the skin in a soothing motion. his voice a low, tender murmur. ”thank you, honey.”

(a warm feeling sprouts in your chest.)

”i’ll get you a cup next time i pass by a café,” he continues, taking a tentative sip of his own. he visibly perks up at the taste. ”what would you like?”

”you don’t have to!” you’re quick to assure him, blinking sheepishly. but, of course, he won’t have it.

”i want to,” he chuckles. ”you’ll make me very happy if you let me.”

…

there’s no use protesting, when it comes to things like this. when he gets like this. telling suguru not to take care of you is like asking the sun not to shine.

so you let out a sigh.

”i… want a caramel frappe, please…”

another little chuckle. his voice is soft, as always, like a coo is resting on the tip of his tongue. ”understood.”

suguru watches you, silently, for just a moment or two. you’re meeting his gaze with a shy pair of eyes, always a little flustered by his attention, his care. his sweet little baby bird, coming over just to give him something to drink. straight out of class. 

(you must be in need of some pampering.)

he pats his lap. ”come here,” he croons, parting his legs to give you space to take up. ”keep me company while i work. i want to hear about your day, sweetie.”

you blink, again. looking down at his lap, then back up at him, at the light catching onto the silver of his half-rim frames. he gives you a patient, closed-eyed smile — waiting for you to take your rightful place.

and you do.

his thighs feel solid, beneath you, big arms curling around your waist as you crawl into his lap. one hand goes to rest on your hip, the other on your lower back, cradling you close, secure in his embrace. you wrap your arms around his neck, legs draped over his thighs, leaning into his touch; inhaling the scent of sandalwood and tea leaves.

”… it was pretty boring.”

”oh, i’m sure you can do better than that.” he grins, brushing his thumb over the fabric of your jeans, an absentminded gesture. ”any interesting lectures?”

”uhhh…” 

as you take the time to think, recollecting your long and tiring day, suguru leans forward — reaching for the cup. the ugly one. pulling it closer, putting the ceramic to his lips, to finish whatever he was drinking before you came in. green tea, you assume. the sip he takes resounds in your ear, your eyes sticking to his fingers as he places it back on the wooden table with a clink — it wobbles again. 

you give it a look of silent contempt.

… a look suguru seems to notice. because his keen, warm eyes trail down to where yours are still resting, and then back up at your little frown. he raises a brow, but he’s still smiling, an amused curl of his lips.

 ”… what?”

a moment passes. you consider staying silent, but the nagging curiosity gets the better of you. avoiding his gaze, still glancing down at the cup in question, absently clearing your throat.

”you still… use that one?” you ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. thinking that it should be stashed away in some forgotten cupboard, not out in the open — but maybe your boyfriend is just too polite to do something like that. 

suguru only blinks. ”why wouldn’t i?”

…

you give him a look.

he returns it with a look of his own; silent, coaxing, that one questioning raise of his brow. he pairs it with a gentle squeeze to your hip, knowing it’ll make you relent. and he’s right.

”it’s…” you part your lips, searching for the right word, frowning down at the little ceramic bundle of joy. with its bumpy texture, that awkward-looking handle, the uneven bottom layer. ”so ugly, suguru.”

”ugly?” he echoes, a spark of amusement in his amber eyes. but he sounds a little discontent, almost protective. ”now, now. beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my love.”

his deep voice buzzes in your ear, as he reaches out again, cradling the cup with one large hand. gazing down at it with a look you can’t quite place — so sweet it makes you shiver. out of the corner of your eye, you notice him giving you a pointed look. 

”… and i happen to think this cup is very charming.”

you can’t help but pout, shying away from his gaze. gnawing at your bottom lip, crossing your arms and resting your cheek near the crook of his neck, muttering under your breath. ”what’s charming about a cup that can barely stand…?”

”you made it,” he answers, simply, no hesitation in his voice. ”with your own hands and fingers. and you gave it to me.”

ever so gently, he grips your jaw; his pointer and middle finger tilting your chin to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. 

”… don’t you think there’s an awful lot of charm in that?”

(warm. his eyes look warm enough to fall into.)

a sigh slips past your lips. he gives you a soft tilt of his head, and you part your lips in pliant response. sulking. ”the ones you’ve made for me are so much better, though…”

you think of all the bowls, all the cups, the plates he’s given you — the same ones you use every single day, sitting tall and proud on your shelves, made entirely by him. in all kinds of elegant patterns, your initials carved at the bottom of every single one. he always gives you the ones he’s most proud of, after he’s finished with his classes.

… in comparison, yours is just…

”we don’t make art for needless comparison,” he shushes you, ever so fondly. ”there’s no end to that. we make it because it’s fun. my pieces aren’t better or lesser than yours just because i happen to be more experienced.”

…

when you don’t respond, suguru shifts — cradling you close, lifting the cup up to catch the light of the evening sun. it cascades down the ceramic, a mellow orange glow gliding across the green expanse. he watches it with barely concealed adoration.

”… this is my favorite one, you know. in my entire collection.” a joyous little hum buzzes in his throat. ”i’ve never made a cup i liked as much as this.”

you watch his expression change, eyes flickering with something soft and subtle, crinkled at the edges. his voice is nothing but sincere — coated in that sturdy, reliable tilt, like nothing he says could possibly be a lie. even if he tried, you doubt he could fake this kind of delight. putting the cup back down, as gentle as he can, as if it’s a cherished possession. he only looks more delighted when it wobbles a bit.

without thinking, the words slip past your lips.

”… i’ll make you another one.”

suguru’s gaze flicks down to meet yours. all bright and determined, your cheek squished against his shoulder, enough to make him want to coo. he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

”oh…? joining us in the studio again?”

”joining you,” you’re quick to correct, letting out a quiet huff. ”i… don’t want your students to make fun of me.”

a raspy chuckle leaves his lips. ”they won’t,” he assures you, a hint of pride in his voice. ”they’re much too well-behaved.”

”well-behaved around you, maybe,” you mutter, with a roll of your eyes. nuzzling against his jaw, frowning softly. ”… you’re coddling them.”

”i coddle you,” he purrs, with an affectionate squeeze to your hip. ”i don’t see you complaining, do i?”

”… that’s different.” 

the tiny pout on your lips makes him laugh. but he indulges you, always, all too eager to let you have your way. ”of course it is,” he coos, deep and teasing. ”how could i ever suggest otherwise?”

you fail to stifle a smile. feeling his skin against yours, his fingers rubbing absentminded patterns into your back, that soothing voice rumbling in your ear. when he leans down, to pick up the paper cup, you’re filled with a sense of purpose. you’ll just have to make a better cup next time — one that doesn’t wobble, with an smoother texture, perfectly symmetrical. one he can show off to his students and coworkers, the same way you do with all the pottery he’s given you.

suguru deserves nothing but the best, after all.

… what you don’t realize is that it won’t matter either way. even if you give him a better option, he’ll undoubtedly continue to use the cup he has now — with a sheepish little smile, and a sorry, honey. it seems i’ve gotten attached.

(… you suppose it’s the thought that counts.)

[rachalixie]

can’t get you off my mind

all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 4k

it starts at a bar. 

or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.

but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 

“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 

“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”

you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 

“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”

“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”

“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 

he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.

–

he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 

a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 

the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 

your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 

another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 

“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”

“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?

“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”

the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 

by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.

changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 

“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 

“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”

“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”

“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”

“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 

“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 

“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”

“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”

“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”

the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 

— 

he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 

god, is everything about this man endearing? 

he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 

he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 

“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 

“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 

four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 

“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”

“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 

“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 

“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”

“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”

he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 

it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 

“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”

he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 

“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 

“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”

“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”

“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 

“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 

“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”

you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 

–

your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 

you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 

you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 

you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 

“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”

it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold

onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 

“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 

“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 

“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 

chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 

“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”

“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 

—

your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 

chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”

“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 

“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 

“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 

“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 

“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”

you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 

he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 

as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 

the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 

you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 

you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

—

your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 

he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 

he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 

you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 

he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 

“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”

“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 

“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”

he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 

“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”

“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”

he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.

“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 

“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Ghosted

Jazz had been pacing back and forth in her apartment, managing to stop herself from ripping out her hair through sheer willpower. He was meant to have arrived nearly four hours ago and he still wasn’t answering his phone.

“It’s fine,” she told herself, “maybe his phone battery is just dead. Or it could be broken? His brothers can be rowdy.”

Jazz took a deep breath through the mouth, and out through the nose. She smoothed put the wrinkles in her clothes as best she could before sitting herself down on the edge of the couch. And just as she sat down her phone buzzed to life in her hand.

Quicker than her dad could say ‘GHOST’ Jazz whipped out her phone and answered.

“Hello? Where are you? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve be-”

“Woah! Jazz! Slow down!” Danny’s voice suddenly came through the speaker. “Uh, I’m at home and I don’t know why you’d be worried. I haven’t done anything worthy of your concern. Revelry.” He added that last part quietly.

Jazz sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “Sorry Danny, I thought you were-” she sighed again, “doesn’t matter. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Are you alright Jazz?”

“I’m okay. Just…” she slumped back in her seat, playing with a lose threat on the arm rest before she continued, “got stood up.” She admitted. They told each other everything, Jazz and Danny did. They didn’t keep secrets from one another anymore, which was why she felt so comfortable sharing the troubles in her live life with him.

Jazz and Danny had become so close during their teen years when Danny was still figuring everything out with himself. And Jazz? Jazz had tired to be there for him as best she could. Somewhere between helping Danny and studying and taking care of the house when their parents were too absorbed in their work, Jazz had completely forgotten about herself. What else was there besides school, and Danny? Jazz hadn’t allowed herself to go in dates, not after the incident with Johnny and the chaos with the GIW. She couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk her brother’s secret. Couldn’t risk whoever it was she was seeing. Couldn’t risk herself.

And when Jazz had first moved to Gotham it had been Danny who had encouraged her to make actual friends, friend who weren’t her teachers. He had even encouraged her to try dating. Put herself out there and find Mr Right. She’d been sceptical at first, but after a while she’d relented. Because she couldn’t keep putting her own wants last.

And she wanted a partner. Someone who would care for her just as she would care for them. So she’d done it. She’d gone out on dates and met new people.

And then she met him.

He was handsome, charming, and witty. Jazz wouldn’t describe herself as the swooning type, but when she had looked into his eyes she had felt her knees buckle. And they evidentially had buckled, sending her tumbling forward. But he’d caught her and laughed out, “Falling for me already I see?”

After that, they’d just clicked. They’d gone out several times already, and Jazz had thought they’d always had a good time. But recently he’d been cancelling their dates, usually with an excuse about work or family commitments. At first she’d brushed it off, she understood that people’s lives could be hectic and unpredictable. But he’d been cancelling so often now, and a few times he wouldn’t answer his phone. But never for this long. Not without ringing her back to let her know he was alright.

Jazz had almost forgotten about Danny on the other end of the phone until he’s said, “Ghosted? In October? How festive.” That had gotten a chocked laugh from Jazz who was shaking her head with a feeling of fond amusement. Trust Danny to make a joke like that.

[lovebugism]

hi, bug! i’ve been one of your many avid readers for a long time but it’s my first time submitting a request for your summer fic fest 🥹 could i pretty please request for jealous!mean!eddie x ditzy/sunshine!reader where he sees her ex trying to win her back? ahhh thank you ily! ❤️

thank you for requesting angel, ily :D here's a sorta part 2 to this fic! — eddie doesn't realize he's been taking you on dates until your ex shows up (jealous!grumpy!eddie, friends to lovers, brief allusions to smut | 1.3k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

When Eddie took you to Benny’s Burgers that Saturday evening after your heart got broken, he fully intended for it to be the last. That was until the next Saturday came around, anyway, and he found himself hungry and thinking of you. So, sharing a milkshake at the diner became a two-time deal, begrudgingly so.

The third time was a total accident, and he’d like that on record. Eddie had come alone that day. You made a stupid joke about him stalking you when you just happened to be there, too. (Both of you were secretly hoping the other would show, of course, but neither of you would admit it out loud.)

After that, it just started to feel like tradition. Eddie didn’t feel right going to the diner without you, so he never did. Instead, he buys you dinner once a week, sits with you in your designated booth by the window, and pretends all of it is something he has to do. Because it’s much easier than acknowledging that a lifetime of Saturday evenings with you still wouldn’t be enough.

“Can I have some of your fries?” you wonder through a distressingly large mouthful of cheeseburger.

Eddie scowls. “You said you didn’t want any.”

“I didn’t,” you shrug innocently then swallow down the too-big bite. “But yours look really good…”

“Too bad,” he scoffs and chucks a fry into his mouth. “Get your own.”

You slouch against the pleather seat with your features screwed in a gentle pout. It takes Eddie a record-breaking three seconds to slide his basket of fries across the table to you.

He huffs all dramatically about ‘cause he wants you to know he’s annoyed. You rise again, beaming anyway, because you know most of it’s just for show.

Eddie watches with his brows pinched in confusion as you methodically pick a single fry from the batch. His frown deepens when you dip it into your milkshake. 

“Don’t taint the ice cream, weirdo,” he protests, exhaling sharply through his nose in place of a laugh.

You giggle through your mouthful at the screwed look on his face. “It’s good!” you insist. “Here— Try one.”

Eddie grimaces when you pluck another fry from the basket and scoop it into the milkshake. He flinches when you threaten to hand the monstrosity over to him. “I think I’m good, actually.”

“Try it.”

Your giddiness makes him smile despite himself. He concedes with a heaving sigh. “This is the last time I take you anywhere, you know that?” he grouses, mostly muffled as you feed him the ice cream-covered fry.

You smile to yourself, wider than you realize, and swipe your palms together. You’re pretty sure he’s said that to you every time he’s brought you here — yet, for some reason, he still shows up at your doorstep at seven o’clock every week. 

“Yeah, I know,” you hum with a fond sigh. “But it tastes good, right?”

Eddie’s pretty face is swirled and largely emotionless. You can’t tell if he’s disgusted or amused. “It tastes like… a potato covered in chocolate ice cream,” he deadpans.

“Wow. You’re a genius, Eds,” you muse from across the table. You cross your arms along the top of it and fight back a smile. “Can’t believe it took you two whole years to graduate.”

“Don’t push it—”

He’s interrupted, first, by the overwhelming smell of cologne (pine and lavender, achingly so) — and then by a deep and obviously forced laugh. “It didn’t take you long, did it?” a strangely familiar voice wonders aloud, deep and smooth like honey.

Your head whips at the same time as Eddie’s, both of you wearing similar looks of confusion. A tall boy with nice hair and expensive clothes (an obvious King Steve clone) stands at the head of the table. Your table.

Josh O. from fucking Mr. Mundy’s.

You force a breathy laugh of palpable confusion. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just… wondering why you never called me back,” the boy shrugs and crosses his toned arms over his equally toned chest. His smile is lopsided and perfect; his teeth are slightly crooked and perfect, too. It’s fucking annoying.

“But I guess I have my answer now, right?” Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s continues with another hearty chuckle. “Trying all the flavors of Hawkins, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s chest burns, and not in a metaphorical way. The red-hot embers there set his ribcage aflame, turning himself into a wildfire of withheld rage. His nostrils flare with it as his dark eyes flit from the asshole towering over the booth, to your cowering form, and then back to the asshole again. 

He seethes quietly and waits for you to stand up for yourself. The moment never comes.

“She didn’t call you back because you’re a fuckin’ douchebag,” Eddie blurts for the both of you, still chewing at the monstrosity he’s wildly unsure of — which he can barely taste now, through his blinding anger and all.

Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s pretty smile ebbs only slightly. He squints his glittering eyes and long lashes, fluffy brows pinching softly in confusion. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” he wonders with a cynical laugh.

Eddie’s answer is immediate and equally venomous. “The asshole taking your girlfriend on a date, tough guy,” he mocks.

The boy scoffs. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Were you sayin’ that the night you were tryin’ to cop a feel in your car?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth. The cracked pleather sticks to your clammy skin. You feel the tension pressing on both sides of you until you can hardly breathe. “Eddie, stop—”

“—You know, it’s real impolite to touch people without permission,” Eddie continues despite your plea, features pinched in a faux-sympathetic pout. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you that?”

Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s scoffs, both amused and distantly muddled. He laughs softly to himself and steps back from the table. “You’re a fuckin’ freak, man,” the boy murmurs as he leaves.

“That’s funny,” Eddie calls after him anyway. “Your mom says that, too.” 

“Eddie.”

The boy relaxes in the booth once he’s gone. His rigid shoulders deflate slowly with a drawn-out sigh. He motions across the table with a pale, ringed hand. “Can I have my fries back, or are you gonna eat ‘em all.”

His effortless deflection is almost admirable.

“I’m gonna eat ‘em all,” you joke in an instant.

“Figured,” Eddie deadpans. He reaches for the basket in front of you and plucks a couple from the dwindling pile. He pinches them into his mouth, wipes his salty hands on his jeans, and pretends nothing ever happened.

You swallow hard and avert your gaze. You cradle the cold glass of your milkshake with one hand and stir at its melting contents with the other. “Thanks for that… By the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie shrugs. “Like, seriously. Don’t. It’s gonna make everything weird if you do.”

“Okay,” you nod firmly, then glance at the boy beneath your lashes. A mischievous smirk curls at the very corner of your mouth. “So… This is a date now, huh?”

“Shut up,” Eddie frowns and takes his fries back. “It just slipped out.”

“So what? That’d make this our… Fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth,” he corrects.

Your smile widens. “Most guys usually get laid by then, don’t they?”

Eddie scoffs through his mouthful. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he quips in an audibly sarcastic monotone.

The rest of the quote-unquote date plays out like normal. You make mindless conversation while you finish your burgers, sharing a milkshake between you while you steal Eddie’s fries. 

You don’t tell him that you wouldn’t mind if he felt you up in his van — that you’d happily let him, if he asked; and Eddie doesn’t tell you that he goes to sleep dreaming about it most nights. 

[koqabear]

congratulations on 2k!! im so proud of you so heres a song equation that i think is so genius

the weeknd, one of your girls + beomgyu + smut and fluff = popular fuckboy!beomgyu x popular sweet!mc

this song is so beomgyu to me😵‍💫😵‍💫

♫: One of the Girls, The Weeknd // [2K Masterlist]

"Beomgyu’s a lot more obsessed with you than he’d like to admit."

beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 2.1K // genre: smut, pwp, only a bit of fluff sorry <3 MDNI.

warnings: dom!beomgyu, sub!mc, oral (m & f rec), name calling (slut), finger sucking(?), spitting, praise, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, etc.), deep throating, dacryphilia maybe, possessiveness, overstimulation, cumming untouched ig. unprotected sex.. lmk if i should add anything

Notes: 2k followers ended months ago and this bitch is still here

Beomgyu never intended to keep you around this long.

Pretty girls like you were never his type. Saccharine sweet, innocent smiles, bright eyes and an energetic attitude that brought people to you like flies to honey. You had the world in the palm of your hand, opportunities at your feet and friends that were loyal like dogs— you were perfect, untouchable, untainted. 

Everything he was not. 

Maybe that’s how he got where he is now, low lidded eyes observing you carefully, watching as your shining doe eyes plead up at him, careful hands smoothing up and down the rough material of his jeans; you’re so pretty like this, he finds himself thinking, all pliant and weak to him, waiting for his command like a mindless puppy— your throat bobs and your tongue darts across your lips, dainty fingers playing with the loops of his belt as you silently plead for permission to let him feel good.

“My friends were talking about you today,” Beomgyu murmurs, tilting his head and reaching down to caress your face gently; warm hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone, smiling at your head that immediately goes to lean into his touch, “said they couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout the way you looked in the dress you wore to last weeks party.”

Memories flash in your mind; the party your friends dragged you to, only complying because you were aware of who was taking part in hosting it— the pure, innocent image that hung over your head causing heads to turn the whole night— you could hear it, practically, the whispers and comments wondering what you were doing in such a place, all having speculated you the type to hate loud, rowdy environments like these.

They weren’t wrong; you barely lasted an hour in that dark, crowded place, finding yourself having a much better time in the back of Beomgyu’s car, pretty dress bunched at your hips and your makeup smudged by the time he dropped you off at your place, greedy hands refusing to let you go so easily, not one to put up much of a fight yourself; you’ve always been fond of waking up to the sight of Beomgyu first thing in the morning, anyway. 

Beomgyu’s eyes darken; you’re snapped out of your reverie by the feeling of blunt nails digging into your skin, your head tilted back as you’re forced to stare back at Beomgyu’s dangerous gaze.

“They also couldn’t stop talking ‘bout how bad they wanna fuck you,” he seethes, nails digging in deeper at the very thought; your eyes glisten and you shift restlessly on your knees, a shaky sigh escaping your lips at his tone— his thumb quickly reaches over to weigh down at your bottom lip, parting your lips slowly. 

“Would give anything to feel your mouth,” he recounts, thumb pushing into your mouth, a gentle pressure against your tongue as he surveys how easily you obey him; his brows knit together and his thumb hooks down against your tongue, opening your mouth roughly as he hovers over you; his face is inches away from yours as he speaks, his voice barely audible. “Said it’s such a shame they didn’t get their hands on you that night.”

Beomgyu could only sit back in his seat and listen; a spectator to it all, jaw clenched and arms crossed as he took in the way they spoke about you, salivating over you— the very reminder is enough to have his blood boiling. But, who was he to lash out at them? As far as the world was concerned, you were a pure, pretty girl that was expected to marry the son of an influential family friend. Beomgyu was never supposed to be in the picture.

“Wonder what everyone would think if they saw you now,” he mutters, voice patronizing and eyes filled with a sick arrogance as he stares down at you, “a good little slut on her knees for me.”

Without further warning, he spits; you flinch slightly at the action, a whine ripping through you as he straightens back up. Deft fingers smooth down your head, digging into your scalp and forcing your head forward— your hands are quick to undo his jeans, not needing another word from him for you to know what he wants. 

“Fuck,” Beomgyu breathes out, dazed at the sight of your eager actions, quickly undoing his jeans and getting to his leaking cock; your hand is warm and soft against him, and he feels himself twitching pathetically the moment you finally pull him free from his underwear; your pace is familiar and your lips are plush as they kiss at the tip of his cock, doe eyes glancing back up at him for approval.

“So perfect for me,” Beomgyu coos, caressing your cheeks and watching as you take him in your mouth slowly, lidded gaze glued onto the lewd scene like he’s determined to ingrain everything about this moment into his mind, “Know just what I like, such a good girl.”

His voice is soft and deep as he purrs out praise to you, hand wandering down until it’s placed at your throat curiously— you relax instinctively, jaw falling slack as he begins to thrust shallowly, whispered curses and rumbled groans making your thighs clench pitifully— but your hands simply fall down on your thighs, knowing that Beomgyu never likes it when you touch yourself like this. 

Your tearful yet determined gaze has Beomgyu’s pace stuttering— you just look so damn pretty under the dull lights of his room, the feminine and cute outfit you’ve put on today not helping at all; your makeup is already getting smudged from the tears that cling to your lashes and the drool that builds up at the corners of your mouth, taking everything Beomgyu gives you with nothing but a wide doe-eyed look. 

“Shit…” Beomgyu groans, his thrusts a lot rougher than they were moments ago; he’s getting closer, you can tell, your hands balling into fists on your thighs as you continue to let him fuck your mouth just how he likes— his hand is frantic to grab at the back of your head, fingers stinging at your scalp as he pulls you flush against his pelvis; he’s still, and you can feel him throbbing in your mouth— your throat stings and your eyes squeeze shut, hot tears running down your cheeks as you swallow instinctively; Beomgyu lets out a sharp moan at the feeling.

“D–Don’t— don’t… do that,” Beomgyu huffs out, hips grinding subconsciously against you, your lungs starting to burn as you place a frantic hand on his thigh— but Beomgyu pays no mind to you, clearly lost in his head as he lets out a shaky sigh; at the sudden feeling of you placing a slight pressure on him, he looks down at you curiously. 

“Hold it,” he tells you, lips twitching darkly as he feels you swallow again, body tensing as he simply ruts into your throat gently, “just a bit longer… you can take it baby.”

Your throat constricts around him, your eyes sting and you whine on his cock that continues to stuff your mouth— Beomgyu only pulls out once he feels you tapping weakly at his thigh, watching with low lidded eyes as you immediately begin to sputter and cough, a string of spit connected from his tip to your lips; he leans down to get a good look at you, watching you with a deceivingly soft smile as you try to regain your breath— his hand smoothes down your hair fondly, head cocking to the side as he prompts you to look at him. 

“Good?” he asks gently, watching you nod without hesitation; he chuckles, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before he takes your hands in his, pulling you up and beginning to walk you backwards toward his bed, “Good.”

As Beomgyu hovers over you, your he can’t help but find himself thinking about how fond he’s grown of this sight; of you, your breathless figures and your shiny eyes that catch his every movement, from his gaze that takes you in hungrily to his hands that slowly push the skirt of your dress up. 

“Such a pretty girl,” Beomgyu breathes out, your wide eyes watching as he shifts down to lay on his stomach, slow, warm hands running up and down your thighs— you squirm impatiently at the feeling, hips bucking and lips parting in a gasp as he places a slow kiss onto your clothed cunt; mouth lingering for a moment, smiling coyly at the wet patch that already seems to have formed— and he looks back up at you, fingers hooking under your panties to pull them down as he speaks. “All mine too, right?”

Without thinking, you nod.

“Wouldn’t let anyone else see this perfect body,” he murmurs, fingers beginning to wander up and down your slit, toying with your clit and watching the arousal leak out of you desperately, “It’s all for me.”

Beomgyu always seems to get like this, you think to yourself— his touches are teasing, needy, and his tongue is warm as he licks at your clit, fingers picking up where he left off so he can talk— he’s insatiable, possessive, and his words always make you clench a little tighter against him; you think he must feel the way you react to him, and that’s why he’s taken a liking to running his mouth so much. 

You couldn’t be any more incorrect, though— because as Beomgyu finally begins to use his mouth on you, tongue fucking your hole and nose pressing insatiably against your clit, he can only find himself thinking about how he’d like to spend the rest of his life like this— here, with you, listening to the way you keen and cry and bury your fingers in his hair, whining incoherently into the air. 

“I’m— I’m close,” you stutter, your hips bucking and chasing after Beomgyu’s mouth; he simply hums in response, eyes closed with bliss as he feels your thighs shake and close around his head— your voice is pretty and airy as you stutter out mindless praise, every moan of his name causing his cock to twitch and leak against your mattress, unable to stop the way he grinds against it stupidly. 

“R-right— Right there, oh my god, please don’t stop, please— coming, I’m coming, Beomgyu—!”

Your hips buck up and your back arches— your nails dig into his scalp and pull at his hair, shaky moans falling from your lips as your body tenses up and your orgasm washes over you. Beomgyu remains keen to it all— every sound you make, the way your body shakes and falls limp, he takes it all in, tongue still lapping hungrily at your arousal and hips still grinding into your mattress. 

He helps you ride it all out— your eyes prick with tears all the while, sensitivity sending shocks throughout your body as you feel him groan against your cunt, burying his head further in even after you’ve begun to whine that it’s too much; when his head emerges from between your legs, he looks just as dazed and out of breath as you— if not more so. 

“Gyu…” you mumble out, eyes drifting down to his chest that heaves, down to his stomach and noticing something that makes your eyes widen; Beomgyu follows your gaze, glancing down and looking away with red tinted ears.

“Can’t help it,” he huffs, not ashamed in the slightest as he hovers over you, cupping your face and leaning down to capture your lips, barely parting so he can speak, “you’re so hot when you cum.”

“Am I?” you ask softly, laughing at the immediate nod you get; your hand wanders down between your bodies, fingertips brushing over his cum-stained stomach and on his already hardening cock— your brows jump, and you smile. “Need me to clean you up?”

Beomgyu’s fervent shake of his head catches you by surprise; he’s never been one to deny the feeling of your mouth on him, so to say that this unexpected was an understatement.

“Just wanna be inside you,” he mumbles against your lips, the feeling of his cockhead grinding against your clit bringing about a sigh from both of you, “wanna see you cum again.”

The whine you let out at his words is enough to have him entering you slowly; dark eyes taking in every change of your expression, watching as your brows furrow at the stretch— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of the sight. 

No other girl has ever managed to do what you have; the man above you feels entirely enamored as he watches the way you cry and clench around his cock, gasping his name and clinging onto him desperately— you drive him crazy, and this only serves to prove it further. 

You were never supposed to leave such an impact on him. But now that you have, Beomgyu will do anything to make sure that you don’t escape his clutches.

[sleepynoons]

togame x afab!f!reader (characters aged up), nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: marathon sex, unprotected sex, oral (receiving), slight face riding, subdrop + dubcon (not intended but could be interpreted as so), one slap on the ass, cum eating, fingering, descriptions of violence + pain + blood

notes: the underground fighter/fight club!au that no one asked for. i've never seen the movie either, so literally, take everything – especially the fight scene in this one-shot – with a fucking atom of salt. i was inspired by this lovely art, and since the manga mentions that togame has limitless stamina... well, i kinda had to do something with that info...

YOU'D EXPECT your boyfriend to be tired out by now. in fact, if you were him, the two of you would have gone to bed hours ago, deep in slumber from the day’s excitement and exhaustion. instead, you’re splayed out on the bed, arms boneless next to you and mouth releasing tired whimpers, as your body rocks along with every deep thrust from jo.

his hands hold onto your hips tightly, pulling you back as he pushes forward, attempting to bury himself ever deeper into you. jo’s always been competitive, and paired with his methodical nature, he’s obsessed with trying to bring the two of you to new heights of sexual pleasure.

how did the two of you end up like this?

your brain’s hazy, clouded by the feeling of jo’s cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you and his teeth nipping and biting at your neck and shoulders. but you try to recall, as a means to hang on, to stay awake for just a little bit longer.

you were invited to watch jo fight for the first time. you weren’t particularly fond of supporting violence, but he had insisted it was something of a casual community event, and it was good for some extra cash and fun prizes. it was also an important part of his life, and since the two of you’ve been dating for a few months now, he wanted to bring you along to meet some of his friends.

when both of you were driving to the club, hosted in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, you asked, “aren’t fight clubs illegal?”

he shrugged and said, “number one rule of fight club: don’t talk about fight club.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “you already have.” jo chuckled and answered all the questions you had until the two of you arrived.

he guided you toward the entrance and showed you around, pointing out a few coolers for drinks, the bathroom, and the arena itself. several people were already there, catching up and placing bets on the night’s matches.

as you walked around, you overheard someone say, “all my money’s on togame.” you glanced at your boyfriend, but he made no indication that he had heard anything. 

after being introduced to a few of jo’s friends, it was almost time for the match-ups to start. he had explained to you earlier that he would have to leave you unaccompanied as all participants were required to prepare for their rounds in a large storage room, which was essentially a smaller, neighboring warehouse unit. you reassured him that you would be fine, and in the worst case, you would wait for him in the car.

the fights shortly began after your boyfriend left. you watched as challengers came and went, some throwing punches and kicks at each other while others with more experience used their wits and specific techniques. you cringed as fists collided with jaws and feet were swiped off the floor. but everyone, including the fighters, seemed to be enjoying themselves, so you remained in your seat.

after four matches, it was finally jo’s turn.

like all of the other fighters, jo was shirtless and barefoot. everyone in the audience seemed to roar for your boyfriend as he made his way into the ring. when he stepped into the light, you sucked in a deep breath, a little shocked and in awe.

you had never seen jo so excited about anything in his life.

the jo you knew ate so slow that all the food would be cold by the time he was half-finished, preferred to nap on a beach chair instead of swimming in the pool, and hosted gatherings with friends at home to avoid clubbing and drinking out. the person you’ve gotten to know in the past few months seemed to be a wholesome, harmless dork.

but this jo didn’t even spare you a glance. now that he was standing in the ring, he was laser-focused on his opponent, eyes wide with dilated pupils and a wild, animalistic glint in them. it became abundantly clear to everyone in the audience that, no matter what, jo would win.

apparently, jo had amassed quite a bit of a reputation for himself, hence why the fight club was so packed. the hollers and howls from the spectators escalated as jo exchanged blow after blow with his opponent. you watched as your boyfriend ducked a swing, shifted his balance and stepped on one of his opponent’s feet, effectively immobilizing them for a second, before using his shoulder to jab at and ram into the opponent’s solar plexus. the other stumbled back a bit before managing to land a heavy kick to jo’s side, and despite knowing it would leave a nasty bruise, jo didn’t flinch and instead lunged forward, landing a series of punches in quick succession to the other’s face. in a few moments, his opponent surrendered. you finally allowed yourself to breathe, only noticing then that you barely did throughout the fight.

as the referee held up jo’s arm to announce his victory, he finally looked around in search of you. your boyfriend must’ve noticed your stunned expression, so he cocked his head and discreetly nudged his chin towards the exit. intuition told you to wait for him outside.

as you rushed outside, jo easily caught up to you, spinning you around and pinning you to the car. you squeaked as he kissed you deeply, taking away the air you just managed to regain, and pressed his body against yours, the smell of sweat and rusting blood piquing your senses. when he broke away and you thought you had a moment to recollect yourself, he dove back in, sucking on your lips till they bruised and swelled and brushing his hands against your ear, knowing that the touch made you shudder and buckle at the knees. even when your legs gave way, he didn’t relent, and you had to gasp out a “it hurts!” for him to pull away. you watched as he let up, and when the two of you were face-to-face, that wild glint you saw earlier was still apparent in his eyes. but his usual lazy smile returned as he apologized and rubbed at the spot where the car door handle was digging into your skin.

you can’t seem to recall your return home, and even then, you only remember jo haphazardly unlocking his door as you clawed at his t-shirt to take it off. you were still oblivious then to what the night actually held in store.

you’re brought back to the present when jo’s arm suddenly wraps around the front of your shoulders and chest and heaves you up. now, your back is arced backwards, and the slight shift in angle causes you to mewl in pleasure. you’re starting to see white spots in your vision with the way his thick cock stretches your walls apart and pokes at new spots in you that you’ve never discovered yourself.

between pants, jo gulps and asks, “what are you thinking about? am i that bad?”

you want to object, but then he gives you a harsh slap to the ass cheek with his other hand that effectively silences you.

“princess, i won just for you, so give me some attention, yeah?”

you manage to choke out, “for me?” jo reaffirms by pulling almost all the way out, leaving only his tip inside you, and then thrusting himself in again heavily with force so strong you feel it rattle throughout your body. you’ve always known your boyfriend is strong, but today’s fight and sex have exceeded your expectations. you cry out shamelessly and cum unexpectedly that even jo releases a guttural moan when your pussy clamps down on him, and he also finishes.

you collapse onto the bed. faintly, you hear jo apologize, “shit, sorry, babe. didn’t mean to cum inside of you.” he helps you roll over so that you’re lying on your back, and picks your legs up to slide you fully onto the bed. you think it’s the end.

but suddenly, the bed dips at where your feet lie, and your legs are pried apart. jo lines firm kisses along your inner thighs, and you whimper at the feeling of his fingers playing with your folds. he slides the fingertip of his index finger up and down between your folds, causing you to jolt whenever he flicks at your clit.

“jo…,” you whisper. you rest your hands around your boyfriend’s neck, holding onto him in hopes of grounding yourself.

“how about one more, babe? just one more,” he pleads, transfixed at the sight of your messy, wet pussy. his want hasn’t been satiated. he needs to feel you one last time. he begs again, “i won’t put it in, i know you’re sore. i’m going to clean you up, alright?”

the feeling of his warm tongue against your hole erases all of your thoughts and concerns. he’s careful, aware that you’re spent and overstimulated, and he laps at the mixture of his and your cum spilling down and onto the sheets. when he feels your body tensing up, he pauses and presses feather-light kisses instead as he waits for you to relax once more. he then mouths at your folds, sucking one into his mouth and licking softly, then switching to the other. you’re both moaning at the sensation – you because every suckle brings you closer to your high and him because you taste, smell, and feel so sweet and delicious against his tongue. finally, he reaches the top and spreads apart your lower lips with two fingers, admiring the sight of your pert clit throbbing in anticipation and need.

you groan, eager and impatient, when jo stares for too long. you scratch at his undercut to get his attention and whine, “jo, hurry! want your mouth on me!”

obediently, he dips down and gingerly kisses your bud. you shiver at the light touch and cant your hips upward, urging him to continue. jo resumes, alternating between gentle pecks and quick sucks of your clit, which leaves you writhing and compounds your arousal. occasionally, he even hums, and the vibrations pinch at your bud and you yelp in surprise every time. you’re no longer holding onto his shoulders – you’re grabbing and tugging at the curls of your boyfriend’s hair and pressing your clit against his mouth and nose, desperate for release. jo supports your movements as his large, calloused hands cup your ass. lastly, jo adds in his tongue. the erratic, unpredictable switching between all of the different ways he can tease your oversensitive nub quickly sends you over, and as you scream and cum, your thoughts are fully consumed with the sensations of his mouth drinking up your release and his nose nudging against your clit to extend your climax. you’re wantonly rubbing yourself against jo, smearing your pussy messily against your boyfriend’s face, and your eyes roll back as he just takes it and laps at what he can.

“you’re so fucking good to me, princess,” he moans into your pussy. from his words, you feel one last crashing wave of your orgasm, pleasure overwhelming you for a little longer, before it begins to subside.

seeing that you’re coming down from your high, jo pulls away. he licks at his lips, savoring the remnants of your high, and watches as you begin to drift off. jo himself is finally feeling the drowsiness and settles next to you.

even as you’re losing consciousness, he whispers, “this is the best reward, baby.” you nuzzle into his warmth, mumble something incoherent, and fall asleep.

[milunalupin]

— it's late

sirius black x reader ★ 1k words

"Hey." His hair is a tangled mess, the locks going in opposite directions. His face is covered in dirt and scratches. He wears more cuts under his battered clothes. He has a worn expression on his face. Sirius looks tired.

You sat up with a jolt, having almost fallen asleep. At your door stood Sirius Black. The two of you weren't super close, but you had been a part of the Order for a while now. Also having been close with Remus for several years helped Sirius trust you a little quicker than normal. That said, most of your conversations were less than sober ones after everyone came back from their respective missions.

"Sirius? What are you doing here?"

He let out a small sigh, resting his head against the doorframe. He's never been the type to ask people for help.

"Needed some help patchin' up."

He lifted up his shirt, slightly revealing a long, deep cut on his side. It wasn't bleeding too much anymore, but was definitely still painful. He winced a little as he moved, his expression taut.

"No offense, but is Remus not available?" you shift in your bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

Sirius huffed out a breath through his nose, his jaw clenching. He didn't particularly want to bug Remus late at night either, but he hadn't been expecting you to refuse.

"Nah, he's sleeping. Sorry, I'll just go ask—"

"Hey- I'm sorry. I can do it. Here, sit down." you made space on your bed as you crouched down to get your kit from underneath.

A hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Despite your emerging friendship, he's always had a soft spot for your kindness. He pushed himself away from your door, reluctantly sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"You good at this kind of thing?" He questioned, his voice still coarse. He adjusted himself a little in his seat, pulling his shirt up halfway. Sirius watched intently as you rummaged through your kit, his eyes fixed on the way your nimble fingers quickly found your potions and gauze.

"I do happen to be a healer at St. Mungo's," the corners of your mouth quirked up, and small glimmer of confidence in your eyes as you began to clean the wounds. "So I'd like to think so."

"Shit, careful." He flinches slightly when you get to the deep cut on his side., his gaze shifting from your hands to your face, his eyes meeting yours.

"You're fine." you rolled your eyes playfully. "You're the one who should be careful if anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He huffed out with a slight smirk, watching you closely.

Sirius has always been fond of you, of course he has. Despite his intimidating exterior, he appreciated your gentle kindness whenever you both ran across each other. But of course, he'd never admit it. He winced slightly again when you pressed down a little harder on the cut on his side. "God, you tryin' to kill me doll?"

"It means you could be a little less reckless as when you're going on missions. Who's going to drink with me if you're dead?" you joked, wrapping the gauze gently around his wound.

He lets out a bark of a laugh, shaking his head lightly. He loved the way you didn't tiptoe around him everyone else did. Although the accusations of him being a spy for the Death Eaters eventually died, it was a breath of fresh air to be with someone who never treated him differently.

"Oi, I'm not gonna die. I'm too damn stubborn for that." He says in a teasing manner, enjoying the banter between the two of you. He continues to watch you as you finish wrapping the bandage around his torso, his eyes never leaving your face.

"You're right about that." you teased, lightly patting your work as you stand up. "Are you good to walk back to your room on your own or am I gonna have to find you a cane?"

Sirius chuckled at your comment, shaking his head. He slowly stood up from your bed, testing out how well he could move with the wrapped cut on his side. It still hurt, but he could ignore it.

"No, I'm good doll. Not too old to walk yet."

He smirked, his eyes meeting yours. There was something different in his gaze now. He looked at you with a hint of fondness. You wrung your hands together nervously, hoping that it was too dark for him to notice the growing blush on your face.

"Alright well, careful with your side. Goodnight Sirius."

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. He wanted to stay with you, to spend more time with your warm presence. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Can I ask you something real quick?"

"Yeah, what is it?" you asked, now sitting in bed once again.

Sirius took a deep breath, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets to look as nonchalant as possible. This wasn't easy for him.

"I... I was wondering if you'd want to join me on patrol with me tomorrow. Arthur's helping Molly out with the kids."

Your eyebrows stitched together, tilting your head to the side as you tried to remember. "Patrol? I don't recall seeing one scheduled for tomorrow."

"You're so right, there's not. I uh- I just wanted an excuse to spend some time with you," he ran a hand through his dark curls, letting out a dry laugh. "I'm not as good at this as I used to be, alright?"

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to hold back your grin, but your efforts were unsuccessful. "I suppose I could find some room in my very busy schedule."

His eyebrows shot up, a delighted smile growing on his face. "Yeah?"

The old floorboards creaked as you made your way to him. You nodded and leaned up to press a kiss to his stubbly cheek. "Go to sleep, Sirius."

"You're mental if you think I'm sleeping now, sweet girl."

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 7

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

You're breaking fast with Aunt Eliza as a footman brings in her letters. She lets out an excited yelp as she holds up the latest edition of Lady Whistledown.

You can't help but roll your eyes at the older woman. All of the Ton fall over their feet to read the anonymous author's "news". You're not overly fond of the things she's written about your friends, the Bridgertons, and a majority of the Ton.

You go back to your food, enjoying the fresh fruits that were brought in, "The strawberries are extra sweet today, Aunt Eliza. I think we shoul-"

Aunt Eliza abruptly stands, pressing her hand to her chest. Your brows furrow, "What has she written now?"

"You, dearest, but Benedict as well," you rise out of your seat with haste, rushing to the other side of the dining table and grabbing the latest Whistledown.

Your eyes quickly skim across the words and your heart drops as you read: -perhaps the second eldest never proposed to Miss L/N because he knew he could never provide for her as a second son.

Your jaw clenches as you lower the paper onto the table, "That horrid woman! Benedict is more than just a second son! He's kind, compassionate, charming, he adores his family, he is well-versed in the arts and-"

"Take pause, Y/N," your aunt urges as she places a hand on your shoulder.

You let out a deep breath and look to your aunt, "Do you think it wise if I visit him? I just want to make sure he is well."

Aunt Eliza thins her lips, "To be frank, I do not think it wise. It may jeopardize your marriage with Lord Montclair. You mustn't risk it."

You dejectedly sigh, "Yes, you're right. I suppose I will just write him a letter then." You no longer had an appetite anymore and ask your aunt if you may be excused. Seeing the state of you, she allows it and you immediately go to your room to write to Benedict.

__________________________

"A letter arrived for you, brother," Anthony announces as he steps into the study where Benedict is mindlessly staring out the window.

"Just set it on the table. I shall read it later," Benedict mumbles.

"It's from Y/N," the sound of your name immediately makes his head turn towards his brother.

He approaches Anthony and snatches the envelope out of his hand. He practically tears it open and quickly unfolds the letter:

Ben,

I just read Lady Whistledown. I hope you know that what she says can never be true. You have so much worth and not because you are a Bridgerton. You are a man that spreads kindness and warmth wherever he goes. You have so much love and passion for your family. You also possess an amazing talent in the arts that I have never seen before. Whoever you marry will be lucky to have you as their husband because I have no doubt in my mind that you will do anything and everything to make them happy.

Never mind what that horrible Whistledown has to say. She knows not of who you truly are.

Best,

Y/N

PS. I do miss your company terribly. Perhaps we may meet in our secret spot tonight?

Benedict places the letter on the desk and proceeds to start pacing along the study. Anthony immediately reads the letter and then looks up at his younger brother, "She did not mention about you being disappointed about the engagement. This is a good thing."

Benedict shakes his head, "Or a bad thing. That she does not return my affections and therefore, is ignoring them."

Anthony chooses to ignore his brother's dramatics, "I do hope you choose not to meet with her." Benedict stops his pacing and gives his brother a guilty look.

Anthony pinches the bridge of his nose, "She is engaged to Lord Montclair. If someone sees you-"

"No one will see us. I assure you, brother, when we say it is a secret spot, it truly is a secret spot." she swipes the letter from the desk and folds it back up, slipping it into his chest pocket...right over his heart.

_______________________________

Your day was exhausting. Aunt Eliza allowed you a few hours of solitude, however, she proceeded to drag you out the house to begin planning for your wedding. You spent almost two hours at the modiste picking out fabrics and styles for your trousseau. Your head was hurting and you didn't want to stare at a roll of fabric for the next month.

You also went over what food will be served at the luncheon after your wedding, the colors, etc.

You felt a bit somber as the day went on. You always imagined doing this with your mother when you were younger. It hurt your heart to think about all the things you two never had the chance to do. However, you are grateful for Aunt Eliza. She has stepped up to take up a parental role while your father wasted his days away at the men's club.

At dinner, you started to become nervous. It had been so long since you've spent time in Benedict's company. You knew you couldn't be seen together a lot around the Ton, so in secret was what you had to resort to.

Once you knew that everyone in the house was asleep, you slipped out and crept your way to a small pond that was surrounded by trees and hedges.

You and Benedict found it when you were children after you two pulled a prank on Anthony. It was only you two that knew of the place. All of the overgrown grass and trees deterred people from wanting to go through. But not you and Benedict.

Wrapped in your cloak and you dress from dinner, you weave your way through the overgrown branches and leaves, eventually leading to the pond. Benedict was already there waiting for you and you couldn't stop your heart from beating a little bit faster.

Benedict turns when he hears the leaves and branches breaking under your steps. He gives you that shy yet charming grin that makes many of the women of the Ton swoon...you included.

"Evening," he nods to you.

"Good evening and thank you for meeting me. You didn't have to."

He shrugs, "Might be the only way I get to see you now."

You wince, "I am sorry for pulling away. Surely, you understand, right? I mean," you chuckle, "All of the Ton, Whistledown included, thought we would end up together. If I continued to be in your company, it would have further hurt my chances of finding a husband. And I needed to make haste and-"

"Would it really be all that bad?"

"Would what exactly?"

Benedict shakes his head, "Nevermind."

"Ben," you place a hand on his arm, "Can we just...just pretend like I'm not engaged and be like how we were before this mess happened?"

Part of Benedict wants to say "no", that you two can never go back to how it was because he loves you and he's going to lose you in two week's time. But the other part of him, the part that always yearns for you, that thrives in your presence, the part that reminds him of when he was young and realized that he wanted to be around you forever, that part of him was louder than the former.

"Of course," he replies breathlessly and slips his hand into yours, pulling you towards the old tree where you two made makeshift swings.

You look at the ropes, now aged from time and weather, "Do you think they're safe?"

"I suppose we shall test them out," Benedict says as he goes to the swing that he designated as his, cautiously lowering himself onto the large branch that he used as the seat.

The wood creaks but doesn't snap under his weight. He pushes himself back and swings forward a few times until the branch snaps in two.

You gasp as Benedict falls to the ground with a thud, a surprised expression his face. You two stare at each other for a few seconds and then you burst into laughter.

You continue to laugh as you join him on the ground, "Are you alright?"

"A bruised ego and probably a bruised bum, but otherwise, I'm okay," he looks at you with an embarrassed look, but also a playful smile.

You giggle more, scooting closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder, "Good."

Benedict leans his head against yours, "Thank you for your letter."

"You're welcome. I wanted to see you to talk about it, but my aunt said it wouldn't be wise. Didn't want to potentially give any more reason for Lady Whistledown to write about you."

He shrugs, "It could have been worse."

You two sit in a comfortable silence, listening to the crickets chirp, the fish in the pond occasionally come to the surface and splash water around, and the sound of breathing between you two.

[girlokwhatever]

ʚɞ✧˖ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- end of beginning,, pt.2

part one

emily engstler x fem!ex!reader

you got ready in record time. the combination of your nerves and excitement together spurred you into a frenzy, encouraging you to bounce around your hotel room like you were being rushed.

emily said she’d pick you up soon, causing you to hurriedly make the finishing touches on your look tonight. there was that feeling still, deep down, that you wanted desperately to impress her.

the shared conversation you had echoed in your mind the moment the two of you departed. she asked you out to dinner. your mind teetered on the line between two ideas: she wanted closure so you two could be teammates without your history getting in the way, or, maybe she hasn’t moved on.

you think in some ways you have, but was that even true? if emily came to you with a confession of love that she never let go of, what would you do?

there wasn’t time to ponder the thought because your phone dinged. it was a simple message from emily telling you she’s here. ‘waiting for you outside’ she said, simple but enough to make your heart beat faster. you gathered your essentials and left the ghost-like hotel room to meet emily outside.

when you caught sight of her, leaning against her car, hands buried deep in her pockets and ankles crossed, you knew you were done for. she looked so beautiful, no less than you remember.

“hey, sorry, i know i’m a bit early.”

“it’s all good, i was ready anyway.”

she eyes you up and down, smiling to herself because she recognizes the bracelet you’re wearing. it’s one of the many she bought for you during your relationship. a token of her love for you.

“i was thinking we could get some hibachi, your hotel is kinda close.”

you nod, affirming it’s a pleasant choice. the car ride there is filled with simple conversation. you realize it’s the kind of conversation you’d have with someone you barely know, but then again, it’s been two years since you’ve seen emily.

she is different. but so are you.

“okay i’m gonna warn you, i’ve heard mixed reviews about this place.”

the two of you had been seated almost ten minutes ago and still haven’t been given drinks. you didn’t mind much but you could tell by her bouncing leg that emily was losing patience.

“and you didn’t feel like that was worth mentioning earlier?”

“well i remember you like hibachi and this is the only place i know of that serves it.”

she’s giving you a playful shrug as her fingers toy with the lanyard attached to her keys. you can’t help but let your eyes linger, watching her facial features shift slightly when she breaks eye contact or noticing the almost invisible shake in her hands. she seems much more reserved, a lot quieter than you know her to be.

“hey do you remember that time,” she smiles as she pauses to collect her thoughts, “when we got hibachi and the guy accidentally burnt you with the shrimp?”

“oh my god- yes. i still, to this day, have no clue how he managed to flip it on me instead of the stove.”

“dude that was classic. i mean, unfortunate for you but definitely funny.”

emily leans back against the wooden chair, relaxing into the seat. she was looking at you again and still smiling at the contagious happy memory. it was a popular story to tell during your relationship.

“yeah okay, but when i mention that time in the park when you fell on your face it’s not funny?”

“no. you threw the ball way too high. i don’t even know how you threw the football like that.”

“from practicing when we went to the beach that one time, remember? we’d throw the ball on the beach at night.”

all the recounts of priceless stories never to be forgotten makes your chest swell with fondness. to see the way emily smiles when talking about them warms your heart even more because she’s genuinely happy and you sense no resentment in her tone. she’s appreciative of the time she got to spend with you, even if it was short-lived.

“i don’t think i could ever forget that. it was the best vacation of my life for sure. it was so good, school had kinda been stressing me out and all so i was just happy to get away with you. i remember our first night there you wore that really pretty dress, the white one, and you asked me to take pictures of you at sunset but it was so windy and you kept getting mad. oh my gosh you were so mad. i still have the one picture where you’re pulling that piece of hair out of your mouth and you got so upset because i took the picture and sent it to myself. but you looked so beautiful anyway, it was good.”

you don’t say anything, too shocked to properly collect yourself. though you knew ex’s could be friends, you weren’t aware it was like this. you’re in awe of her really, feeling your cheeks grow warm at her compliments of your beauty.

your eyes stay trained on emily but she’s looking straight ahead at the wall, rummaging through all her memories containing you. you’re all she can think about in this moment and she’s not aware how obvious that simple fact is. she was too lost in thought, too busy missing her past to realize her word vomit.

“i remember too how an ocean wave knocked you over and you got a bunch of sand in your hair,” she leans back further, trying to submerge herself in the memory. “and i had to help you wash it out that night cause your arms were tired. then for the rest of the week you made me go in the ocean with you every time so i could help hold you up, i think i can still feel how tight you’d grip me when a wave came. and we’d always get burnt cause we’d float together for ages. but i didn’t even care because i was just happy to be there with you. nothing else mattered to me.”

the intensity of her words finally dawn on emily, immediately stiffening and clearing her throat. the air between you is thick and her confession weighs in the space between. you have no idea how to react or what you could possibly say to her, but you don’t have to because someone is finally asking what you want to drink.

the rest of dinner was tense with very few shared words. every now and then emily would comment on the quality of the food and you’d say nothing in return.

what could you say?

the ride back to your hotel was even worse. the soft hum of the radio and an occasional road bump was the only noise to fill your space. your eyes stayed glued on the sunset out the window the entire time, trying to remember how you ended up in this situation.

you thought back on everything. from the moment emily asked you to be her girlfriend, the moment you broke up with her, to earlier in the night when she asked you out to dinner. anecdotes of your shared past with her flooded your mind and refused to leave. it wasn’t until she parked at your hotel that they drained, leaving you with a teary waterline and regrets of past decisions. and current ones.

“thanks for taking me out tonight.”

“yeah, no problem.” silence lingered as you climbed out of her passenger seat but once you were about to shut the door she spoke up again, “i’m sorry.”

but it was too late and she wasn’t even sure if you heard her because you just kept walking. shaky breaths and silence consumed the walk back to your room, nothing in your mind but blame on yourself.

you should’ve said something, acknowledged her admission and reciprocated it. instead you sat there silently and visibly watched her shrink in on herself.

you were a coward.

you were a coward back then when you broke up with her, not able to face the uncertainty change would bring. it had only gotten worse. you realized that maybe some things don’t ever change.

the harsh opinion you harbored for yourself only made you feel worse. once you reached your room the tears began to fall one by one down your face, a pent-up sob escaping you from your spot on the bed.

emily was still parked outside, watching the time pass by. with each minute she debated on going inside, straight to your room. she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do or say when she got there, but she just wanted to see you again.

it had been thirteen minutes since you left. thirteen minutes since she saw you. thirteen minutes since the opportunity to win you over again had passed. thirteen minutes sitting in silence waiting for you to text her something, anything. but you never did.

she couldn’t leave knowing she didn’t try.

so she didn’t. she remembered seeing your key card, your floor and room written across it in bold lettering. that’s where she found herself now, standing on your floor gathering the courage to just knock.

finally she did, hearing you shuffle on the other side of the door. she could swear a drop of sweat was dripping down her forehead, bringing the back of her hand up to wipe at it.

“emily?”

“can i talk to you?” she was going to throw up, she was going to throw up, “please?”

“yeah.. are you okay?”

“are you?” emily looks at your face, makeup disrupted by wet streaks and eyes slightly red, red enough to be noticed. her tone came out harsher than she meant it to, pushing her way into the cold room. you don’t answer, instead busying yourself with shutting the door and turning the lights on.

“can i sit down?”

“go for it.”

she props herself up on the end of your bed, hands resting on her bouncing knees as you approach. you lean against the wall a few feet away as she begins to speak.

“i’m sorry for dinner, if it made you feel weird or anything. i think i should tell you, just get it out of the way, that i still think about you. all the time. and, like, i miss you. i know we’ve both probably changed and we’re different people now, i get it. but nothing, nothing, amounts to the way i felt with you. when i saw you today i felt like old me again. i want nothing more than to be like that again.” emily catches her breath, the jumbled confession coming so suddenly. “i went back to louisville last summer, just to see jeff and stuff. being there reminded me of you. i felt better there because i felt like part of you was there with me.”

she looks at you expectantly, waiting for some type of reaction. you just stare at her with an unreadable expression, tears dipping at the corners of your mouth and you bring a gentle hand up to wipe them away.

“do you ever..” she buries her head in her hands, dragging them down her face, “do you ever feel that way? tell me you don’t and i’ll leave if you want me to. i just have to know so that i can move on with my life.”

“emily..”

“it’s okay” she whispers, “it’ll be fine.”

she stands, tucking her flyaways behind her ear. your eyes connect with a silent message as you try to find the right words. you turn your head away from her direction because you feel like she’s peering into you, dissecting every thought and tearing you apart to find what she wants.

“i think about you all the time.”

it’s short but effective. emily’s heart skips a beat and so does yours, the gap between your bodies lessening.

“getting on the court with you again was so amazing and for that reason alone i’m happy to be here. i left louisville because i couldn’t do it without you. and i spent, oh my god, so many nights regretting my decision. i miss you emily. i’ve missed you for two years.”

neither of you have any words left as she surges toward you, pulling your body into hers. your lips meet in a passionate kiss to make up for lost time, finding peace within one another. emily holds the back of your head to press you as close as possible because she fears you’ll slip away again if she doesn’t. she finally has you back, nothing is taking that away from her.

you’re the first to pull away, placing your forehead against her own. your noses rest side by side, lips touching and fingers tangled in hair as you both pant from loss of breath. you’re so relieved that you’re almost convinced it can’t be real.

there’s no negative feelings plaguing either of you anymore, finally feeling complete.

the rest of the night is spent with tangled limbs and gentle kisses to pass the time. she never leaves your embrace and you don’t leave hers, feeling content right where you are.

you can finally wave goodbye to the end of your beginning with emily, ready to move into the next chapter with her.

ʚɞ✧˖ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

thank you @astroph1les for literally giving me all the motivation to do this

i hope no one forgot about pt.1 i know it’s been a minute 😬😬😬🤗

not spell checked yet but it will be later!!

pls enjoy!!!!!!!

[amuyyi]

recess .

synopsis; you were an ideal student. obedient, quiet, educated, and experienced. oh haewon was not. immature and childish, yet still above you academically and with everyone wrapped around her finger. everyone except you. you refuse to be reeled in by her natural charm and hope to make it out of this project alive, with or without her.

trope; non idol!haewon x fem!reader, sort of academic rivals to lovers, uni au, fluff,

wc; 5.1k

cw; some swearing

a/n; just wanted to write something a little silly :3 seeing haewon with kids is so </3 didnt proofread again and im zzzz

“… and Song y/n, your partner will be Oh Haewon.”

“WHAT?!” A pair of shrill voices rang out throughout the classroom, causing not only the students but also the professor to jump at the sudden sound. 

You wildly grip at the pen within your hand, the plastic material beneath your fingers creaking and threatening to break at any second. No. There's no way you’re paired up with her.

Oh Haewon, second year university student, business major, and the bane of your existence. 

She is loud, immature, annoying, always out partying, a chronic class-skipper, never pays attention during lectures, and never actually talks about the material during discussion. She claims that everything she does is a form of “networking,” but you don't buy it. It's all just an excuse to keep on slacking off. Despite this, almost everybody who came across Oh Haewon’s path practically fell in love with her at first sight. 

Everyone except you. 

The worst part about it all? Was the fact that she was seemingly the best performing student out of all the classes you two ended up taking together. She somehow managed to even beat you. No matter how good you do during exams or projects, or how long you dedicate to studying, Haewon always manages to get a higher score. You don’t think she even studies!

You, Song y/n, were a perfect student. Business major, second year, and valedictorian of your graduating high school class. You were quiet, but confident, you always turned your assignments in on time and dedicated many hours of rigorous study time for all of your classes. You held a paid internship on campus as well as an executive board position within a business club on campus and a volunteer organization as well. The odds were entirely in your favor.

Your horrified gaze slowly shifts towards the other girl from across the room, who sat in her seat with her hands dug deep within her dark bobbed hair. Seems like Haewon wasn't all too fond of the idea of being your partner either.

Timidly raising your hand, you try to speak up, try to fight for better treatment for you and your sanity, but the professors ice cold glare cuts you off as he speaks,

“As of now, partner assignments are final. If there are genuine issues between partners that hinder either one's ability to create an effective marketing strategy, come to me in a week. No sooner. I specifically hand picked your partners for a reason.” 

You silently slump back down into your seat, defeated, and you can hear a faint thump from across the classroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Haewon’s face buried within her desk. Must’ve slammed her head into the table at the news. You would have done the same if you cared as little for your image as Haewon did.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The sound of snickering and nails quickly tapping against a phone screen was all you could hear within the silent study room. Your eyebrow twitches irritably as you try to focus on the powerpoint slide in front of you, but the words on the screen seem to melt into one another as you hear the girl slam her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Unable to subdue your temper, you slam your laptop screen shut, the sound bouncing off the rooms walls as Haewon jumps within her seat, nearly dropping her phone as she stares at you with comically wide eyes. 

“Are you serious right now, Haewon? I haven’t even seen you actually add anything to the presentation since we got here.” 

The shorter girl rolls her eyes as she leans back in her chair, avoiding your gaze as she responds, “We already established who’s doing what, I can just do it later,” She shrugs, and the careless sight irritates you to no end. “You do the more technical stuff like research, budgeting, or whatever,  while I do the stuff that actually matters like target audience analysis and promotion– ‘cause I highly doubt you know how to actually charm potential investors with that stick up your a–”

Heat rapidly rushes to your face as you lunge forward across the table, hand slamming onto the table as you stick your finger in Haewon’s face to cut off her sentence. “That is just… So… Disgusting!! How can you even speak to me like that?!” 

You knew how to socialize and talk to people…! It's just that nobody ever wanted to stick around, that's all… And you preferred it that way, actually. Nobody can drag you down if you simply stick to your numbers and graphs, no people involved.

Haewon snickers at your response as you sit back down, rubbing your temples as you try to steady your breathing, a bit embarrassed that you allowed yourself to snap like that in front of her of all people..

“Look, if you were just going to do it all at home, why are you still here?” You try to speak in a neutral tone, but it was difficult to remain composed after your outburst. You can feel your eyebrow twitching once again as you speak.

A sinister smirk forms on her lips as she finally looks you in the eye. “‘cause I know it pisses you off.” 

You have to firmly bite the inside of your cheek to the point where you worry about drawing blood in order to hold yourself back from tackling this girl and beating her to a pulp right then and there. Taking a deep breath, you simply open your laptop and get back to organizing the format of the presentation in silence. Fine then. She can go on and be that way and be uncooperative. What did it matter to you? It seemed like you had to do most of the work, as always. From above the top of your laptop, you can spot Haewon rolling her eyes once again and resume texting whoever may be taking her attention away on the phone.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Unfortunately, Haewon was not as incapable as you expected her to be. She actually put some effort into her parts of the project, and they were actually pretty good. She knew exactly what people wanted, and even proposed ideas you never would have thought to be effective on your own. Haewon was a people’s person, and people with that kind of natural charm make it far within the world of business. Asking to change partners would prove inefficient for you.

You’d never tell her that to her face though. 

For the rest of the month, you and Haewon had come to a mutual agreement. Meet once a week on Wednesdays, around 2-4 PM at the business building on campus. Work on the project, then leave. More often than not, the two of you would work in silence, and you simply chose to not make any comments if she happened to be on her phone giggling to herself during the session. She wasn’t worth it. Besides, you had other things to worry about. Upcoming midterms, exec board event planning, your internship. It was a lot, but you could handle it as long as everything went according to your precise and calculated schedule.

Haewon had been pretty respectful of your established meeting time for the past three weeks, but of course, something had to come up when week four came around. Right when you had another major presentation for your business club to prepare for as well. You had been settled down into the study room you always rented out every Wednesday tapping away at your laptop when your phone vibrated. Unusual. You had do not disturb on. 

Oh Haewon [13:55] – hey

Oh Haewon [13:55] –  i wont be able to make it to the business building on time today

Oh Haewon [13:55] – i would ask to rain check but i know ull throw a fit bc i ruined ur schedule or sum

Oh Haewon [13:55]  – so can u just meet me at the child development lab instead?

… Child development laboratory? Your eyebrows knit together as you stare at the text on your screen. What could she possibly be doing there?

Come to think of it, you don’t really know much about Haewon to begin with. You tried to rack your brain for any information about your class partner outside of the obvious, and… Nothing. You knew nothing of her hobbies, interests, actual activity outside of her public outings. Not that she really mattered or interested you in the slightest, but the idea of simply being out of the loop with someone who played a major part in your weekly schedule made you a bit… Uncomfortable?

Sighing, you begin to pack up your belongings. She could have at least told you this before you already arrived and got settled in the private study room. That's what you get for being 30 minutes early to everything, you suppose. You now either have to move everything in your schedule back, or do a whole revamp of the entire week. You take a breath. It’ll be fine. 

If your memory serves you correctly (in which it always does) the next bus that arrives will take you near the lab. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you zip up your bag. So much for routine.

Your phone rings out one more time.

Oh Haewon [14:07] — skasdkfj apple kjj k

You’re convinced Oh Haewon has officially gone crazy.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

After hopping off the bus and walking in whatever direction Google Maps told you to go, you eventually found yourself at the doors of a building you’ve only ever occasionally passed by on walks. It had a mural of multiple colorful images along its walls, from a giant sun with a smiley face to different kinds of flowers and other doodles scribbled on the brick. Your eyes shift towards the side, where a fenced in play area lay. The sounds of multiple children laughing and screaming made a small smile form on your lips, and you couldn’t help but approach the edge of the fence to watch the young ones play.

You weren’t all too big on kids, more focused on your own academics and staying afloat while in university, but the sight of them still managed to soften your harsh demeanor. They were so innocent and pure, you sometimes wish you could go back in time and relive your childhood once more. You catch sight of a little girl chasing another, flower in hand. The both of them laughing excitedly before one screamed out, “let's go show Haewon-unnie!!” 

Haewon-unnie?

Cocking your head to the side in confusion, you watch as the pair of girls scamper towards the wall of the building, where a very preoccupied Haewon remains, squatting down while a horde of children literally climb all over her. One of the kids had a hold of her phone, and another was choking her, his arms wrapped around her neck in an attempt to dangle off of her like some sort of monkey bar. 

You would’ve laughed at the sight if it didn’t look like Haewon was on the brink of actually getting taken out by a mass of children.

“Haewon?” You call out.

The smothered girl’s head whips towards the direction of your voice, though she struggled to exactly spot you as one of the little girls started to cover her eyes very aggressively as she begged for a turn to play with Haewon.

“Y-Y/n?” She squeaks out, gently shaking the climbing kids off her as she meets you at the fence, one of the kids in her arms as the rest of the kids flock after her. It almost looked like she was a mother duck with her little ducklings. 

The child in her arms was holding a rolled up pillbug, and you find yourself incing away at the sight of the isopod, a bit deterred from bugs. “Hey,” Haewon simply greets, looking a bit exhausted, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the kids or the sight of you.

“Hey…” you greet back awkwardly, looking down at all of the kids by Haewons feet. You had no idea how old they were— honestly you had no idea how kids of specific ages were supposed to look like, but with how these kids were acting, you assumed they were possibly around kindergarten age? 

Each and every kid had something very interesting to say.

“Haewon-unnie, can you please play pretend with us? We need a dog!!”

“Haewon-noona, look at this dead mantis I found!!”

“Haewon-unnie, who's that?? She's reaaallllyy pretty !! Can she play with us?”

“Yeah yeah!! Can she? Huh??”

Haewons face immediately flushes red as she uses her free hand to cover one of the little girl’s face in its entirety as she goes, “Hyunjoo, shush!”

You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the smile forming on your lips, “So… Is this what's stopping you from being able to meet today?”

An exasperated sigh escapes Haewons lips as she nods, “I can't leave until one of the workers or researchers on shift turns up and it's been like an hour and nobody has shown.”

A small frown tugs on your lips as you listen to what Haewon has to say, watching as multiple children tug at the hem of her shirt from every direction, and one was even trying to untie her shoe. Haewon looked.. Helpless, albeit a bit desperate as well. None of this was your problem really, worst case scenario you just had to do Haewon’s half of the work that was meant to be completed today. Yet you still find yourself looking between the overwhelmed Haewon and the kids and feel a sense of familiarity towards the circumstance… You can't believe you were doing this. 

“I.. Can probably help you out until someone arrives.”

Haewons eyes widen as the kid in her arms tries to feed her the pillbug, in which she arches her head away as she speaks, “Really? I wont be messing up your perfectly punctual schedule you have for today? I bet you had to make some sacrifices to come here.” She teases near the end of her sentence, and you feel your face heating up once again.

“I don't….!” You exhale, “Have a schedule…” You lie through your gritted teeth before shaking your head, “Look, do you want my help or not? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to–”

“The project, yeah yeah I know. That's all it is with you, isn't it?”

Offended, you open your mouth to retort until Haewon opens up the fence gate to allow you in, immediately sending around two or three children your way, tugging at your hands, shirt, and pant legs as they guide you inside.

“Don’t be too rough with her, guys!”

For the next hour or so, you had learned a lot whilst working with the children at the lab.

For starters, you had learned that Hyunjoo had a crush on Jeonghyun last week, but now has a crush on Hwan after Jeonghyun accidentally spilt grape juice on her dress. Also, Bora and Somin are best friends, but only one of them got invited to Kiwoo’s birthday party on Saturday, so there's some unresolved tension in the air.

Alongside the lives of these children at the facility, you also learned a bit about Haewon. 

“Yeah, I spend my free time volunteering here when I don’t have class. There's not a lot of teachers here who research, and there's even less students majoring in child education or anywhere else in a similar, so I figured it’d be nice to help out while my schedule is still free,” Haewon says while sat down in a comically small chair, watching as a small girl pours muddy dirt water from a toy teapot into her even tinier toy teacup. 

“A lot of parents within the town need a place to drop their kids off while they work their usual nine to fives, and the children's education department needs all the help it can get. Sometimes I skip class to cover shifts just so these kids aren't alone… And sometimes I just skip because I’m hungover,” she chuckles.

You feel your heart melt a bit at Haewon’s words as you hold one end of a jump rope, aiding the two girls from before in their game. Haewon was actually… Sweet? At least with kids. They all seemed to naturally flock to her, and she had no problem talking and interacting with them in return. You on the other hand were a bit awkward with the kids, but it was alright because kids don’t think anything is awkward at this age. This wasn't the lazy, inconsiderate asshole you’ve been despising for the past year.

Staying silent, you nod as you simply listen to Haewon ramble on, sharing little tid bits and stories of her life you never would have heard otherwise.

“I tried to get my roommate, Jinsol, to join me one day and it went to actual shi– I mean, it went horribly,” Haewon corrected herself with a very indiscreet cough before continuing on, “They all ignored her! When she tried talking to them she made the kids cry. She didn't even do anything and they already didn't like her!” She laughs out as she makes her way to tend to another kid, a little boy latched onto her leg as she goofily limps her way across the playground.

“Still, I’m surprised they like you so much. You’re normally such a stick in the mud. Maybe the kids see something I don't.”

Furrowing your brows, you look back at Haewon, but she was already preoccupied trying to separate two boys that were trying to make beetles fight in a plastic bucket. See something she doesn't? What does she even mean by that?

The children had the both of you running around like headless chickens. A pair of girls wanted to play house with you two, and assigned you and Haewon as “mom” and “dad.” Needless to say, it was awkward, the first interactions between you and the shorter girl being rather stiff and tense– but you also learned that you are actually an incredible child actor once you got into it, and played the role of “mommy” perfectly in (all of) their eyes.  

Another pair of boys wanted to use you and Haewon for a piggy back ride race. Apparently, being cooped up inside studying all of the time did not make you the most fit person, and Haewon quite literally left you and your piggyback partner in the dust. You couldn’t be mad about it though, she the kid looked happy.

In due time, a fellow university student finally arrived, apologizing profusely for the tardiness as Haewon simply waves her off, insisting it wasn’t a big deal and she wore out the kids to make things easier for the next shift.

The pair of you wave goodbye to the kids as you close the fence gate behind you, dusting off your hands as Haewon lets out a sigh of relief, taking a moment to relax and stretch as a cool breeze picks up. You decide to close your eyes and take in the peace as well. You don't know when was the last time you really did anything “fun” or even let loose for that matter. The kids were a lot, but it was refreshing. Different.

The sound of Haewons stomach growling breaks the comforting silence, and you open your eyes, looking at the shorter girl with a quirked brow.

“Have you not eaten yet?”

“Ahah… No.” She sheepishly comments, “Normally I grab something to bite between my shift and our study sesh on Wednesday, but I’ve been helping out for hours by now.”

Unexpectedly, a wave of concern washes over you as she speaks. 

“It doesn’t matter though, let's find somewhere to finish up the last part of our project and we can finally leave each other alo–”

“You’re going to eat.” The words almost seemed foreign coming out of your mouth, or perhaps they felt that way because you were speaking them to Haewon.

Confused, Haewon stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “What?”

“You’re going to eat,” you repeat matter of factly, “You can't focus on the project if you’re hungry.” 

Quickly tapping into your phone and looking into google maps, you were quickly able to find a restaurant nearby for the two of you to dine at. 

“There's a restaurant about a 10 minute walk away from here. It closes at 7. We’re going.”

Before Haewon can even get a proper response out, you had already grabbed onto her wrist. You really didn’t want to think too hard about what you were doing… What are you even doing? Shaking your head, you drag her down the street, the bob haired girl nearly tripping on her own two feet before she falls in line next to you, just about as confused and unsure as you were.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The walk to the restaurant was… Fine. Albeit a bit awkward. Haewon wasn’t really expecting you to take her somewhere to do anything but study, and you weren't really expecting yourself to do that either. Apparently Haewon was the type to strike up conversation when things become awkward– unfortunately for the both of you, you were the complete opposite. So for the next 10 minutes, Haewon would make some off comment and you would simply mumble or hum in response.

Soon enough the two of you arrive at the restaurant and its definitely more on the high-end side. Dark yet warm mood lighting illuminated the interior, and the pair of you were seated near a quiet corner of the establishment, a charming bell shaped light hovering above the two of you as you blink. This setup was a bit more… Romantic, than expected; but if the food was as good as the place looked, you decide it was worth looking past.

You were handed menus as well as lemon water, and you peek over the paper to look at the girl across from you.

“Order whatever you want, I'll pay.”

A dry laugh escapes Haewons lips as she places the menu back down on the table, “oh no you’re not.”

Her response catches you off guard, and it 100% was shown in the contortions on your face. You were certain she would have jumped on the opportunity for free food. This girl was simply full of surprises, wasn't she?

“You helped me out today with the kids, I’m paying you back like the gentlewoman I am.” Haewon’s statement was firm, but you were stubborn.

“Oh yeah? With what money?”

“Hey!! I work for my money! You don't know me as well as you think you do, y/n.”

“Uh huh… so tell me then. Who is the true Oh Haewon?”

After placing your orders (you had gotten malatang while Haewon very stubbornly got herself an order of galbi and a strawberry lemonade) Haewon props her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands as she smirks, “what do you want to know?”

You guys then proceeded to spend the next two hours eating and chatting. Turns out Haewon wasn't all too bad company when she wasn’t existing to purely spite you. Haewon shared many interesting things about herself, like how she actually doesn’t like drinking at the endless networking parties she attends, or how she was actually fluent in spanish, or how she had no idea what she wanted to do the first year of college, but ended up transferring into business because it was the only thing that simply clicked for her. After some pressure, she even caved in, reluctantly admitting to be… Envious of you?

“Me??”

“Uh, yeah! I mean I do well in my classes and stuff, but you practically reek of academic perfection— it's actually kind of sickening,” she snorts, taking a bite into the meat on her plate as you roll your eyes. “You’re basically every professors favorite ideal student.”

“Me?? The favorite??” You scoff, “I thought you were the favorite! You act out and talk about anything in class and the professors still love you regardless! You get nearly perfect grades on every exam and have a million friends in every department, you don’t even have to try!”

“Seriously? No way. I know I'm funny and all, but I know the professors are disappointed I wasn't involved with any extracurriculars or anything. Probably think I'm wasted potential.”

“Well I know for sure they were concerned I have like, no friends or connections. That's wasted potential.” 

“Wait— do you think—“

A moment of realization hits both of you like a truck.

“Ohhhh… that's why professor Wang paired us up.”

“Yup.”

A short pause passes between the two before you snort, holding back a laugh as Haewon giggles, running a free hand through her hair as she shakes her head, “That's so dumb…”

Allowing a comfortable silence to pass, you finish up your food. It was good, and you kept your eyes out for the server to approach so you could pay. Haewon had excused herself to the bathroom, and you paid no mind to it as you absentmindedly scroll through your phone, remaining attentive to your surroundings as you do so. 

After a few minutes, Haewon returns, a very untrustworthy smile curled on her lips as you squint at the sight. What is she trying to get at?

“Alright, let's head out!”

You look up at Haewon from your seat in confusion, “but I didnt pa—“

That familiar smug grin was plastered on Haewon’s face again. “I paid for it already.”

“What?! How? When?” 

“I didn’t actually use the bathroom.” She snickers while leaning on the table, arms crossed in satisfaction.

Haewon seemed to have more manners than you expected as well, it seemed. She beat you at your own game, as she always seems to do. You’re left there shocked for what felt like a whole minute before you shake your head, chuckling dryly as you get out of your seat. 

“Okay Oh Haewon, you win this time. Let's go.”

Haewon wiggles her eyebrows teasingly as she follows you out the doors, “‘this time,’ huh? Are you implying there will be a second time?” 

You raise your hand to silence the shorter girl, and she can't help but laugh at the gesture. You bite your lip to hold back your own laughter, but a silent puff of air still manages to escape your feeble attempts.

Her eyes light up as she notices this. “Aha! I saw that! Come on now, y/n. Why are you holding back on me? What? Are you afraid to show any signs you might like me a little now?”

Under normal circumstances, you’d find yourself seething with rage at the other girl's comments. You’d think to yourself: who was she to poke fun at you? She's nothing but rude, childish, and every other insult above. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t be allowing yourself to laugh freely into the air, the sky above you and Haewon slowly morphing from blue to orange as you finally release all of the tension pent up within you. 

But this wasn’t a normal circumstance. You honestly had no idea how you even really ended up here to be honest. You were supposed to be at home by now, typing away at yet another project for some big club or company in your large sea of responsibilities. Instead, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk on the outskirts of campus with no other than Oh Haewon, your (now seemingly one sided) academic rival, laughing away, and actually thoroughly enjoying her company.

The pair of you find yourselves back at the lab, but the air was quiet this time, the stars above beginning to emerge from the blanket of night. You lean your back back on the fence, arms propped up behind you as you look back at Haewon as she stands in front of you. You weren't that much taller than her, maybe by an inch or so, but the fact that she had to crane her neck ever so slightly in order to make eye contact with you gave you a teeny tiny ego boost. 

You can’t believe you were smiling right now, and it was because of the girl in front of you. “Y’know, I thought I had you pegged, but turns out I was wrong. You’re not all too bad when you decide to be.”

Haewon grins playfully back at you, absentmindedly fiddling with her fingers as she nods, “You’re not as prissy and snobby as I thought you were either.”

You simply hum in response, taking a moment to look back up at the stars scattered throughout the sky. If you didn’t go out tonight, you would've missed all of this. You can't remember the last time you actually took a moment to enjoy the night. It was beautiful.

“So… About this ‘next time’ you mentioned…” 

Your gaze shifts back down to Haewon, and you notice she's inched closer. Smiling, you remain leaning on the fence, undeterred. “What about it?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, y/n. Are you saying you want to see me again even after this project is done?”

It's finally your turn to be smug. “And what if I am?”

Haewon is caught off guard. “...Then… I would also like that.”

Your smile softens as you take one of her hands in yours. Haewon’s hands were surprisingly small, and also quite soft. You slowly raise it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on the back of it, letting the feeling linger for a moment before pulling away, still holding her hand in yours as you look at Haewon. Her pale skin turns bright red for the second time today. A soft laugh leaves your lips at the sight. 

“Cute.”

Unfortunately, your romantic gestures are met with a punch to your side and a flustered groan as Haewon twirls around in an attempt to hide her face. “You really are annoying, you know that?!” She exclaims, already walking in the opposite direction as you chuckle. When was the last time you had fun like this?

“So. Same time next week?” You call out, and you’re very charmingly met with a childish middle finger stuck into the air. With that gesture alone, you already know she’ll make it to the next project meeting right on time.

[clubforfrogs]

Slip Ups (Pt.1?) Poly Marauders x reader

Authors Note: Hey! This is my first ever fic so it might not be the best. The reader is Gryffindor, and the Marauders are already in a relationship. Lmk if you want a part two!

It was no secret that the marauders were fond of their pranks. Magical slime that only they knew the spell to remove, changing the color of the Slytherins robes to a deep red and gold instead of the usual silver and green, it was all commonplace at Hogwarts. But what you couldn’t figure out was why their favorite pranks were the ones they pulled on you. 

Now their pranks towards you were never cruel. They were always small things like staring water balloon fights with you and your friends during the warmer months or them charming your shoes so that they grow one size bigger every time you jump (it had taken you a while to figure that one out). Even though their pranks were almost pitifully small, something about them just irked you. You weren’t particularly close, and you certainly hadn’t made enemies with them. You would have had to talk to them to do that! On top of all of this, the flirting was incessant.

You couldn’t make it through a single class without a “Is that a new perfume? You smell delicious,” (James) or a “Has anyone told you that you look absolutely ravishing today?” (Sirius)

It was certainly flattering, but it was also public. Didn’t they have any shame? You braced yourself as you walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts. As was to be expected you saw James, Sirius, and Remus talking loudly amongst themselves, stopping when you walked into the classroom. You made your way over to your regular seat, coincidentally right behind where they were standing.

Sirius grinned , “Did you somehow get even more gorgeous overnight? Give my poor heart a break L/n.” Remus and James both looked amused at Sirius’ remark. Remus replied to Sirius with a shocked expression, “You’re right,” he clutched his chest, “James catch me,” he said dramatically as he fell into James’ outstretched arms. You shook your head as a blush started to creep up your face. Luckily, the professor cleared his throat everyone took their seats as he began his lesson.

There was an open seat next to you, so James took it eagerly as Sirius and Remus sat in front of you. James leaned over and whispered in your ear, “We’re planning on sneaking around Hogwarts tonight, you wanna come?”

You turned to him with surprised look on your face. This was the first time any of them had ever invited you to break the rules with them, and you weren’t sure if that sounded like the smartest thing to do. You picked at your nails as you though about your answer. James, seeing the indecision on your face, spoke again, “C’mon… you’ll have a good time. We’d really like for you to join us.”

You studied James’ features. His sweet brown eyes showed nothing but sincerity, and to be truthful, you had made up your mind as soon as he offered. “Yeah, I suppose that could be fun,” you sighed out. James’ face immediately brightened and you couldn’t help but flush as you looked at him. Sirius had said you looked good today, but James. His smile was blindingly perfect. His dark curls laid on his head just messily enough for you to want to reach out and fix them. Or maybe you just wanted to run your fingers through his hair.

You had also noticed how good Remus and Sirius looked today. Remus with his sandy hair that laid considerably neater then James’, and eyes that you seemed to melt into entirely. Sirius had long, wavy black hair that made him look like a muggle rockstar. You were so lost in your thoughts about the boys around you that you didn’t realize you had been staring at James this entire time zoned out. He pushed your shoulder gently and whispered, “Where’d you go there?” “I was just,” you tried to find the right words, “lost in thought.” James looked at you teasingly, “Oh yeah? Because it looked an awful lot like you were checking us out.” His words made your eyes widen because of how close to the truth they were. You heard James chuckle as you turned away from him and started to scribble notes furiously as a distraction.

Once class ended, you decided to head off to the library. You had a free period, then lunch, so you knew you’d be able to study for the History of Magic exam you had to take tomorrow. You also knew, from overhearing the Marauder’s conversation, that Sirius and James planned on doing the same thing, while Remus had Herbology next. Not that you cared or anything…

Once you arrived at the library, you quickly found a quiet spot to do your work at. You were both annoyed and oddly pleased when you heard the loud voices of James and Sirius walk in not long after. They were loudly shushed by the librarian, causing them to quiet down. 

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and the faces of James and Sirius popped into your vision. “Hey there gorgeous, you mind if we work over here with you?” Sirius asked while already haphazardly throwing a piece of parchment and a few quills onto the table. You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Yeah that’s fine. You guys studying for History of Magic too?”

James nodded his head. “Yeah, we wouldn’t usually do this until the class before but Remus said that he’d help us with the Potions essay if we did.” You hummed in acknowledgment as you opened up your textbook and began reviewing the material. Unfortunately for you, James and Sirius quickly grew bored of their textbooks and decided that you were far more interesting.

“Y/nnnn,” Sirius dragged your name out. You turned towards him and were met with the desperate eyes of both him and James. “Will you help us? We’re confused and you’re just so smart and beautiful and intelligent and kind and-“ 

You cut Sirius off, “Ok, ok. I’ll help you whiners out.” James pouted at your words which you ignored in favor of turning your book a few pages back. 

“Let’s start with chapter 4, it’s probably the easiest material so we can work our way up to chapters 5 and 6 after this. Are there any parts in particular you don’t get?” James perked up, “Yeah, in the part about The Goblin Rebellion of 1832, it says that the Goblins refused to work for wizards until wizards treated them better. But in the next paragraph, it says the rebelled because it’s ‘simply in their nature.’ Doesn’t that kind of conflict?” 

You were surprised at how into studying James was, but welcomed it openly. “I had to look into that to. Turns out, this book was cowritten. One of the authors is an absolute twat who thinks goblins are some kind of wild beasts, and the other’s a bit more rational. Just ignore anything that seems super anti-goblin.” “That makes sense, thank you,” James smiled widely at you, making your breath catch for a second. You mumbled  a “No problem,” and continued working. You could see James and Sirius exchanging a smug look at that.

More time passed, around an half an hour if you had to guess. The two boys worked relatively hard, and made a lot of progress. But now seemed as if they had reached their limit. You felt a finger poke you in the ribs. You jump back. “Oi, what’s your problem?” You ask a startled looking Sirius. He quickly regains his composure and looks at you. “Can we take a break? It’s been sooo long.” You give him and incredulous look, “It hasn’t been an hour yet, let’s just work a little longer.” The boys look at you with equally begging looks. “Please, Y/n? We just need a little study break.” James whined. “Nope,” you said, popping the ‘P’. 

In response to your refusal, James and Sirius decided it’d be most effective to start alternating saying your name in increasing annoying voices. It didn’t take long for this to make your head pound, so you drew your wand and cast a quick muffliato spell on yourself, effectively making it impossible for you to hear the boys. This didn’t help you for long, as they realized what happened, and moved to start lightly poking you. You shot each boy a dirty look before undoing the muffliato charm. You were about to give them an earful before you heard a voice from behind you, “You wankers leave Y/n alone.” Remus came into view and gently smacked James and Sirius on the backs of their heads. They both fake winced and rubbed their heads. You were grateful for Remus, but you realized something, “Remus, shouldn’t you be in Herbology still? It doesn’t get over for another 15 minutes at least.” It occurred to Remus that you had memorized a bit of his schedule. He was definitely saving that information for later. “Yeah, some Slytherins thought it’d be fun to mess around with a venomous tentacula. One of them had to be taken to Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout was so shaken that she just dismissed the rest of us.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “Yikes, I hope they’re alright.” “Serves that idiot right.” You and Sirius spoke at the same time. You gave him a scolding look and he just crossed his arms like an angry toddler. Remus chuckled at your guys’ antics. “Anyways, have you three managed to get any work done? Ya know, before you decided to start annoying Y/n,” Remus asked. James nodded, “That’s why we were ‘annoying’ her. We finished studying!” Remus raised an eyebrow at James. “Ok, what goblin business was the first to shut down as a result of the revolution?” James thought for a second before answering, “Gringotts!” Remus clapped quietly, “I’m impressed, Sirius, did you study just as hard?” “You know I did,” he winked at Remus. You saw a faint dusting of pink on Remus’ cheeks after the wink, causing Sirius to smirk. Remus was saved by the lunch bell.

All of the boys stood up, but you remained seated, ready to continue working on a paper assigned earlier in the week. “You coming to lunch, love?” You glanced over, realizing Remus’ words were directed at you. “Can’t, I’ve got to finish up my potions essay.” Sirius scoffed, “James and I already told you Remus was helping us with that. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you as well. Besides, it’s not due for another week!” You looked at them uncertainly. Before today, you had only spoken to them during class and when they pulled their occasional pranks on you. This was new territory. But you weren’t going to refuse the ever-growing attention they were paying to you, so you slowly stood up. “Yeah I suppose I’m in need of a break anyways.” James gave a cheer and slung his arm around your shoulder. None of the boys missed how you blushed as he did so.

When you arrived at the Great Hall, you went to sit over with your normal group of friends. Sure the Marauders had made sure you came to lunch, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome but inviting yourself to sit with them. Before you could take more then a few steps however, a hand caught your wrist. You looked to see James holding your arm, “Aren’t you gonna come sit with us?” You were surprised to see both Sirius and Remus looking so intently at you, awaiting your next words. “Uh, are you sure? I’m really not trying to overstep my bounds.” Sirius shook his head as if you had said something utterly ridiculous. “Overstepping? Please,” he ushered you over to their usual spot and sat you down, James taking the spot to your left. Remus sat across from you, Sirius sitting to his right. 

You had absolutely no idea what to say. Before today, the only interaction you’d had with the marauders was their constant flirting, and the occasional trips to Hogsmeade, and those trips were always with a bigger group. Luckily, the boys didn’t have any awkwardness in starting a conversation. “Lads, I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I think I may be a genius,” Sirius started. You and Remus shared a What is he on about? look as Sirius rambled about a new prank he wanted to pull on the Slytherins. 

“Ok, let me get this straight. You want to sneak into the snake pit, and charm their dormitory doors to open only if they say, ‘I’m a lousy, big footed git’?” You said in a disbelieving tone. “This seems a bit immature, even for you guys.” Sirius gave a mockingly offended look as James clutched his pearls and cried, “Not true!” You still believed the prank to be incredibly stupid, but also realized that Sirius’ silly rant had easily diffused any awkwardness you felt before. Merlin, Sirius was so good at easing your worries and breaking tension. And James made you laugh so easily. Remus made you comfortable and calmed you down and-

You suddenly felt a foot nudge you underneath the table. You looked up to see Remus giving you a confused glance. “Are you alright. You looked a bit lost in thought.” You nodded and played with the food on your plate to avoid any further questions. That, of course, didn’t work. “Were you thinking about someone special?” Sirius questioned while wiggling his eyebrows. James quickly perked up at that, “You did that during defense against the dark arts too!”

Shit. This was not how the hottest couple at Hogwarts was going to find out about your insane crush on all three of them. You didn’t think you could handle the embarrassment of being rejected not once, not twice, but three times in one day. In order to preserve your pride and avoid spilling your secret, you quickly stood up from the table while making some shitty excuse about how you suddenly weren’t feeling well. You rushed to the Gryffindor common room without so much as a glance back at their table. You made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady without hearing any footsteps behind you. Once inside the common room, you rushed into your dorm and decided that you would lay there for the rest of eternity, simple enough, right? Ok maybe that was a bit dramatic, but you really didn’t want to risk running into one of the boys and accidentally confessing, and ruining and chance of a friendship you had with them.

After what felt like hours of laying on your bed, you decided to risk going out to the common room and reading a book by the fire. It was dangerous of course, as the marauders could be lurking anywhere, but the prospect of being cozy while reading was simply to desirable to pass up. When you got the the couches, you quickly plopped down and made yourself comfortable. You opened your book, and started to read. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been reading for, but a long while later, you heard the oh so familiar voices of James, Sirius, and Remus walk down the stairs from their dormitory. You froze on the couch, hoping that they would simply waltz through the room and leave. They wouldn’t be able to see you if you stayed completely still right? You were positive your theory was going to be proven correct when something seemed to catch Remus’ attention. He turned and looked directly where you were sitting. “Y/n? What are you still doing up, we tried knocking on your dorm door just now, but we assumed you’d forgotten about our plans and fell asleep.” Oh no. You had forgotten James’ invitation to sneak around with them today. Now you were going to be with the boys all night. What could go wrong?

[aysegust]

THINGS LEFT BURIED. (Mike Ross x Reader)

A/N: Hello beautiful people, this was requested so I hope you’ll like this… It took time to write this because I was very busy with my studies. English isn’t my first language, so there might be mistakes… :)

Word Count: 2.739

Warnings: No use of Y/N, jealous reader, none Mike is just so puppy..

Request: Hello!! everything is fine? If you're taking requests, could you write something for Mike Ross where the lady is jealous of him and Rachel?

He was too gentle. Well, Mike Ross was too gentle whenever he was around you. He would bring you coffee, helps you when you struggle or shows his gratitude whenever you bring him something he needs.

You two worked great together… a good pair. Even buddies. Your desks were next to each other in the bullpen. You worked late nights together if Jessica needed something, or Harvey etc.

You were so drawn to him. You could feel when he entered the bullpen, you were so aware of his presence… it drove you mad.

But what you could say? He was just so sweet. Cares his loved ones. He cared about you too. You two joked about anything. How Louis is like in love with Harvey or how you and he joked about past experiences.

It was good to have someone in the firm, that actually cared about your wellbeing. Surely, you had friends in the firm but since you were an associate, there were always rivalries. However it was different with Mike. Of course, since he was Harvey’s associate, it had its perks but you two made out as friends.

It didn’t slip from his attention that you were also fond of movies which he loved to quote on. You teased him lightly from time to time, which he felt flustered.

The worse part is that you were, uncontrollably, falling in love with him. As each day passed, you heard his laugh, his jokes or his caring nature, you found yourself falling in love with the very man you shouldn’t. Your friend Mike. Mike Ross… the guy that had a photographic memory.

You walked to the bullpen that day, as Louis asked your presence earlier in the morning. Said he wanted you to work on a file for him... Which you happily obliged to.

You began to research for the file, as you were deep in the work, seated in the library, alone at the eleven p.m. you didn’t realize because you were wearing headphones- listening to something soft rock, Rachel and Mike entered inside the library. With boxes in their hands. They put it in the nearest desk, as Rachel giggled at Mike. You slowly lowered the headphones as you saw the scene unfold.

Mike was looking at her too sweetly. It made your stomach turn, as he turned his head to left and glanced around, he saw you. His smirk widened as he waved a hand to you. As you found yourself returning the gesture, Rachel’s head turned to you as she smiled softly.

Well, she was beautiful. Of course, she was kind. Intelligent and very caring. She looked good next to him, when the thought crossed your mind you wanted to throw up.

Green wasn’t your best color, envy didn’t suit you. But in that night, when you turned your attention back to your work, your face fell.

It was slightly a torture, when you heard their playful banter. Since you were wearing headphones, they talked freely. The missing part was that you were eavesdropping. Which you hated yourself for it.

They talked casually, very smoothly. Light jokes went on, while they talked about what to do about the case. You wanted the cause of his chuckle, not her.

Next day when you entered the firm, you had a bad morning. You were running late, you forgot your car keys inside and your stomach growled because of skipping breakfast. It was horrible.

But you secretly hoped to see him. His ocean blue eyes, his warm smile and sassy comments…You needed it.

Just when you turned around the corner and was about to head to bullpen, you saw Rachel’s office. You couldn’t help but your gaze fell on it. Rachel was inside, she leaned her back on her desk, as Mike was in front of her, talking about something whilst they stood too close for their own good. You let out a wary sigh as you stepped up and walked to bullpen.

You were seated in your desk, as you opened the computer as you pulled the files out of your bag as you registered his presence. He walked to your desk, as he slowly sat on the edge of your desk like he owned it or something. “Hey,” He said lightly but you didn’t match his gaze.

“You alright? You look terrible.” He commented playfully as you realized he tried to lighten up you, but it backfired. “I’m busy.” Your voice sounded too dismissive, too cold which caught him off guard. You couldn’t look at his frowned face, his light brown brows furrowed slightly as he tried to understand what was wrong.

Then Louis called his name. “I’ll see you later,” He said as he got up from your desk, you let out a sigh. You felt guilty for a moment as you watched his back. His retreating figure.

-

It was an exhausting day. Louis let out his frustration out of you, you didn’t eat any lunch because of paperworks also, you went to court to give Louis the arrangement papers. It was tiring, exhausting.

You were too tired to even deal with Mike. As you saw his figure entering the bullpen, he watched you quietly. “What is it?” You asked quietly without lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. He hesitated then he spoke. “Well, I was afraid that if I open my mouth, you would punch my face.” As he said bluntly, you couldn’t help but smirked at his words.

Then you lifted your face and met his gaze. He looked tired too. “I didn’t want to sound mean today.” You apologized lightly as he smiled. “It is okay, heard Louis gave you a hard time today.” He said softly as he stepped closer to you.

Suddenly you felt his cologne too much. It was too intoxicating, too intense which you leaned back in your chair. You two were the only ones in the bullpen so you could talk freely. As you nodded silently, he rolled his eyes. “He is a prick,” Mike said defensively. It earned a chuckle from you… “He is emotional.” You commented firmly.

As you slowly got up, your stomach growled which you felt your cheeks heated up immediately. Mike noticed it. “Shit, when’s the last time you eat?” He asked curiously as a slight concern etched onto his face. You brushed it off immediately, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, I couldn’t eat much today.”

Mike looked at you with worry. It was cute actually. The way concern was etched into his face, it was visible as how his eyes crinkled, his brows furrowed and his thin lips crossed into a thin line… “Come on, let’s grab a dinner.” He said quickly as he got up. You were left speechless for a second as you registered what he said.

Of course, it was a friendly gesture. Nothing more… Oh but how you wanted it so badly to be more than friendly… You found yourself agreeing on it, however the universe had other plans.

Rachel entered the bullpen as she greeted you two. She said she found a report Mike was asking for, so with an apologetic response, Mike followed after Rachel.

Great, it was off.

A week passed after that. You and Mike could barely spoke. He was with Harvey most of the time and you were with Louis and other associates. You went into courts under Louis’s supervision. Mike was working on a Coastal Motors case with Harvey…

But it was brought to your attention that how he began to closer with Rachel. You didn’t like it… The lingering touches on Rachel’s arm, whispering something funny to Rachel. You hated it.

You missed him and you haven’t talk to him. It was unfair. How he seemed like he forgot about you. You felt invisible as you felt your heart ached at the thought.

So you ignored it till you explode. You just ignored it. The feelings, fear of rejection, insecurity, jealousy and Mike. You ignored everything.

He saw it.

You didn’t realize it. However, Mike was a good observer. You didn’t know how he watched you. How his gaze lingered on you for a few more minutes. How his frown softened when you pass by. But he didn’t understand. Why were you so distant? Did he do something wrong? Did he offend you?

You were avoiding him and he knew it. God, he hated it. The way you pulled your gaze away from him too quickly or when he walks into the bullpen, you grab files and walked out of the bullpen… He was trying to understand what was wrong but you gave no clues.

So he went to Rachel. He asked her about you. He asked her about how you seemed distant and dismissive. He wanted to reach you by himself but he felt anxious. So, he just asked Rachel if she knew something he didn’t. It was no luck, he learned nothing.

Then one day, when he was in Rachel’s office, as she leaned to her desk- he was in front of her because he didn’t want anyone to hear it. They talked about you. Rachel hinted Mike that maybe you had a crush on him.

When he heard Rachel’s implication, his heart beat too fast. From the first day, he asked your admission for a case and you two worked together, he felt bubbly inside. You were mesmerizing, sweet and unique. Your taste in movies, your interests was too similar to his. He grew close to you too quick.

He loved to see your face lighten up. He loved to bring you coffee in the mornings whenever he can. He adored your smile so he always made jokes around you to see your smile. It was addictive. You were so warm, you felt so close and safe. He loved to be in your zone. He felt safe and happy.

He felt like himself. Not a fraud. He felt like Mike, sweet Mike.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that he had feelings for you. More than friendship. He craved your touch, your attention.

But when you ignored him, avoided his presence… his heart ached. Like you were putting a knife on his chest. So, he asked Rachel. He needed her advice.

Mike walked out on the firm as he intended to grab a quick lunch at somewhere close to firm. When he saw you outside, as you were walking alone while you had your phone in hand, he approached to you.

Then as you were walking to cross the street, you didn’t see the car that was moving on the road. You heard your name called loudly and as you lifted your head up in confusion, you felt pair of hands grabbed you by your waist.

As the hands pulled you back to the sidewalk, you felt shocked and worried. When you turned your head away, you saw Mike. He saved you from getting hit by a car. When you looked at his face, you saw how worried and tense he looked. “Are you alright?” As he asked you worryingly, you nodded in shock. “I’m okay, I’m okay I-“ You registered too late about what was going to happen. You felt shiver ran down your spine.

“You should’ve been careful, you could’ve been hit by a-“ When you heard Mike’s tense voice, you interrupted him. “It is okay, nothing happened.” You tried to reassure him but he felt too worried for you.

You or neither he acknowledged that he was still holding your hips. He was holding you tightly as if his hold loosens he felt afraid that you might slip away. As the shock passed over, you felt his grip on your waist.

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you looked at him. Then he realized it too, he immediately let go of his grip on your hips as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry-“ He said softly.

Your heart raced too fast for its own good. “It is alright,” You managed to say. “Uh,” Mike opened his mouth as he wanted to say something but he shut it off immediately. You looked at him confusedly as you waited for him to speak in anticipation.

He closed his eyes briefly as he paused. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked at you nervously. “Why are you avoiding me?” He asked the question you didn’t want to hear. You opened your mouth to protest but he quickly intervened. “No, you are ignoring me and I want to know why.” He was stubborn for his own good.

“Mike, I- I don’t-“ As you began to say it, he interrupted it again. “Bullshit, you know it.” His expression looked hurt, if you saw it correctly, he looked sad. You felt your stomach twist as a wave of guilt washed over you. It was overwhelming.

“I was just-“ You found yourself saying the words but you paused. You couldn’t continue your sentence. It was too risky, you couldn’t lose him. It would be painful. However, as you met his eyes, all of your worries died down for a moment. He looked at you deeply, curiously.

“I was jealous, okay?” You lashed out on him. You didn’t intend to but his deep gaze, his interaction with Rachel it was confusing you. It was messing with your head.

He frowned slightly as he tried to register what you said. Why were you jealous? Why? “I don’t…” As he began to say it, you interrupted him this time. “You don’t understand do you?” You said as you stepped back. Wanting to create some distance with him, however it failed as he took a step forward to you. “Tell me, why?” He asked curiously.

“What’s up between you and Rachel? You two seemed too close.” You said with an underlying allusion in your voice. His eyes widened as he heard your words. He felt confused. “What?” Then he realized why you acted like this. A huge grin plastered on his face as he looked at you sweetly.

You felt annoyed and confused as he looked at you sweetly. “Why are you looking happy?” You asked with a frown on your face. Then he took another step as the distance between you faded. He was so close.

He was so close to you. You could hear his scent faintly. When he lifted your chin up, you felt shocked. “Let me tell you something,” He began as you listened him. Your heart was basically beating in your throat as you felt your mouth dry. “Rachel and I… there is nothing between us.” He said quietly.

“There isn’t?” You gulped as you asked him. Your voice faltered as he leaned to you. “No, there isn’t.” He said firmly. “Mike… I-“ You paused briefly as you searched his eyes for anything containing lie. But you found none, he was telling the truth.

“I like you.” You spilled it out then. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. No matter what, you wanted him to hear it. As he registered your words, a huge smile formed on his lips. “You like me?” He asked softly and when you nodded it, he didn’t waste another time to connect your lips in a tender kiss.

When you felt his lips on yours, it felt so sweet. He was very gentle, his lips tasted like heaven. You were too lost in it. However you pulled away slightly as you felt breathless, you panted and you watched him. His cheeks were flushed. “I like you too, sweetheart. More than you can imagine.”

As you heard his words, this time, you kissed his lips. It was more passionate than the first kiss. It was intense and deep. He kissed you with equal fervor. It felt amazing. You felt like fireworks were flying inside your stomach as his lips moved with yours…

After you two parted away, he grabbed your waist and gently pulled you closer to himself, as he chuckled lightly. “You are gorgeous.” He said softly.

As you were in his arms, secured by his touch, you felt all bubbly inside. It felt too good to be true. But there it was, he was in front of you, kissing your lips softly. “So, you wanna grab a lunch?” He said enthusiastically. “Oh, I would love to,” You replied with the same sheepishness.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

The not so Princely Prince Charming

A/n: @d3vilstower thank you sm for requesting this, this was such a good idea and I hope I was able to write it in a satisfying way!

Warnings: Angst, yelling, smoking, smut, fingering(f receiving), oral(f receiving), creampie, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You met Slash in high school. He was an introvert, always keeping to himself at the back of the class, though he was also a trouble maker. He’d fall asleep in class, his grades were dogshit and he respected pretty much no one and only had a few friends he barely hung around. Yet you saw something so indescribably perfect about him.

Since you were known as a good kid, getting good grades, being nice to everyone, you were often sat next to the ‘bad’ kids in hopes that your good behaviour would rub off on them. Of course this never worked but if it got you a seat next to Slash you were more than happy to comply.

Whenever he fell asleep you put your sweater under his head to use as a pillow. You’d write extra notes and give them to him, whether he used them or not didn’t matter, you just wanted a reason to talk to him.

Occasionally the teacher would call on him when he was sleeping in an attempt to embarrass him. He’d wake up all groggy, you’d write the answer on a slip of paper and discreetly show it to him. This infuriated the teachers, neither you nor Slash cared.

Slowly he grew fond of you. Not in the sense that he was starting to find you attractive, he’d just never had someone treat him like that and the initial lust was morphing to a deeper connection.

He started bringing you snacks and he’d keep track of your favourite ones so he’d remember which ones to grab next time he was out.

Then he started sticking around you between classes, since he preferred to be alone he managed to get you away from your friends so it could just be you two. It didn’t always work and sometimes you’d drag him to sit at a table and actually eat with you and your friends rather than smoke out by the benches in the field.

It was a codependence thing at first. He wasn’t good at being around people and you were, the extrovert adopts the introvert situation.

Your friends weren’t all too happy to be sharing a table with Slash, with his big hair and crunchy clothes. He just didn’t fit in and they didn’t think he was the best for you, and they told you so to your face in front of him.

You always brushed them off, saying something about how you were just friends. And you kept that line when they called you to talk about it while Slash was between your thighs, struggling to hold back moans as he ate you out like a man starved.

Slash only came over when you were home alone because your parents were conservative, they hated the whole rock movement and sheltered you from it as best they could. Luckily, Slash showed you every part of it, even educating you on parts that he didn’t particularly care for because he didn’t want to shelter you either.

While you didn’t tell your parents who you were dating, you did tell them you met a guy. Of course they wanted to meet him right away and get to know him, make sure he was the right match for you, or rather them.

You knew they’d never accept him but you wanted him to meet your parents. Slash had helped you distance yourself from the lifestyle your parents had raised you in but deep down you still felt the need to have their approval. So you planned a dinner.

You brought Slash over after school, it took some convincing since he didn’t care too much to meet your parents but now you were at your front door, holding his hand tightly as you rang the doorbell for your parents to answer.

Your dad opened the door with a smile that quickly faded as he eyed the man beside you. “And this is him?” He asked, looking to you for confirmation. Slash also looked at you with an expression that just read ‘I told you so’. You ignored him.

“Yes, dad, this is my boyfriend.” You said with a bright smile. Your dad let out a heavy sigh and grudgingly reached his hand out for Slash to shake.

“Well, I’m glad that I’m meeting you, Saul.” You took note of how he phrased it.

“Slash, sir.” Your boyfriend corrected him. By your fathers expression you could tell he didn’t like that.

“You’re Saul tonight.” He stated and walked back into the house. Slash looked to you again, you looked back at him with a soft smile and pulled him into your home.

Dinner went worse than you expected. Slash had tried to remain civil, he was polite and didn’t speak unless he was spoken to. It was your parents that did everything in their power to tick him off, complaining about degenerate kids who did nothing but cause trouble.

You’ll never forget that night. Not the way they yelled at Slash nor the way he yelled back. It was like something snapped in him. You’d seen him upset before but nothing compared to this, he’d always been so soft spoken with you, sweet and compassionate. This was totally different.

You were sobbing and ran upstairs to your room, Slash followed suit. He slammed the door behind himself and locked it. You stared blankly at him, tears streaming down your cheeks while he threw some of your clothes into a bag.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, voice shaky and weak.

“Packing.” He said in a firm tone, his voice raised.

“Why?”

“We’re fucking leaving!” He yelled, tossing the bag to you. It landed in your lap with a thud. Slash came over and held a hand out for you to take. “Now come on.” You hesitated. Could you really just pack up and leave your family?

Your parents started banging on your door, demanding to get in but you ignored them. Slash sat next to you, his hands on either of your shoulders. “Look, I’m not gonna up and leave you because you don’t want to come with me.” You sniffled softly as he said this and he wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I’d just rather you come with me than be stuck with them.” You nodded in understanding.

Slash pulled you closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “I love you.” You mumbled. Slash stuttered in his movements for a second before squeezing you gently.

“I love you too.” He kissed the top of your head.

After that night your parents forbid you from seeing him anymore, even going as far as to tell your friends to keep an eye on you which you didn’t know about. You found out after bringing Slash over to eat lunch with you and your friends, that night it started an argument between you and your parents.

They made you switch schools so you wouldn’t have as much easy access to your relationship. They gave you strict schedules filled with extracurriculars to keep you busy and away from Slash. You still found your ways together, late at night you’d sneak out with him just to wander around.

As time progressed you drifted apart. It was no one's fault, the both of you simply happened to leave it. Maybe it was too hard on you, maybe his feelings for you faded. You never forgot him.

You found another man, one your parents approved of. You said you loved him, told everyone and yourself that, but he was just a cheap filler for the cavity left by Slash.

You watched from afar as Slash’s band took off, hearing about all his relationships, the things he got up to. You bought every magazine Guns N’ Roses was featured in, bought posters and their albums. Anything to bring little bits of Slash back into your life.

The man you met proposed to you with your whole family watching, of course you couldn’t say no. You wanted to, oh how badly you wished you could’ve told him and everyone else off for ruining your chance at love.

He never approved of your little ‘hobby’ as he called it. Always making jokes that seemed to cross a line every time. But you couldn’t say anything about it. This was the life your family wanted for you, a good man with a good paying job to support you and your soon to be family.

Your mother was happiest about this and helped you plan the wedding, which was really just her planning everything while you sat pretty for her, fake smile and all.

The wedding neared and you dreaded every day of it. You started getting rid of all your Guns N’ Roses things, knowing there was no use in keeping any of it anymore. You got into a routine of making three meals a day, getting a glass of whiskey ready for your soon to be husband every day after he got home from work.

You walked up the aisle in a dress you never liked, between families you never wanted, to a husband you never loved.

The priest went over the whole ordeal, asking for the vows. You’d memorised what your mother had written up for you. She needed this day to be perfect for her own little fantasy.

“And do you, Y/n L/n, take H/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asked. All eyes now on you as you stood at the end of the chapel, white wedding dress adorned as if you were innocent a day after you met Slash. You knew you should say it, it’s what everyone wanted.

You glanced at your parents and saw the fury in their eyes. You looked up to your fiance, his eyes sharing a similar glower. If you said yes now he’d never forgive you, you’d regret it every day of your life.

You shook your head, dropping the bouquet of pristine flowers in your hands and ran down the aisle, holding your dress up to keep from tripping over it. Everyone called for you to come back, a few even standing to run after you. Hands reached out for you, all of which you managed to avoid with the adrenaline rushing through you in the moment.

The grand doors opened and the cool air hit you. Right outside was a fancy black car you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Slash stepped out of the driver's side and stared at you, eyes wandering up and down your body in pure admiration for your beauty. “That dress looks like shit on you.” He said. You smiled, tears streaming down your cheeks as you ran to the car, quickly getting in the passenger seat.

Slash got back in, his arms going around you and pulling you in for a kiss. All those feelings you’d been trying to leave behind rushing back to you as his hands roamed your body, tugging at the uncomfortable wedding dress you’d been put in, plush lips meshing so perfectly with yours.

Your mother calling your name from the chapel doors is what caught your attention and you pulled away from Slash. “Drive.” You ordered.

“What?” Slash asked, caught off guard from the sudden loss of contact.

“Drive!” You repeated as your mother neared the car. Slash wasted no time in getting you out of there, ignoring the speed limit as he drove.

“Could you slow down?” You asked, reaching for his hand to get his attention. “You’re gonna get pulled over.” Slash shook his head.

“Don’t care, I can pay off a ticket.” You looked over to him and it really hit you. He came back for you. This was Slash. The boy you’d seen falling asleep in class, who got you snacks and followed you around because he didn’t know where else to go. The kid who gave you your first cigarette and laughed when you started coughing. Who held you when you cried.

Except now he was Slash, guitarist of big band Guns N’ Roses, travelling the world and fulfilling his dreams.

“Why’d you come?” You finally asked. You needed an answer after everything. He never tried to contact you. You never tried to contact him either.

His eyes flickered to you then back to the road. “Because I love you.” He said as if it was just yesterday you said that to each other for the first time. “I saw it in the papers that you were getting married to some guy, even in that picture I could see you didn’t want to be there.”

You held his arm close, clinging to it as he drove, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” He kissed the top of your head and kept driving.

“Where are we going?” You asked when you realised you didn’t know where you were.

“My place.” He said simply. “Your family doesn’t know where I live.” You smiled and kissed his cheek.

You’d seen pictures of his house before. At night you’d think of what it would be like to live there with him. When you closed your eyes you could almost pretend he was holding you in that house, that smell of musky cologne and cigarettes washing away all your worries. Then you’d open them and still be stuck living this life you never wanted.

His house was much bigger in person. In a rich neighbourhood, surrounded by forestry. He drove up the long driveway and parked the car, getting out before you so he could open the door for you. He reached for your hand to help you out but you waved it off. “I can get out by myself.” You reminded him, he just smiled lovingly at you and held the door open.

His arm went around your waist, holding you close as he guided you into the house. As soon as the door closed he was on you again, lips crashing together, hands groping each other.

Your hands lost in his hair, tugging on it and pulling him in just as you used to, now with more need than before. Slash pulled at your dress until it ripped, tearing it off of you bit by bit. “Stupid fucking dress.” He grumbled in your ear. “Should’ve been me standing there with you.” He kissed down your neck, over your bare chest after he flung your bra away.

He cupped your chest, kissing, sucking and pinching your nipples, your back pressed against the door as he slid down your body. He looked up at you as he took off your panties and garters, watching every reaction you had as he started licking between your folds, tongue flicking your clit and dipping into you.

His hands held your thighs in a tight grip, one hand letting go so he could finger you and get you ready for him. Your hands were still in his hair, holding his head to your cunt as your hips buckled. Your legs were weak and you couldn’t care less, you were finally getting what you’d been craving for years.

Slash could feel when you were close, how your gummy walls fluttered around his talented fingers. He sucked on your needy clit, tongue flicking it repeatedly until you called out his name, a string of curses following it.

Slash got out of his clothes in a lustful haste to have more of you. He stood and grabbed you, pulling you tight to him as his lips met yours again. You pulled at each other, Slash picked you up and your legs wrapped around him. He stumbled over to a table, pushing into you and starting with an already brutal pace.

You bit his neck and he stumbled back, pushing you up against a wall when he regained his balance. He fucked into you like a mutt who’d found a bitch in heat. Loud moans left you while Slash’s grunts and groans rang in your ears.

He took a step back and nearly toppled over but managed to get you over to the couch. His face was in the crook of your neck, thumb rubbing your clit while his other arm held you to him, hips snapping into you harshly.

You moaned out his name, nails digging into his back. That knot came back in your gut. “Fuck! Slash-Slash, ‘m-’m close.” You whined, clawing at his arms. Slash sat up, lifting your hips over his and grabbing your arms, your knees hooked over his shoulders as he fucked you.

“Been waiting to see that pretty face cumming for so long.” He mumbled through gritted teeth. “Bet he never made you feel as good as I can, hm? Always pretended it was me with you, didn’t you?” You nodded, eyes rolling back as you came around his cock.

After being apart for so many years you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t process anything that was happening other than shocks of pleasure rocketing through you over and over again, Slash’s pretty fucked out face looking down at you when his eyes weren’t shut our rolling back.

Slash was barely conscious himself but he wasn’t done. Both of you were crying from the overstimulation, the couch was ruined and Slash had lost any sense of rhythm a while ago, only focusing on cumming again. Cum was smeared over your ass, his hips and abdomen as well. The room filled with the sound of wet skin and whining.

Finally Slash’s hips came to a halt as he came again, this time he let himself doing, laying his whole weight on you. You were both breathing heavy, hearts pounding.

After a moment you heard Slash sniffling. He moved up and lazily kissed your cheek, that was all he could manage. “I love you.” He whispered in your ear. “And no one’s gonna take you from me again, alright?” You nodded weakly.

You stayed there on the couch for the night. It was a mess, you were sticky and gross, so were Slash and the couch. Neither of you had the energy to move or clean up in the moment, even if you wanted to you found yourself asleep before you could make up your mind.

You awoke the next morning in a bed, all cleaned up and in clean clothes. Not your clothes but Slash’s. A band tee that was a few sizes too big for you and the panties you’d had on the day before.

Slash wasn’t with you but you heard music coming from downstairs and figured that’s where he was. You started getting out of bed but your knees buckled and you had to sit down again.

The bedroom door opened and your favourite boy came in with a bed table full of food. “You’re up.” He said with a smile. He came over and sat next to you on the bed.

“You learned how to cook?” You asked, seeing the small feast. Slash laughed and shook his head.

“No, I ordered out.” You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and started eating, giving you a few bites here and there when he saw you weren’t eating. “Not hungry?”

You shook your head. “Just tired.” You said, kissing his cheek. Slash nodded but continued to give you bites, still wanting to make sure you ate.

You talked about everything that’s been going on in your separate lives, catching each other up on everything. Slash constantly assured you you wouldn’t have to go back to anyone, that you’d be safe with him and he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him.

Finally you had that happily ever after you’d been looking for, that prince in not so shiny boots with a guitar instead of a sword, a tour bus as his trusty steed. You didn’t care, he was yours at last and he finally had his perfect girl under his arm.

[half-bakedboy]

for the buck/tommy prompts — “you’re an idiot.” “yeah, but i’m *your* idiot.”

A few months into dating, Evan asks Tommy to a family dinner at Sergeant Grant and Captain Nash’s house. Tommy’s never been nervous when meeting a significant other’s family or friends, but he sure as Hell is terrified to meet Evan’s pseudo-parents. 

You know, the ones Tommy hijacked his own helicopter for because they saved an entire ship of people from being murdered by pirates, blown up, and drowned in the middle of the ocean where they’d probably never be found?

It didn’t matter that he had met them before. How is he supposed to feel normal about meeting two people like that? 

“I can practically hear you spiraling, and I feel like that’s supposed to be my job,” Evan interrupts his, well, spiraling. Tommy turns toward him from the driver’s seat with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’m meeting your entire family together for the first time. How is this about you again?” Tommy asks. Evan must know he means well because there’s a soft smile on his face and he reaches out to grab Tommy’s hand. If he was a lesser man, they might have been shaking. He feels like he might start when Evan’s face turns more serious. 

“You know I haven’t had the best track record with women…” Evan begins.

Tommy can’t help but interrupt. “Good thing I’m not a woman…”

“Not a woman, I know,” Evan finishes the inside joke with him. He’s running his thumb in soft circles over the back of Tommy’s hand, spelling out words Tommy wishes he could decipher. “You’re different in more ways than that, though.” 

Tommy doesn’t speak even though Evan expects it if the long pause he allows says anything. 

“You might not be part of the 118 right now, but you’re as good as family. You’ve worked side-by-side with Hen and Chim, you were part of the first team that Cap led in L.A., and your friendship with Eddie has only grown since we got together.” Evan sighs. “I’ve always been terrified of not being enough so I’ve pushed people like you away. People who I respect, who I envy, who I wish I could be like so that they can’t replace me.” 

“No one can replace you, Evan,” Tommy inserts, even though he knows he doesn’t have to. Evan knows that, but Tommy will never stop reminding him. 

“No, they can’t,” Evan says confidently. Tommy squeezes his hand with pride. “But that makes this—us—all the more serious to me. You’re sticking around for as long as we’ll have each other, and probably after that.” Evan takes a deep breath and, with vulnerability bursting out of his blue eyes, says, “I guess, this is my way of saying that I want you in this family whether you’re with me or not.” 

Tommy practically melts at the words. It’s what he’s wanted since he first hopped in that helicopter, since before his friendship with Eddie or his relationship with Evan. He’s missed Hen and Howie, and he wants to laugh with their wives about stories from their pasts. He wants to get to know the first Captain he met who deserved to be in his position, and say thank you to the first cop to shake his hand when he finally—and accidentally—came out in a fit of frustration. 

Evan knows exactly how much the sentiment means to him, and to hear him say it out loud, makes emotion swell up in his throat. He knows it’s too soon to talk about forever, but he’s never felt something so close. 

“Plus, if they’re your family, too, they can’t be mad at me for not telling them I was bringing you because the invite was implied.” 

With the moment thoroughly broken, Evan jumps out of the car and runs around to open Tommy’s door. Tommy sighs as he exits, but reaches out to hold Evan’s hand anyways.

“You’re an idiot,” Tommy mutters with a shake of his head. 

There’s so much fondness in the words, that he might as well have said I love you. 

Evan’s grin barely falters, and he kisses Tommy’s cheek quickly but firmly. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” 

It’s not an I love you, too but one day, Tommy thinks it might be.