#every single conversation she’s just like: oh maybe you should meet someone oh maybe there are men oh look out for cute boys oh this oh that

[leahwllmsn]

broke your heart, I’ll put it back together

alexia putellas x reader

In which Alexia is an excellent footballer yet a terrible, terrible girlfriend. You still love her nonetheless.

Alexia never had much experience with the love that she saw in movies: all the hugs and the “I love you”s and the heart-to-heart conversations. Alexia thought they were too cliché anyway. Especially the “I love you”s. Some people give proclamations of love too easily and not mean a single thing. 

Her sister loved to laugh every time people misjudged Alexia to be someone emotionless and cold, when in reality she was just “an awkward introvert who’s terrible at anything related to love and romance and all that jazz,” (Alba’s words). 

Although Alexia would say that that was false. Just because she turned awkward whenever someone showed a bit of affection didn’t mean that Alexia sucked at romance. Alexia had watched enough Nicholas Sparks movies to understand what she had to do when the time came. Flowers. Chocolates. Kissing in the rain. Simple.

(“Simple. Yup, definitely. That’s obviously why you’re still single at the age of thirty.”

“Excuse me! Puta.”

“Should I set you up with someone? Yeah. I’m gonna set you up with someone.”

“Alba, fuck off.”)

So maybe Alexia was thirty and still single. So what? Alexia just never thought of relationships to be that big of a deal. And it definitely wasn’t because of how she was as a person “distant and reserved”—or so how Alba described her to be. Her job was already taking too much of her time as it is.

Alexia was the best footballer in the world, and aside from trainings and matches to play, it also required back-to-back meetings and her full attention and wow, Alexia really was going to die alone as a cat lady which was so much worse because she was allergic to cats.

“Your turn, Ale.”

Alexia turned her gaze towards Mapi. It was media day at the Estadi Johan Cruyff. Alexia always had loathed doing interviews but it was part of the job. “How was it?”

“Fine as usual,” Mapi shrugged, flopping on the empty bench next to Alexia. “Have a feeling you will enjoy this one though.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, moving to stand up. “Why?”

Mapi had a cheeky look on her face. “The interviewer is definitely your type.”

Alexia threw her jacket at Mapi’s face, causing the latter to laugh. “I will gladly say I told you so later! Just you wait!”

Alexia entered one of the rooms that was designated for her interview. It was going to be a fun and lighthearted video. Alexia couldn’t really remember the name of the media that she was assigned to, she had a lot on her mind lately. 

Especially since her family was throwing a get-together over the weekend and now both her mother and Alba were pestering her over bringing someone. Alba putting ideas into Eli’s head that Alexia should be seeing someone at this age and Eli quickly agreeing that she was spending too much time on football—

“Miss Putellas? Hi, nice to meet you.”

Alexia’s mouth went agape.

“I’m y/n and this is my team, Robert and Camila. Thank you for having us.”

On second thought, maybe Alba was right. Maybe Alexia really was destined to be the typical career woman who focused too much on work and never had time for love, especially since she was cold and distant and was really, really downright terrible at romance, because there was no way that her heart was doing somersaults when she should be working. This was awful timing. She was so unprofessional.

Her heart was definitely not skipping a beat because of an interviewer who looked to be in her twenties—oh god, Alexia was definitely not crushing on someone who looked like she was still in university.

But the moment you smiled, Alexia knew she was screwed

—

“Fuck you, Alba.”

“Well, Alexia Putellas, just so you know I do have hundreds of girls lining up wanting to fuck me.”

Alexia groaned into her phone. “First of all, ew! Not funny. I hate you.”

Alba laughed. “What did I do this time?”

“You planted these stupid, stupid thoughts into my head! I was thinking about being single so much that you made me have a crush on someone who’s supposed to interview me—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. How is this my fault?”

“I don’t know!” Alexia exclaimed. “I went into the room and she was there with her stupid cute vest and little notebook in hand and her hair was brown and wavy but not too wavy, it was just perfect the way it falls perfectly down her shoulders and her stupid smile. She was smiling at me, Alba. At me. Smiling.”

“Oookay,” Alba dragged out. “When I said you should find someone I didn’t mean a sugar baby.”

“Alba!”

“What? An interviewer? Journalist? I doubt she’s making a lot per year—”

Alexia groaned even more. “Please don’t go around saying shit like this to anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Whatever, you’re no help,” Alexia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, making sure that she looked fine. Not that she wanted to impress you—she just wanted to look fine to someone who was going to interview her. Yeah, that was it. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Going back to your new lover?”

“Shut up,” Alexia unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom. “I ran to the bathroom because I freaked out.”

Alba’s laugh was so loud that people in the hallways glanced at Alexia as she passed by. “Real smooth. You're totally good at romance. An expert. The real life Romeo—”

Alexia hung up and plopped her phone in the pocket of her tracksuit. She could get through this. She had played in front of thousands, she went through people criticizing her every move as if they were better than her. She wasn’t nervous then, why should she be nervous now?

“Sorry, where were we?” Alexia said as soon as she reentered the room. She took her seat, you on the other side of the camera, still with that damn smile on your face.

“I was just about to tell you that I have always wanted to interview you,” you replied.

“Me?” Alexia squeaked, immediately clearing her throat nervously. 

—No, not nervously. Alexia didn’t get nervous. Fuck.

“Yes. You’re a very interesting person,” you fidgeted with the notepad and pen in your hands, your shoes tapping on the floor slightly. Alexia realized that you were nervous, and somehow the thought placed a smile on her face.

“How long have you been working for …Dazn? You could pass as someone who hasn’t graduated university—not that I’m saying you’re not qualified to do your job or anything, you just look really young- not that it’s a bad thing! Lo siento. I’ll just stop talking.”

Real smooth, Alexia. Real smooth.

“Well,” you chuckled. “To answer your question, one: just for a little while and two: you’re kind of right.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled bashfully. “I’m twenty-five years old, still in university, but for my masters.”

“I see,” Realization dawned on Alexia’s face and she had to look to the side to hide away her smile. A five year age gap. Not bad at all. 

…Not that it was important, though. Definitely not important. “What are you majoring in?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Isn’t this supposed to be me interviewing you?”

Alexia laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Should we jump into it then?”

“Fire away.”

—

As soon as you left, Alexia couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. She didn’t know whether it was because of how stupidly charming you were or because of your addictive smile—okay, no. It was probably not because of you at all. You, who she barely knew. You, with the stars in your eyes, staring at Alexia as if you adored her to bits and wanted to know every single detail about her, including Alexia’s favourite food.

“She asked the question out of nowhere, Albs. We were talking about the upcoming season the second before.” Alexia recalled.

“That does seem pretty random.” Alba replied in between bites of her food.

“Right?! It was like she was done with all her questions, but she wanted to get to know me further—”

Alexia’s sentence was cut off by Alba’s laughter. “Don’t get too cocky now, Ale. Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she’s into you too.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a crush on her. I can admit she’s attractive. And funny. And smart. Does not mean I have a crush on her.”

“Seems like you do,” Alba said, a smirk forming on her lips. “Which is great! Haven’t I been telling you to find someone? This is super great.”

“I’m not gonna date someone years younger than me, Alba,” Alexia cut into her steak and took a bite. Yup. She wasn’t going to date someone who was five years younger than her.

“She’s twenty-five, that’s nothing.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at the brunette in front of her. “…How do you know her age? I never told you her age.”

“Google exists,” Alba said simply. “And remember the girl I’m sort-of-seeing-but-not-really?”

“Marta,” Alexia nodded.

“Maria,” Alba corrected. “She’s your girl’s best friend.”

Alexia paused her fork mid-air. “What?”

Alba hummed. “They're on the way here as we speak.”

“What?!” Alexia repeated, a clang echoing throughout her dining room as her fork fell to her plate.

“I invited them over for drinks.”

Alexia palmed her face and groaned. “I think I missed the part where you invited them over to my place without my acknowledgement.”

“Oh whatever, hermana,” Alba waved her off. “Stop acting as if I don’t live here.”

“You don’t,” Alexia reminded.

“Your place is my place and all that,” Alba teased.

“Alba,” Alexia felt like strangling Alba. Or anything to wipe that grin off her face—

The doorbell interrupted them.

Alba squeaked and jumped out of her chair. “That’s them!”

Alexia opened her mouth to say something but Alba was already out of the room before she could utter a word. Damn it.

Alexia forced herself to stay cool, following after Alba and sighing when she neared the front door and saw a girl she’d seen in Alba’s pictures and you.

“Hello,” Alexia greeted. 

“Amor, this is my grumpy and very single sister, Alexia,” Alba pointed at Alexia and Alexia slapped Alba’s hand away.

“I’m Alexia,” Alexia put her hand out, her smile widening when she caught your eyes. Okay, so maybe she didn’t hate Alba that much.

“I know, wow, it’s an honor,” your best friend shook Alexia’s hands. “You’re a legend.”

Alexia laughs, her cheeks turning red. “Thank you.” She turned to you and gave a little wave. “I don’t think introductions are necessary, is it?”

“Hi, Miss Putellas,” you said. Alexia hated how addicted she was to your voice despite having just met you today.

“Oh no. Alexia is fine, please.”

“Okay then,” you grinned and Alexia swore she could die on the spot. “Alexia it is.”

—

“So, Alexia,” you started. You were seated on one couch, Alba and Maria occupying the smaller seater to your left. No one seemed to be paying attention to the movie anymore. Alexia couldn’t even remember what the damn plot of the movie was. You, as it turned out, smelled really good and it was very addicting—and Alexia was insane. Insane for developing a tiny crush on you when you two had just met today. 

You looked like you didn’t know what to say, settling with, “Nice place.”

Alexia gave a soft laugh. “Thank you? There’s more that I haven’t shown you actually.”

“Yeah?” you sounded like you wanted to have Alexia show you around.

Alexia darted her eyes towards her sister and her ‘not-so-date’ to see that they had both fallen asleep. Alexia contemplated whether being alone with you would be something she should be doing or not, and after a moment she decided that there wasn’t any reason for her to not want to be alone with you. 

So Alexia stood up and offered a hand out for you to take. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

—

Five minutes into being alone with you and walking around Alexia’s house—or mansion, as you called it—Alexia discovered five things about you.

You had two dogs, Salt and Pepper, and Alexia could tell how much you loved them with the way you excitedly told the story about how you got them.

You were an only child and your parents spoiled you to bits and they supported you in everything you did, all the way from the United States.

You were American.

You were taking your masters in sports science and Alexia made a mental note to talk to the physios at Barça on whether they have a vacant spot for you. Not because Alexia wanted to see you everyday, but because she was sure you were a certified genius.

You were hilarious and made Alexia laugh a lot. Alexia wanted more of you.

You were in the middle of retelling how your day went and Alexia somehow really wanted to kiss you, which was dumb and stupid, considering how she barely knew you. 

You got excited over the littlest things, you talked animatedly about how you saw a dog on your way to Alexia’s place that looked a lot like your own and you gushed about how the dog barked excitedly at you. Alexia found it adorable, despite being confused on how a dog can bark ‘excitedly’.

“I’m sorry I talk a lot,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t be,” Alexia bumped your shoulders lightly as you two continued your walk around her house. “It’s cute.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Alexia could see the red on the tips of your ears. Adorable. “Can we go outside?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Alexia led you towards the nearest door that leads to her backyard. “The pool is on the other side, this is my flower garden.”

“You have a flower garden,” you stated. 

Alexia hummed in reply. “I love looking at flowers. They are pretty.”

Once you stepped outside, Alexia felt her teeth chatter, cursing herself for not wearing anything more appropriate for the cold night air. When she was about to ask you if you wanted to head back inside, a jacket was draped around her shoulders and Alexia was surrounded with the scent of your vanilla perfume.

“y/n, you don’t have to—”

“Take it,” you insisted. “You’re freezing.”

“You’re gonna freeze.” 

Alexia shook off the black jacket and was about to place it around your shoulders but you walked ahead. “I won’t,” you walked backwards, smiling reassuringly. “I’m still wearing long-sleeves, see? I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

Alexia hesitated for a second before putting on the jacket. Alexia hugged herself tighter, it was still cold but also because the jacket smelled really nice. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you replied. You stopped walking and Alexia would know this if she wasn’t so busy looking elsewhere but you. 

The moment Alexia bumped into you, your hands immediately went to steady her, resting on Alexia’s forearms. Alexia could feel herself flush, her cheeks getting warm, profusely apologizing because she was usually never this clumsy.

You giggled, your hands were still sending fire to Alexia’s skin, your faces inches apart. “That’s okay.”

“I should’ve watched where I was going,” Alexia’s face was apologetic. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really,” you were smiling at her. “A lot on your mind today?”

Alexia studied your face and nodded. Definitely a lot. She noticed that you had a mole under your left eyebrow. 

“Mind sharing?” you asked.

Alexia immediately stood up straighter and cleared her throat. You dropped your hands, but made no move to step away. “Just- work. Media day has never been my favourite.”

Yup. Work. Definitely not because Alexia couldn’t get your pretty eyes off her mind.

You narrowed your eyes at her and Alexia held her breath. You were really close. It was getting harder to breathe. All Alexia could think about was that vanilla was about to become her favourite scent.

“You’re very interesting.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows at that. “I am?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I saw you at training yesterday, you know. We had a briefing to prepare for today. You were… I wouldn’t say scary, but I was pretty sure your teammates were about to pee their pants.”

Alexia broke into a laugh. “What?”

“You had that furrow between your brows,” you elaborated, raising your hand and hesitantly running a finger across Alexia’s forehead. “And I could hear your stern captain voice,” you chuckled, dropping your hand. “But despite that you were still as charismatic and graceful as ever. I could see why people would be so intimidated by you.”

“And that’s interesting to you?” Alexia said, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest.

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice matching Alexia’s whisper. “Because while I was interviewing you earlier today and this whole night, you’ve been acting the opposite and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“The opposite?”

“You’re… awkward,” you laughed. “You take charge on the field, your chin held high, you look people straight in the eye when conversing with them. But you’re so awkward—you bump into me, you stutter, you can’t look me in the eye for more than five seconds.”

Damn it. You were smart. Well, Alexia knew you were smart, but this was… this was you being able to read Alexia’s thoughts and damn. it.

Alexia couldn’t even defend herself because it was true. All the things you observed were true and what could Alexia exactly say to that? That Alexia acted that way because she was nervous? That being around you made her nervous? Which was baffling because Alexia had done speeches in front of thousands of people without tripping over her words once, yet one night with you and Alexia‘s vocabulary went out the window.

“Uh I’m sorry if that was overstepping,” you said, finally stepping backwards. “I was just stating what I saw.”

You looked really beautiful under the moonlight. Your eyes casted downwards, your hands fidgety, as if you were doubting yourself about why you said all that. You looked nervous, perhaps about what Alexia would say next. 

But despite everything, you looked really beautiful under the moonlight and Alexia figured that there was no harm in telling you that.

“You’re right,” Alexia laughed. “You’re absolutely right.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”

You whipped your head up and looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “What?”

“I think you look really beautiful right now,” Alexia exhaled and stepped forward. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “That is why I’m so awkward around you. I just don’t know how to act. I get nervous around pretty girls.”

You laughed and Alexia took it as an opportunity to pull you in for a kiss, swallowing all your laughter.

Alexia became addicted to the scent of vanilla.

—

Turns out Alexia did suck at romance. She missed dates, forgot to call you back and was a bad texter. The first week Alexia didn’t think her thing with you was going to last. She really was terrible.

But weeks turned into months and despite the missed dinners, you stayed patient. You were there in her kitchen with takeout at 10 p.m., waiting for Alexia’s meeting to end. You were there at 7 in the morning before Alexia left for training, a bag of pastries in hand. Alexia would happily munch on her guilty pleasures on the way to training, quickly getting rid of any traces of crime from her nutritionists.

You didn’t get tired of her even though Alexia stupidly didn’t move an inch the first time you initiated a kiss. You only laughed when you first stayed the night at Alexia’s place and Alexia offered her bed while she slept in one of her spare bedrooms. You didn’t mind that you sent paragraphs of text only for Alexia to reply with one or two words—you didn’t get mad, instead you would call Alexia to get her reply because you knew Alexia preferred talking instead of texting.

And Alexia was never the one to show affection. Pats on the back between teammates were appropriate. Hugs were awkward. She kissed each of her exes once or twice. 

You were different and you were persistent. You liked hugs. You hugged Alexia any chance you could get. You preferred to cuddle during movie nights and you liked to hug Alexia from behind when she was cooking dinner. The fact that Alexia tensed whenever you hugged her just made you hug her even tighter.

Strangely, Alexia didn’t find it uncomfortable. If she did, she would've said something. But Alexia actually liked your hugs. 

(“Are all hugs like this?”

“What do you mean ‘are all hugs like this’?

“I don’t know, Alba. Like- you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” 

“God, you’re nauseating.”

“I’m asking a genuine question!”

“You are in love that's what it is.”)

Five months into your relationship, Alexia started to be the one initiating the hugs. She was more affectionate; intertwining your hand with hers when you walk side-by-side and kissing you goodbye in front of your friends, not caring about the whistles thrown at you.

Alexia still missed dates and phone calls, but strangely enough you still didn’t seem to mind. Alexia was left dumbfounded because how were you perfectly fine with all of this? There was a reason why Alexia’s past relationships never lasted.

“I know you’re busy, baby. And I know you’re trying your best too.” you once said. Alexia almost shed a tear because how were you so. damn. perfect?

After eight months of being together, Alexia was juggling her relationship and football much better. She canceled an important meeting for the first time ever because she promised that she would pick you and your parents up from the airport.

Alba called her crazy, and her past self definitely would agree with Alba. Alexia didn’t care though. The smile on your face when Alexia showed up with flowers in hand was priceless.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Hm?” Alexia looked to the side and found you staring at her. “Nothing.”

You laughed, setting your book aside and rested your head on Alexia’s chest. Alexia wrapped her arms around your smaller frame and kissed the top of your head.

“If you say so,” you lazily drew circles on Alexia’s stomach. “What should we get for dinner?”

“What do you want?”

“You always ask me what I want,” you giggled. “Can you choose for tonight?”

Alexia hummed in thought and after a moment she added, “Pizza it is.”

You immediately sat upright, a huge grin on your face. “You really are a mind reader, you know?”

Alexia shrugged, a smile at the corner of her lips. “I told you.”

You shook your head fondly, laughing as you laid back down to your previous position.

“I love you, Ale.”

I love you. Right. Alexia should probably say it back at some point.

But should she even say it back? Wasn’t that too soon? Alexia didn’t know when the appropriate time of reciprocating your girlfriend’s confession of love would be.

When she asked Alba about it, Alba questioned her back asking if the reason she hadn’t said it back was because she didn’t feel the same way you did—which was stupid. Alexia made sure to throw her popcorn across the couch, all the way to Alba’s face, because what kind of stupid question was that?

The first time you said those three words to Alexia, Alexia accidentally sliced her finger instead of the tomato on her chopping board. It was three months after you became official and Alexia wasn’t expecting it. Not that soon, at least. But you did and Alexia was so caught off guard that you two had to halt your cooking session and order sushi for dinner instead. Alexia didn’t bring up the topic again all night and you didn’t either.

Just because Alexia didn’t say it back didn’t mean she didn’t love you. 

Or… maybe Alba was right. Did she love you? 

You, who were the most understanding and loving person Alexia had ever met. You, who made her laugh in the mornings and made her laugh before she went to sleep. You, who were never mad at Alexia when she forgot to call despite promising that she would.

“Being in love with someone and just enjoying their company are completely different things, you know that right?”

“What?” Alexia looked at her sister in disbelief. “Of course I do.”

“Cool. So which one is it with you?”

“Which one?”

Alba rolled her eyes. “Are you in love with her or do you just like having her around?”

In Alexia’s defense, she didn’t have much experience of being in love. How was she supposed to know whatever that feeling was like? The only relationship she had was with Jenni and that didn't work out because they were both too busy to have a relationship. Was she ever in love with Jenni? Maybe not. A crush, sure. Jenni was an attractive woman.

Was it the same with you? Alexia liked you a lot, that was for sure. Was it so much to the point that it was love?

Alexia figured if this was Jenni, she wouldn’t have to think about this so much. Jenni didn’t care about love and all the cliché things. Alexia didn’t either. 

And Alexia wouldn’t have cared so much if it weren’t for the fact that you told Alexia you loved her every chance you got. (Alexia felt like the world’s biggest asshole every time you got silence instead of her saying it back).

When it rained and Alexia always held the umbrella for the two of you, making sure not a single droplet of rain fell on top of your head but ended up soaking wet herself, you would laugh and “I love you, Alexia Putellas.” 

When you had to move out of your apartment and Alexia told you that you could stay with her until you found a place because she did have some spare rooms (even though you ended up sleeping in Alexia’s bed every night), “Really? Alexia Putellas, my saviour, thank you, I love you,” as you peppered her face with kisses.

When Alexia found out that Maria, your best friend, was also your first love, you reassured her that all your feelings for Maria were now strictly platonic. “She was my first love, but that was years ago. I love you. You’re my present and my future, Alexia Putellas.”

When you came home with Alexia for Christmas and some of her family members kept on sending wary glances towards you, you held Alexia’s hand on top of the dinner table and proclaimed your love for her for everyone to hear, your chin up and your tone proud. “I love Alexia. I’ll take care of her the best way I can.”

When Alexia would pick you up from classes, leaning against her grey Cupra, you would sprint towards her, a big smile on your face and a “You didn’t have to pick me up, I know you’re a busy woman. Love you.”

Every single time Alexia would return a smile or a kiss, never saying it back when she knew you were expecting it every single time. Alexia realized romance wasn’t as easy as she thought and this whole thing with you was bound to blow up if she didn’t get her shit together.

—

Turns out, it did blow up sooner than Alexia expected. She wished this point never came—she knew it would, she had been dreading it ever since—but Alexia cursed the stars for actually making it happen. She just wanted to at least hold you for another night.

You two were getting ready for bed, Alexia changing into her pyjamas while you were already tucked in bed and you two were fine. 

Alexia was talking about her day, how her mom scolded her because she was five minutes late to breakfast (which was insane because it was only five minutes), about the meeting she had for a possible new brand deal, and how she missed you the entire day. And maybe Alexia should’ve noticed how quiet you were or how your body tensed the moment Alexia slid her arms under the cover and wrapped them around your waist.

When Alexia thought you had fallen asleep, you spoke, just barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

It was silent—so silent that Alexia could hear a hair pin drop. She didn’t know why this night felt different. Alexia didn’t know why there was an edge to your voice and why there was something else she couldn’t quite place.

You turned around to face your girlfriend. Alexia could make out the faint outlines of your face in the dark—she had memorized every single inch of you.

“I love you, Alexia,” you stated once more. This time Alexia could clearly hear the challenge in your tone.

Alexia stared back at you, a sinking feeling started to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Seconds passed by, Alexia saw the mixture of emotions all over your face. You were hurt, Alexia could tell. You looked angry too, this Alexia wasn’t expecting. 

“Do you love me?”

Alexia was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “What?”

“Do. you. love. me?” your tone turned impatient.

Alexia was wide-eyed. This wasn’t where she was expecting this night to go. “y/n—”

You got up from the bed and Alexia followed suit. You two were standing in front of each other on the foot of the bed, you with your arms across your chest and a scowl on your face. 

“Hey, what’s going on?

“‘What’s going on’?” you scoffed. “Do you love me or not? I asked you a simple question, Alexia.”

“I—” Alexia‘s voice got stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like that she was being put on the spot like this either.

You stayed silent, an expectant look on your face. When Alexia didn’t say anything else, you let out a big sigh.

“y/n…” Alexia croaked out. She was afraid where this conversation would go.

You groaned, taking a fistful of your hair before exploding at Alexia. “It’s a simple fucking question, Alexia!”

Alexia was taken aback by your outburst. “I—”

You stepped forward, a fiery look in your eyes. “I. Love. You.” you punctured each word with a jab to Alexia’s chest. 

Alexia stared into your eyes, seeing the mixture of rage, sadness and disappointment swimming around in them. Alexia knew she should say something—she should say the one thing she knew you wanted to hear. But why was it so hard for her to utter those words? Was it because she didn’t feel it? Or was it because she was scared? Alexia didn’t know, she needed to think, but you weren't letting her.

“You don’t love me, do you?” your tone was full of defeat. Alexia knew that it was now or never. She was going to lose you—really lose you—if she didn’t say something. “All this time you never said it. I tried to make sense of it, I tried to make sense of you. You got me flowers every week—sometimes even twice a week. You listen when I ramble about useless things, you accompany me to my lame university events, let people talk to you about politics and you never talk back to them even though I know you have opposite views on things. You just want my friends to like you. You remember all the dumb little things, remember when we first met and what I was wearing at that time. You tell me I look good even though I stayed up all night doing my assignments, you tell me I’m beautiful at five in the morning, at midnight, in the middle of the day. You look at me like you’re in love with me. Like you love me.” 

You paused and took a deep breath. You gave a bitter laugh before looking straight into Alexia’s eyes. “You do all these things but you never told me that you love me. Not even once, Ale. And once upon a time, I believed you loved me. But I just—I don’t know anymore.”

Alexia stayed silent. 

“You’re not even gonna say anything?”

Alexia stayed silent because she didn’t know how to say anything without hurting you even more.

“So it’s true, then?” your tone was full of defeat, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Alexia hated herself for being the cause of it.

“y/n,” Alexia whispered, her hands reaching out to touch you but you moved away. “I—”

“No,” you ran a hand through your hair and gave a humourless laugh. “Just, save it, Alexia. I think I heard you loud and clear.”

When you slammed the door shut, Alexia felt the sobs at the back of her throat but she swallowed them. To cry meant she regretted everything that led you to walk out. 

Alexia did this to herself. She was the reason you left, Alexia didn’t deserve to cry. So Alexia stared out her window all night, wondering whether the reason her heart hurt so much was because the feeling she had for you was love all along and she was just too dumb to realize.

—

When Alexia didn’t get a single ‘I love you, beautiful’ in the middle of a meeting and when no one was there to kiss her goodnight and whispers of ‘I love you’, Alexia wondered how dumb she was to let everything slip from her fingers.

—

Maria came by her house a few days after you left, saying that you had asked her to pack your stuff up. Alexia couldn’t do anything else but let her in and watched as your things that were scattered around her house were shoved into boxes.

Alexia didn't say anything, she couldn’t ask Maria where you were staying now or if you were okay. Alexia figured she didn't deserve an answer. 

“Is this y/n’s?” Maria was holding a stuffed teddy bear, one of its eyes missing and an embroidery of your initials seen on its left chest.

“No,” Alexia lied, taking the teddy and sending your best friend a small smile hoping that she was convincing enough. “It's mine. I know I’m too old to own one of these… it has… sentimental values.”

Maria nodded and Alexia had a feeling that Maria knew she was lying, that she knew exactly that it was your favourite teddy bear and that Alexia lied because she wanted to keep a part of you to herself. 

“Okay then, I’ll get going,” Maria lifted the last of the boxes and gave Alexia an awkward smile. 

Alexia nodded and gestured towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once the back of Maria’s car was filled with your things, it dawned on Alexia that you were really gone.

You weren't talking to her anymore and there weren't any of your things left in Alexia’s house. There was no more reason for you to come back and Alexia had to force a smile on her face, not wanting to cry, especially not in front of Maria.

“Actually, uhm,” Maria cleared her throat. “y/n has something for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Maria gave an awkward laugh before reaching into her car and pulling out an envelope. “She told me to give you this.”

Alexia took the envelope with shaky hands, once again forcing a smile onto her face. “Thanks.”

Maria was looking at her with so much pity in her eyes and a part of Alexia was angry at her, because just like Maria, she pitied herself too. How could she ruin such a good relationship? She felt pathetic and she understood why Maria was looking at her that way.

“Alexia, look,” Maria stepped forward and placed a hand on the captain’s arm. “I honestly think you two will get through this.”

Alexia gave a bitter laugh at that. Was Maria mocking her now? “She packed all of her things. Well, you did, but it doesn’t matter. What part of all of this still makes you think that she’ll come back? Because I don’t think she will. I screwed up. She is not coming back. It’s fine, I’ll live.” Alexia hated how despite trying to act unaffected, anyone could hear the shakiness in her voice.

Maria squeezed her arm lightly. “She loves you. And right now she doesn’t think that you love her back, which I know isn’t the case.”

“How? You don’t know what I’m feeling,” Alexia felt her defensiveness kick in. “What if she’s right and I don’t love her, not even a little bit?”

Maria shook her head and gave a soft smile. “You seem to forget that I’ve been in your place before. I know what it looks like to love y/n—to be in love with her. You can’t lie to me.”

Alexia crossed her arms. She didn’t know why she was getting annoyed at where the conversation was going. “Then why don’t you go be with her?”

Maria laughed at that. “Because she loves you, not me, silly. Plus, I’m in love with your sister.”

Alexia didn’t say anything in reply and Maria took that as a cue to leave. Before getting in her car, she looked at Alexia one last time. “Contrary to what you think, you haven’t really lost her—not for good anyway.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” Alexia replied, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.

“I know that if you show up in front of her right now and tell her how you really feel, she’ll take you back in a heartbeat. She loves you.”

“Then why did she ask you to pack her things?” Alexia challenged back. “If she still loves me like you claimed, wouldn’t she be fine with seeing my face and not having to avoid me? And she wouldn’t just- just leave.”

“Ale, you two broke up over something so stupid. I can’t for the love of me figure out why- how something so simple can—” Maria palmed her forehead, letting out a sigh. “Just tell her you love her. What’s so hard about that?”

“Because I don’t know if I do!” Alexia shouted frustratedly. “Okay?”

Maria softened at that and gave Alexia a reassuring smile. “I have a feeling that you already know the answer,” she shrugged. “Think it through. Don’t take too long.” 

And with that Maria left, leaving Alexia standing with your envelope in her hands. She took a deep breath and opened it. Alexia expected a long letter—maybe of you ranting about how much you hated her for breaking your heart, or pages filled with curses and how you never wanted to see her again. But all she got was a small piece of paper with one sentence and a bracelet that Alexia gave you on your one month anniversary.

it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way I do, don't beat yourself up

-y/n

—

When days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Alexia still hadn’t heard from you, Alexia realized she finally lost you for good. Alexia realized that maybe she should’ve taken Maria’s advice, but she had put it off so much that now it had been months and who was to say that you hadn’t already found someone new? Someone who actually loved you.

The thought caused Alexia to finally bawl her eyes out, exactly three months after you left. Alexia let herself feel all the pain and hurt, savoring every little twinge in her heart because she deserved it all. She hurt you, she didn’t deserve anything good anymore.

Alba pulled her out of bed, telling her to get her shit together and usually Alexia was never the one to dwell on things—once you fall, you get back up. 

But this time it was different. Alexia felt that this was it. How could she recover from all this hurt when all she wanted was your smile back? Alexia thought that if she was given a choice, she would rather lose the Ballon d’Or than to lose you—that was how important you were to her. Alexia knew she was dumb to not realize it sooner.

Despite Alexia’s complete despair about the whole thing, Alba was adamant that Alexia could do something about it. Alba was the one who told her to woman up and chase after her girl and “Seriously, hermana? I know I said you’re terrible at romance but don’t let that define you?! Do something!”

One night, Alexia discovered a pub not far from her place. No one was there except for her and one bartender. It was nice, Alexia could drink as much as she wanted without any judgment from anyone, and most importantly, she could think.

Alexia had a list and it went something like this:

Do I love y/n? 

Can I get y/n back

Do I even deserve y/n back

Am I in love with y/n

Does y/n still love me

How can y/n be so perfect

Do. I. Love. Her

Alexia was brooding and drowning in her sorrows, everything seemed so wrong. It all seemed so difficult and it took hours of being alone, surrounded by alcohol, for Alexia to finally realize that it was actually simple.

Well, the drink definitely helped, but a song was playing on the speakers and Alexia would think that it was odd for a Taylor Swift song to be playing there if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only customer that night and the bartender probably just didn’t care about his song choices.

“Let me get this straight,” Alba said slowly, sipping on her coffee. It was the morning after and a Saturday, Alba was always at Alexia’s at 7 a.m.  “You had an epiphany… because of a song you heard?”

“Yes,” Alexia nodded. “It’s actually very simple.”

“Very simple…?”

“This whole thing. I’m in love with y/n.” Alba choked on her coffee and Alexia patted her back. “A shocker,” Alexia grimaced at Alba’s coughs. “I know.”

“What kind of song led you to this conclusion?” 

“Taylor Swift.”

“No fucking way.”

“What?” Alexia shrugged. “Kissing on sidewalks, light-hearted jokes, coffees at midnight… they’re all simple things but it’s who you’re with that makes it all so special. And I had all the things that the song mentioned with y/n, and they meant a lot to me—even though these things seem trivial, I cherish them a lot because I felt happy and- and in love. I get it now.”

Alba was stunned, Alexia could see with the way her eyes were widened and mouth agape.

“So this is definitely months overdue. Maybe I should’ve looked for y/n right after Maria took her things away, but it is what it is. I want to make things right. Help me, please.”

“Finally,” Alba sighed, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “I know where she lives now. Will you promise me not to break her heart anymore, because she's my girlfriend’s best friend and I really can’t have you breaking her heart again.”

Alexia grinned as Alba told her your address.

—

To get you back, Alexia had a plan (courtesy of Miss Taylor Swift):

Stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain

Say “It’s been a long three months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want”

Say “I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. Broke your heart, I'll put it back together”

Remind her how it used to be

—

“Hi.”

Your eyes immediately widened once you saw Alexia. 

You stared at the girl in front of you for a good minute. Alexia had to hug herself tighter, her teeth chattering from the cold. “Are you going to let me in? Besides it being so cold, I don’t want your neighbour to see me in these.” Alexia gestured towards the baby pink sweatshirt with tiny puppies she was wearing. 

“You’re—”

“Insane?” Alexia grinned. Exactly like what the Taylor Swift song said. This was going as planned.

“No- well that too,” you said, looking at Alexia in disbelief. “What I meant to say is that you’re drenched.”

“Yes,” Alexia agreed. “It is raining.”

“Exactly! Why are you out in the rain?”

“Because- because I’m supposed to stand here like a ghost, shaking from the rain.” Alexia had a smile on her lips, hoping that you would smile back at her because that would mean that you didn’t hate her.

So when you laughed in disbelief and shook your head, ushering her inside, Alexia breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Do you want some tea?” you offered.

“No, thank you.”

“Right, my bad,” you opened your fridge, taking something out. “What I meant to offer is milk,” you placed the tiny sized milk carton on the kitchen counter and sat across Alexia. “I still can’t believe you drink this.“

“You don’t drink milk,” Alexia stated.

You shrugged, your cheeks showing a hint of pink. “This has been a permanent thing on my grocery list. It’s second nature. I guess.”

Alexia stayed silent. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t expecting this. Maybe she was expecting you to hate her. For you to slam the door in her face and never talk to her again. 

With how your last interaction turned out, Alexia was expecting you to be more angry, or to be anything other than to welcome Alexia into your new apartment and provide her with her favourite drink that you still bought even though you two broke up months ago.

It wasn’t making any sense to her. 

“How are you so civil towards me?” Alexia blurted out.

“I’m sorry?”

“You didn’t slam the door in my face.”

You looked confused. “Was I supposed to do that?”

“No!” Alexia quickly said. “I mean- it’s nice that you didn’t slam the door in my face. I think I would’ve, if I were you.”

“Oh. Well. I don’t think I’m the type to slam the door in my ex’s face.”

Alexia laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” you grinned. A warm feeling settled in Alexia’s chest because she really missed that smile.

The silence that followed was nice. Alexia’s eyes darted around your apartment as she sipped on her strawberry milk. You poured yourself a cup of tea and it was still funny how your choice of drink was more mature than Alexia’s despite being five years younger than her. 

“So what brings you here?” you broke the silence.

“Oh,” Alexia rubbed the back of her neck. “Why I came here…” Alexia trailed off.

“Why you came here…” you copied.

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. She had a whole speech planned out, but now you were staring at her and Alexia was surprised that your eyes that used to look at Alexia with so much love were still looking at her the exact same way. 

That, and combined with the fact that Alexia couldn’t spot a single trace of anger in your face despite what Alexia did, made her burst into tears.

Here was the thing: Alexia disliked crying. That was obvious with the way Alexia cried for you months after you left and not the days that followed. Alexia was convinced that crying was a sign of weakness, so whenever she felt hot tears at the back of her eyes, she would always squeeze her eyes shut and push them away.

It was surprising to her that she was openly letting her tears fall in the middle of her ex’s kitchen, her chest shaking as her cries became harder.

Alexia felt you next to her and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled into your arms. She could hear the pounding of your heart and she could feel your gentle kisses on the top of her head. It felt good and it made Alexia realize that letting her emotions show wasn’t so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m really sorry for being so oblivious about things,” Alexia croaked out. “Sorry for hurting you. I never meant to.”

“Alexia—”

“Let me finish,” Alexia interrupted, turning in her chair to face you. She looked up into your warm eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Just like what she practiced. “Uhm- it’s been a long three months. I was too afraid to tell you what I want—”

“You are not quoting Taylor Swift,” you were holding in your laughter. “Are you?”

“y/n,” Alexia groaned. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? But Taylor Swift said—”

You laughed so hard and Alexia felt the warmness back in her chest. “Sorry it’s just,” you sighed fondly. “You hate Taylor Swift, Ale.”

“I don’t! I just don’t know her well enough to like her,” Alexia corrected. “There’s a difference.” 

“Mhmm, sure.”

“I listened to a couple of her songs and they weren’t that bad. Plus, the lyrics really resonated with me.”

“So all this speech is just you telling me you like Taylor Swift now?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, ignoring your remark. “No. There was one song about being in love, and it was so-” Alexia’s voice grew smaller, her cheeks reddening before she could finish her sentence. “It describes how I feel about you. It helped me… understand my feelings.”

You had an amused look on your face, almost smug. Alexia’s face kept on flushing under your gaze. “Hm. How so?”

“Oh you know,” Alexia started fidgeting with her hands on top of the kitchen counter, looking everywhere but you. “Just… That I understand why they lost their minds and fought the wars.”

You were quiet before you burst out laughing. Alexia had an offended look on her face yet she was smiling nonetheless. “Excuse me,” Alexia chastised. “I’m trying to confess something here.”

You immediately pursed your lips but not a second later the laughters were back. “Sorry,” you said once your laughter died down. “You’ve been quoting Taylor Swift the entire night. Who are you, Alexia Putellas?”

“Can you not?” Alexia pouted. “I’m not good at this, you know that.”

Alexia could feel your hands cupping her cheeks, causing them to burn under your touch. All this felt awfully familiar and Alexia had to remind herself that you were broken up.

Taking a deep breath while still having you so near, Alexia continued. “I can’t remember what to say next. Maybe because you’re too close,” Alexia bluntly said. When a hint of hurt and confusion flashed across your face, Alexia was quick to clarify. “You’re making me nervous, y/n. It’s- I’m just so nervous. You know I always get nervous around you. Can you please stand at least five feet away?”

You shook her head in amusement and moved away, sitting on your previous spot across from Alexia. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alexia smiled sheepishly. “I think what’s ridiculous is how we’re broken up yet it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you had your eyes casted downwards, a wistful smile on your lips. ‘Remind her how it used to be’, checked.

“I’m sorry I screwed things up. You know how dumb I can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you scrunched up her nose. “You can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“But I still love you nonetheless.” And there it was again, the challenge in your tone. Alexia was transported back to that night three months ago when you left.

“Okay…” Alexia dragged on. “I know what you’re expecting and honestly I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it but—” Alexia took a deep breath. 

“I don’t have much experience with love and believe it or not, I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t find it important. What was important to me was football and being the best in the world, making sure my legacy lives on and how my dad would be proud of me, wherever he is. So if you’d ask me what love was a year ago, my paper would turn out blank, because I just don’t care. Alba kept on making jokes about how I’m going to end up alone and—” Alexia laughed. “Frankly, it wasn’t even a joke because I was pretty sure it would come true. But then I met you, and I was so determined to prove Alba wrong because I can care about someone other than football, but then you left, and I was back to the sinking feeling that maybe I’m just not meant for anyone. And before you say anything, y/n, I know I can overthink sometimes—or maybe a lot. But uhm- you being gone, it forced me to think and I realized that it’s actually a lot simpler than what I imagined.”

“Alexia, breathe,” you interrupted, a fond look on your face. 

Alexia took a deep breath, she didn’t realize how much she was rambling. “Sorry,” Alexia smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of her neck nervously. “What I meant to say is—“

You caught Alexia’s hands that were waving around crazily in front of her. “I think,” you laughed, you intertwined your fingers and Alexia had to take another deep breath because she forgot what a sight it was to see your hands locked. “I really think you should breathe first.”

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m so all over the place with you. I can win championships, but with you… I had to practice my speech in front of a stupid mirror, because I know this will happen. This, as in me throwing up words- God, I’m such a mess.”

“You practiced in front of a mirror?” 

“Huh? Yeah,” Alexia’s cheeks grew red. “Of course I did…”

You let go of Alexia’s hands and leaned back. “Well then, go on.”

“Huh?” Alexia squeaked.

“Yes, your speech. We wouldn’t want your practice to go to waste now, do we?” you were smiling and Alexia really wanted to kiss that smile away. 

“Fine. Yes. My speech.” Alexia took a deep breath. “y/n. Love is… Love is mornings with you and how your smile is the first thing I see when I wake up. Love is the sound of your laughter echoing throughout the supermarket aisle when I did a stupid dance after getting the last box of mac and cheese. Love is the nights spent together, feeling the rise and fall of your chest and how you talk in your sleep. Love is the silence on the way home, when we’re both too tired to talk, but it’s nice and I don’t mind it. Love is the way your hands instantly find mine every single time. And I know that love isn’t perfect because love is me breaking your heart and unknowingly breaking mine too. Love is scary because love is lowering your guards down and putting your heart on a damn silver platter and giving your person the chance to ruin you. But I’d let you, y/n. I’d give you a million chances to ruin me because I love you.” 

Your stare was intense and Alexia had to look away. “Te amo. I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, and I know it has been months and a lot has changed… but I’m here, if you want me. I am all yours. Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the first night, I think.”

Alexia forced herself to look back at you, her eyes locking with her favourite pair of orbs. “I want you for worse or for better, mi amor, and I would wait forever for you. I know I broke your heart, but I promise I'll put it back together.”

You had a smile on your lips and your eyebrow raised after Alexia’s last sentence and Alexia wanted to celebrate internally because maybe Taylor Swift was a genius after all.

But when you didn’t say anything else, Alexia’s smile dropped and she had to accept that you could very well reject her. It had been months. A lot could happen in three months.

Alexia could feel the start of pain in her chest but then you laughed and Alexia’s eyes widened because why would you be laughing if you were going to reject her?

“You love me,” you stated.

Alexia was still staring at you. “I do…”

You went closer to her until your hands were back cupping Alexia’s face and that was when Alexia realized that you weren't rejecting her. Holy shit.

“You dummy,” your tone was light but Alexia turned serious.

“I know,” Alexia sucked in a deep breath. “I was a terrible girlfriend, amor. I don’t know how you loved me when all I did was mess up, but I promise that I’ll be better if you—”

“We all mess up,” you interjected. “We’re not perfect, baby. And you’re gonna mess up again in the future and I will too, but we’ll get through it together.”

Alexia was silent, taking in your words. “So uhm,” Alexia had to contain herself from grinning from ear-to-ear. “You still want to be with me?”

Instead of answering, you leaned down and kissed her. Alexia let herself grin into the kiss and she swore that she would do whatever it takes to never lose you again.

—

Ale: I got the girl *insert smiling face with sunglasses emoji*

Albs: what

Albs: just use the emoji wtf weirdo

Ale: Thank you, Taylor Swift

Albs: you’re seriously so weird

Albs: how are we related?

Albs: but anyway congratulations 

Albs: you won’t end up as a cat lady after all :D

Ale: Fuck off, Alba. You know I’m allergic to cats

—

** INTERVIEW NOTES:

ALEXIA PUTELLAS

SHE SMELLS NICE Y/N !!! FOCUS

VERY SERIOUS, ONLY LAUGHED ONCE

JUST TOLD HER TO SMILE MORE BECAUSE SHE HAS A PRETTY SMILE WILL SHE KICK ME OUT

SHE LIKES TACOS ??? IS THIS EVEN IMPORTANT 

SMART, INTELLIGENT, VERY ELOQUENT WITH WORDS !!! JUST TAKE MY HEART ALREADY ALEXIA PUTELLAS 

HER EYES CRINKLE WHEN SHE LAUGHS OMFG ADORABLE

I THINK I’M IN LOVE

SHE JUST ASKED ME WHAT I’M WRITING DOWN

BYE

—

a/n: this was a looong one hope you enjoyed it, loves !!! please let me know your thoughts :) :) :)

[mariclerc]

Dad duties | cl16

Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, just dad!charles, a little emotional, instant crush and FLUFF, pure fluff.

a/n: Hii, a long time ago I was thinking about doing a story about what Charles would be like as a single dad... Something crazy, I know, but I hope you like it!! Let me know if you want a part two of this <3

Part 2 Part 3

Sun gleams off the turquoise water, gentle waves lap at the shore. You walk along the beach, toes sinking into the warm sand. Giggles suddenly catches your attention, you turn to see a little girl, barely a year old, with bright eyes and a head full of messy curls, crawling determinedly towards you. She reaches you, grabbing a handful of your sundress. You smile, kneeling down to her level.

“Hey there, little one. You seem a little bit lost.”

The girl babbles happily, reaching for your sunglasses. You chuckle and gently remove them, placing them on top of your head.

A shadow falls over you. You look up to see a tall, handsome man with kind greenish eyes and sun-streaked hair... He looks slightly flustered.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry, that's my little escape artist Ava, come here to Papa munchkin.” He smiles apologetically.

Ava squeals and reaches for him. He scoops her up effortlessly, her tiny giggles filling the air.

“Don't worry, she's adorable! How old is she?” you asked.

“One year old, going on a hundred!” He winces as Ava grabs a fistful of his hair. You can't help but laugh. “Ouch, sweetie that hurts!” He says and Ava giggles.

“Looks like she has you all wrapped around her little finger.”

“Definitely.” he chuckles.

He introduces himself as Charles, you tell him your name. To your surprise, the conversation flows easily, you learn he's a single dad, the love and devotion evident in his gaze as he talks about Ava. He opens up about his complicated relationship with his ex (Ava's mother), the challenges of dating as a single parent. You listen intently, impressed by his honesty and dedication to his daughter.

“You seem to be doing a great job, Charles. And that's impressive, you know, how hard you work and try to be the best every day for her.” you smile.

Ava snuggles closer to him, burying her face in his neck.

“I manage to do a good job... It's definitely a handful, but she's worth it all.” he smiles.

A comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at him, then quickly look away, cheeks warming. You sense a similar flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.

“Well, maybe I should let you get back to building sandcastles with your princess.” You say with a bit of haste.

“Actually, I was wondering... Would you maybe, I don't know, maybe... Want to grab some ice cream with us sometime? Ava loves company, and frankly, so do I.” He speaks hurriedly.

You feel a flutter in your chest. This unexpected encounter has taken a sweet turn. “I'd love to. Thanks!” you smile.

Ava lets out a delighted squeal, as if sensing the possibility of ice cream, You and Charles giggle at her reaction.

“Great! How about next Saturday? Same place? How does that sound?”

You nod. “Sounds perfect.”

He smiles, you can see how the corners of his eyes wrinkle, something very cute for you. “Perfect... Ehm, here! Write down your number and I'll write down mine.” He says as he takes out his cell phone to give it to you and you take yours out of your beach bag to hand it to him.

You wrote your number on his cell phone with the name of: "y/n the life-saver 🎀". When he finishes he gives you your cell phone back and you see that he has registered himself as: "Charles the handsome dad 😋" you can't help but laugh at the name.

“Well, then I'll write to you to keep in touch... Handsome dad.” You say with a giggle and he blushes.

Ava yawns, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.

“I think someone's getting tired.” you giggle while looking at Ava.

“She probably is. Sand and sunshine can be exhausting for little ones.” He says and then smiles a little. “This was unexpected... But so nice.” he says quietly.

“Yeah, definitely nice!” you say meeting his warm gaze.

A blush creeps up Charles' neck as he finally pulls back slightly.

“See you next Saturday then, Y/N, it was nice to meet you!”

You smile. “It was also nice to meet you both!”

He nods, a goodbye lingering in his eyes. Charles walks away, cradling a sleepy Ava in his arms, you watch them go, a warm feeling spreading through you. This chance encounter has blossomed into something promising, and as you turn towards your car, a smile lingers on your lips. The beach seems a little brighter now, filled with the promise of sunshine, ice cream, and maybe, just maybe, something more.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's a text message. You pull it out, expecting a message from a friend, but your heart skips a beat when you see the name displayed on the screen - Charles the handsome dad 😋.

Charles the handsome dad 😋: Ava just fell asleep. She kept asking for "y/n." Any chance you have a favorite ice cream flavor? Trying to win some brownie points for Saturday afternoon.

A laugh escapes your lips. He's charming, that's for sure. You quickly type a response.

y/n the life-saver 🎀: Chocolate chip cookie dough, always! And tell Ava I said goodnight. See you on Saturday cha!

You hit send and a warm feeling washes over you. This unexpected encounter has taken a delightful turn, and with a giddy anticipation for saturday's ice cream date, you turn back towards the ocean. The waves seem to whisper a promise of something exciting to come, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection might lead.

***

The cheerful clinking of spoons against ice cream sundaes fills the air. You sit across from Charles at a brightly colored table, a giant chocolate chip cookie dough sundae melting in front of you. Ava, nestled comfortably in a high chair, digs into a kid-sized strawberry sundae with a look of pure bliss.

He chuckles “Looks like someone's enjoying their treat.”

Ava lets out a happy gurgle, a smear of red adorning her cheek. You laugh, you leaned towards her to wipe her cheek.

“She's definitely got a sweet tooth.” you say while wiping her cheek.

Charles takes a bite of his own sundae, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just like her dad. Thanks for the recommendation, this cookie dough ice cream it's fantastic!” he smiles.

“My pleasure, I'm glad you both like it.”

Ava reaches out, grabbing a stray piece of cookie dough from your sundae. You laugh, helping her bring it to her mouth.

“Careful, little one, that's a big bite!”

Charles watches the interaction between you and Ava, a smile playing on his lips.

“You seem to have a way with kids.” He says softly while looking at the two of you with adoration.

You shrug. “I guess so, I have a younger brother, so I've had my fair share of practice.”

The conversation flows easily between bites of ice cream, you learn more about Charles' life as a single dad, the challenges and rewards that come with it, he talks about his passion for racing, a twinkle in his eyes as he describes his dream of one day competing professionally. You share your own dreams and aspirations, surprised at how comfortable you feel opening up to him.

As Ava starts to get cranky, signaling the need for a nap, you suggest taking a walk along the nearby park. Charles readily agrees.

A comfortable silence settles between you. You both steal glances at each other, the unspoken attraction hanging heavy in the air. You reach the edge of the park, the familiar beach stretching before you.

“Looks like we're back where it all began.” you blush slightly.

“It does, doesn't it? Funny how things work out.” he smiles.

He stops walking, turning to face you. Ava lets out a whimper in her sleep, prompting Charles to gently bounce her in his arms.

“This was... so nice, I mean, this sweet afternoon and last week at the beach, it's very... Unexpected, but very good.” He says quietly with a smile on his face.

You meet his gaze, your heart fluttering in your chest.

You smiled. “I also liked it! Ava's such a sweetheart, and you seem like... a good guy, a really good and nice guy.”

He smiles back, a genuine warmth radiating from his eyes.

“I, uh... I was wondering if maybe, sometime next week, you'd like to have dinner? Just the two of us, after Ava's asleep?” He says with a bit of hesitation.

Your stomach does a nervous flip-flop, but a wide smile stretches across your face.

“I'd like that very much Charles.”

A wave of relief washes over Charles. He leans forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.

“Great... In that case, how about I give you a proper goodbye this time?” He says with a bit of flirtation in his voice.

Before you can respond, he leans in further, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is brief, sweet, and filled with unspoken promise.

Ava lets out a startled gurgle, breaking the spell. Charles pulls back with a laugh, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Looks like our little chaperone wants to get home.” he chuckles and blushes.

“Seems that way.” you giggled while blushing.

He walks you back to your car, Ava snuggled contentedly against his chest.

“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it safe. And maybe, just maybe, you can tell me what your favorite dinner is.” He says while blushing a little.

You laugh a little bit. “Don't worry, you'll be very well fed.”

He smiles, a hint of something deeper lingering in his gaze. You wave goodbye as he drives away with Ava, a warmth spreading through your chest. The unexpected encounter at the beach has blossomed into something exciting, and as you watch the sun disappear over the horizon, you can't wait to see where this new path might lead.

[stark-ironman]

I need Hugh who is needy but the reader is a bit of a bully because maybe she’s jealous or something idk I need him under me pretty please

Needy (Hugh's turn)

18+ No Minors

Warnings: jealousy, oral (f recieving), face sitting

It's the annual Christmas party that Hugh throws every year, inviting all of his good friends over to share a meal and a nice little get together which you both look forward to every year. That is until one of Hugh's old co-stars was invited and she's taken it upon herself to follow Hugh around like she's a lost puppy.

You tried to bring it up to him in a quiet, nice way but all he wanted to do was reassure you that he wasn't going anywhere and that he would never leave you.

So here you are, standing with a group of friends, staring at your boyfriend laughing at a joke the girl just told. Jealousy pours through your veins and you're pretty sure everybody can tell from the look on your face but they don't dare to bring it up.

"Y/N, you know Hugh would never hurt you. He's a nice, loyal guy who's too oblivious when someone flirts with him." Ryan tries to simmer your anger but it doesn't work. "It's not him I'm mad at. It's the bitch standing next to him who knows he's taken." You grit through your teeth, watching as the girl places a hand on Hugh's stomach, leaning into him while laughing.

That's it. You start walking over there, hearing Ryan mumble an oh shit, slide in between Hugh and the girl, hugging him tightly as he leans down to kiss you. "There's my girl. I've missed you." Hugh smiles, looking down at you. "Ryan started a debate so I had to prove him wrong," You both laugh and you look over to the girl, "So, who's this?" "This is Cindy. She worked on the Greatest Showman in the make up department." He tells you.

"Nice to meet you. Even though Hugh and I was having a conversation before you interrupted." The girl says and you look at her with a scowl. "Oh, you mean the conversation where you was placing your hand on my man?" You innocently ask, feeling Hugh tense up.

"If he was your man then you shouldn't be off with other guys at a party he throws." She fakes a smile. "And if you wasn't such a slut then you would have done what every other woman who was invited tonight has done and that not flirt and put their hands all over him."

"I didn't hear him telling me to stop so that's on him." She shrugs and it makes your blood boil. Hugh grabs your hand, pulling you close to him and you sigh. "The fact that you prey on men who don't realize you're flirting with them is sad. No one should have to be that desperate for a piece of dick to sit here and go after someone who is in a happy relationship, especially when there's plenty of other single guys here. Now, either you leave or I call security and force you to leave." You state, pulling Hugh away from the girl as you walk away.

He follows you closely, desperately trying to get your attention but you don't give him any until you're outside. "Love, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was flirting with me." He tries to explain as you lean against the balcony. You ignore him, noticing he's starting to fidget with his fingers.

"You know I only want you. I've wanted you from the moment we met 4 years ago. Please forgive me." He whimpers, feeling his heart shatter at the look you give him. "I watched you two for two hours. Two! And you let her touch you. Touch what's mine." Your voice raises and you notice he starts picking at his fingers harder.

"I told her to stop but she wouldn't. I was only trying to be nice because nobody would talk to her." Hugh whispers at the end and you finally take a moment to look into his eyes, seeing him on the verge of breaking down.

You walk over, grabbing his hands and kiss them softly. "I'm sorry I got so jealous. I don't like it when people touch you, especially ones who know I'm there and do it just to see what will happen." He hugs you tightly, kissing the top of your head.

"I really didn't know she was flirting with me. I don't know what I thought it was but the only person I care about is you. The only person I love is you. You never have to worry about me leaving you for somebody else." His voice is full of sincerity, causing you to bury yourself in his chest.

You both stay there for a moment before you straighten up and grab his hand again. "I think I'm going to head to bed but you can go back to the party if you want to." You say, walking back inside. "I'm going to tell everyone to go home. It's late and I want to cuddle." Hugh states, causing you to laugh. "Alright, I'll go wait for you."

You both head your separate ways and on the way to the bedroom, you get an idea in your mind to remind Hugh just who he really belongs to. You strip down to your lace lingere, smiling softly as you wait for Hugh.

Once he walks in the door, you hear his breath catch when he sees you. "Fuck.." He moans, walking towards you and reaching out but you stop him, smirking. "I want you to undress and get on the bed." You tell him and he immediately begins to undress, keeping his eyes on you as he slides up to the pillows.

You crawl on top of him, his hand instinctively grabbing your hips while you lean down to kiss him. "I'm going to show that bitch and everybody else that your mine. Understood?" You ask, hearing a whimper in response so you ask again, this time with him answering you.

Your mouth ghosts over his neck, causing goosebumps to raise before you bite down on one spot, moving slightly down as you leave a trail of hickeys down his neck. He grinds against you softly, moaning your name out loudly. "There you go, my needy baby. Use your voice and tell me what you need."

"I need you.. always you." A groan falls from his lips as you move further down his body. "You sure you don't want the girl who was all over you tonight?" You ask, looking up at him. "No, love. I only want you."

You slide your panties off, climbing back up to kiss him softly. "I'm going to sit on your face and you're going to show me how bad you need me." You state as he takes a deep, stuttering breath, watching you move to hover over him and he wraps his arms around your legs, flattening his tongue against your heat, lapping up any trace of wetness before closing his mouth down on your clit, causing you to moan out.

He moans while he sucks and pulls on your sensitive area, pulling away at times to flick his tongue over it as well, causing you to grip his forearms tightly. You look down to see him staring up at you with need, feeling a burst of love shoot through your body.

The way he starts eating you out is messy, hungry, with a deep rumble coming from him. You fight the urge to grind against his tongue, trying to stay composed with authority but you can feel it slowly slipping away.

He moves down, sliding his tongue inside of you as he moves his hand up to your clit, letting his long fingers press against your heat, rubbing in a sweet, swift motion.

"Fuck, Hugh..." You moan, gripping his hair as a familiar feeling rushes their your stomach. Before you can warn him, your orgasm sweeps through you but he doesn't move, in fact, he tries to move deeper into your heat.

Letting you ride it out, you slide down to his stomach and see him staring up at you with those love-filled eyes, and his mouth covered in your juices.

"Don't ever question my love for you, darling. If you knew how much you consumed my thoughts, you would never worry about anything. I'm all yours." He rubs your thighs. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so jealous." You say, running your hand through his hair.

"Don't be sorry. It was honestly sexy watching you get pissed at her." Hugh laughs, licking lips before continuing, "Now, lay on your back and let me have my turn."

[kkuramyeons]

five times – idol!sakura miyawaki x idol!reader

⋆ four times the idol wanted to give you her number + the one time she did.

pairing: sakura miyawaki x gidle!reader

info: idol! x idol! au, reader is a 00’ liner, and has been down bad for sakura for years despite being known as a playgirl amongst the industry, sakura is also down bad but can’t seem to take the hint or make a move, pining, fluff, gay panic.

wordcount: 2.2k

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆ ⋆

i.  the people are talking (let them talk)

“y/n-nnie! tell neverland what you’re most excited about attending the golden disk awards!” ushered minnie as she waved you over to where staff where recording a behind the scenes for your channel’s I-talk.

“aside from our $$$ perfomance and award nomination… i’m very excited to see if I can meet iz*one, i’m a big fan!” you excitedly replied as you sat down on the couch next to minnie.

“oh, is that so?” the older girl smirked as she watched you get flustered at her answer.

before you could reply, a booming voice came from the other side of the room, “yah! y/n-nnie is only excited because she has a huge crush on saku-“ yuqi started, but was cut off by soojin, who ushered her to stop teasing you.

“yah! stop teasing, unnie!” came your reply as your face flushed red, almost having your private business aired to the public.

the teasing continued in the background between you and yuqi while minnie, shuhua and soojin tried to distract the camera by answering more questions and making conversation.

⁂

flashes and shouts from the paparazzi filled the air as iz*one made their way towards the red carpet of the 33rd golden disk awards, excitement buzzing through the members as they posed for the cameras, directed by the mc.

after expressing their feelings on the rookie award nomination, and striking some more poses, the group made their way down the carpet and into the venue, as fans and more paparazzi shouted questions at them.

as sakura made her way behind hyewon, someone had asked her what she thought about g-idle’s performance the day before, to which she curtly replied that she loved it, mentioning your short rap as her favorite part of the performance.

finally, inside the venue, sakura sat down in her assigned seat, when chaeyeon asked if she knew you.

“eh?” came the reply from the japanese idol.

“i’m just saying, someone told me y/n unnie is fond of you. if you want to meet her, just let me know,” shrugged the blonde.

“are you guys talking about y/n?” came a hushed whisper from nako. “i heard she’s  already in a dating rumor with a trainee from jyp, you should be careful with a girl like that unnie.”

“i don’t even know her, she’s just interesting, that’s all” sakura replied, playing with the gem of her dress.

“well, she seems sweet. so, if you ever want to meet her, just let me know,” replied chaeyeon as the conversation switched topics.

“maybe I will,” mumbled sakura, switching her attention to the start of the award show, trying to pay no mind to the hushed whispers around her.

ii.  the puppy interview

after months of hard work and preparing for a comeback, calvin klein had contacted you to become a brand ambassador, with the opportunity to work alongside other idols and well-known photographers in the industry.

you had ambassador offers from gucci, fendi, and savage x fenti, to name a few. known for your visuals, rapping and producer skills (often called a mini soyeon because of this), you wanted something else to add to your list of things you brought to the table. when working with a label like cube, you had to be prepared to keep the lights on in the building, alongside your members, of course.

and that’s how you ended up doing some solo promotions in the states, as well as promoting your first english single and collaboration with calvin klein.

you sat in a blank set, sitting on the floor with a pastel pink backdrop in the back, trying to make sure every puppy in front of you was equally petted and cared for.

“ah! this is a good question, and believe it or not, I don’t think we get this one very often,” you said in an amused tone as you read it out loud to the cameras in front of you.

“who’s your celebrity crush?” smirking, you picked up one of the puppies and set it in your lap, while grabbing another to do the same.

“hm, I would have to say sakura from le sserafim. she recently changed her hair and I think it makes her look very beautiful. really brings out her eyes,” you mused, hands already busy with searching for another question from the bowl, excited to see how your members and fans would react to the answer.

⁂

the le sserafim members were all sat around a table, cameras pointed at them as they read some comments on live while eating several snacks.

“oh! kkura unnie!” exclaimed eunchae with a grin as she passed snacks to kazuha who accepted them with open arms.

“hm?” came the short reply from the oldest member.

“someone is asking how you reacted at y/n sunbaenim revealing that you were her celebrity crush!”

suddenly, four pair of eyes were on the oldest member, since everyone knew about sakura’s evident crush on you.

“eh?! oh… i was very flattered,” the oldest replied while seemingly trying to keep herself busy with some chips, as her face flushed from the sudden attention on her.

“you should exchange numb-“ yunjin’s loud reply from the other side of the table came, chaewon quickly cutting her off with reading another comment from the section, not really wanting any of her members in a dating scandal so early into their career as a group.

sakura spared a thankful glance at the leader, thinking that maybe, yunjin was right, and that she should remind herself to ask chaewon to give miyeon her number so she could pass it on to you.

iii.  run in at hybe

“they really had to leave me in the back of this building, damn” you grumbled as you made your way through the back corridors of the hybe building, in search of the studio where new jeans would be at, so you could help them record some songs for their upcoming album.

after walking around the same spot for a few minutes, you impatiently grabbed your phone from your pocket and started searching for the other producer’s number so you could ask for directions, seeing as your incredible sense of direction was getting you nowhere.

what you didn’t account for though, was literally bumping into what you thought was a wall while you made your way inside the building with your nose stuck in your phone.

“i’m so sorry for bumping into you like that!” exclaimed a voice, hand outstretched to help you up from the floor.

“oh! that’s …” you trailed off, staring up at big doe eyes while you got up from the floor.

regaining your composure and with both feet planted on the floor, you gave an amused grin to the woman in front you.

“it’s a pleasure to finally see you in person, sakura,” you greeted, bowing your head at the older idol.

flustered and with the tip of her ears turning red, the black-haired woman let out a weak chuckle before greeting you back, asking if you needed any directions or any help from her.

when you explained your visit’s purpose, sakura wasted no time in directing you to where new jeans would be at, making small talk on the way to the recording room.

the older woman dropped you off a few doors down from your destination, since her practice room was on the way, and she needed to get back to her training schedule.

watching as your figure entered the studio, she slowly started to enter her designated practice room, pausing when you winked at her before closing the door to the studio and making your way fully inside.

arriving back to practice all red and flustered, sakura slid inside the practice room and leaned against the nearest wall, sighing with her right hand on her chest, near her heart, trying to control her erratic heartbeat as she processed what had just happened, and how she didn’t get your number- again.

iv.  jennifer huh strikes again

“okay, hanni , could you sing that line again? I want it to sound more light, airy even.” you instructed the new jeans member from the other side of the recording booth, after volunteering to help produce one of your written songs and another track for the group’s debut album.

you received a thumbs up, which was a signal that the younger idol was ready to give it another go.

“meet me back in five if i matter… to you,” sang the idol, meeting your eyes after that last take.

“perfect! it’s exactly how i pictured it sounding in my head!” came your reply in the recording booth, as you all headed outside the booth for a much-needed break after a day of introductions and recordings. you made it clear to the team behind the album that you wanted the members involved in the process of creating their album, even offering them a chance to write and edit some of your drafts.

“i’ll get some coffee and i’ll be back in 15 to wrap up for today,” you said as you passed the younger idols, with everyone’s coffee orders in hand.

once you opened the door to leave, you were met with jet black hair and a tall female figure at the door.

“hello! y/n sunbaenim! my name is huh yunjin from le sserafim, and after hearing you were here today, I wanted to introduce myself and give you my number to see if you would be interested in helping me produce and record one of my songs,” said the idol with a deep bow.

“oh! hello yunjin. it’s something i might be interested in. since i’m in a rush today, let me give you my number and just text me the demos you have so far and I’ll listen when I can and get back to you, does that sound good?”

the younger girl rapidly nodded her head while shaky hands wrote down your contact information.

with a wave and a small smile, you made your way to the nearest cafe.

yunjin quickly texted the group chat, in disbelief that she actually succeeded her goal.

still a bit nervous from the interaction, yunjin giggled as sakura’s reply lit up her screen.

from: hot girl yunjin

to fearless idols

i’ve done in five minutes what sakura couldn’t do in three years.

from: gaymer kkura

to: fearless idols

i hope the label doesn’t mind having four members.

from: cutest maknae

to: fearless idols

no unnie don’t leave us! T.T

from: gaymer kkura

to: fearless idols

who said i was the one leaving?

v. eunchae’s star diary

after wrapping up the interview with shuhua, eunchae looked around to see if the staff were focused on the two maknaes, but since everyone was busy giving thank yous and

wrapping up, the black-haired girl moved towards her guest with a piece of paper in between her index finger and thumb.

“shuhua unnie! thank you so much for being on the show, I have something to give you before you leave!” the youngest of the two exclaimed as she walked the raven-haired girl outside the filming room.

“ah, eunchae-ssi, thank you for the invitation. that reminds me, I have something for you as well!” the oldest smiled, pulling a piece of crumbled paper out of her hoodie pocket.

eunchae’s eyes widened in anticipation, as she reminded herself of the task at hand, which was to get her oldest unnie a girlfriend (hopefully).

“this is from y/n-nnie, for sakura sunbae,” shuhua whispered as she handed the paper slip to eunchae.

“oh! this is from sakura unnie to y/n sunbaenim as well!” eunchae grinned as both maknaes exchanged paper slips.

“huh, who would’ve thought they had the guts to contact each other,” shuhua giggled as she looked at eunchae with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“mhm, who wouldve thought. good for them though, right?” asked eunchae as she smirked at the oldest of the two.

“mhm. good for them…” shuhua trailed off, being waved over by her manager, signaling that it was time to leave.

“well! thank you again eunchae! you have my number if you need anything! i’m positive we succeeded this time! fighting!” trailed off shuhua as she made her way to the exit along the long corridor.

the youngest giggled at her antics and waved her off, delighted that her plan would surely succeed.

+1 bonus:

from: unknown

hey, it’s sakura. eunchae said shuhua gave me your number?

to: sakura the loml

we meet again, sakura-ssi. funny thing, shuhua said eunchae gave her your number to pass along to me. it’s interesting how things work out, huh?  

[stvrlightgirl]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part four

part one, part two, part three

summary: After the date, you can’t help but overthink every aspect of it, turns out it was just your mind playing tricks on you, and good men still exists.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, crying, overthinking.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I am so grateful for all of your likes, reblogs and comments guys, it truly gives me the power to continue this series, because I know that there is someone who actually like what I write, lov u <3

Enjoy! taglist masterlist

"She was amazing. I mean, I’ve never met someone like her, you know? She’s just different in a good way.” He sighed.

After your last date, he couldn't stop thinking about you. Almost a week had passed, and your relationship was blossoming faster than he thought it would, but he certainly had no complaints. Now, he saw you nearly every day when you dropped off Molly at school. Somehow, he always managed to be nearby, and your eyes would meet unexpectedly, as if it was meant to happen. You exchanged messages a few times a day, and without fail, he always sent you a good morning and goodnight message, no matter what he was doing. Grading papers, going to bed? Not without sending you a "Goodnight, sweetheart. Hope you had a good day."

After all that happened, he wasn’t so shy anymore. Instead, he wanted to make you blush every time he saw you. You just looked so cute when your cheeks started to get red after a minute of him speaking without breaking eye contact.

"You dozed off again, mate” Sirius snapped him out of his lethargy with his irritated voice. "She got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” A smirk appeared on his face, when he saw how Remus’s eyes started gleaming.

Remus took a sip of his bear and leaned against the chair.

It was one of their favorite haunts, a cozy pub with dark wooden furnishings and a comforting, lived-in feel. The bubbling hum of conversation and the low strumming of a live acoustic guitar warmth the room.

"And you don't even notice," he added after a moment, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Maybe…but I don’t think I want to notice.” He chuckled.

The truth was, yeah. You got him wrapped around his finger, and it’s was scary, because he wanted more and more everyday, and it was a dangerous game to play.

"Give yourself a chance, Moony," he said, leaning forward on the table. "It's now or never. From what I've heard she's really something special. Girls like her don't come around often." He gave him a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, you should know something about it.” He snorted sarcastically.

"Oh come on, I sleep around because I didn’t found the one, yet, so don’t judge me, that’s my way to do this!”

Remus shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I know, Sirius. But maybe, just maybe, it's time to think about changing your ways."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Look who's talking. Mr. Commitment himself. Just because you've found someone special doesn't mean everyone's that lucky."

"True," Remus admitted. "But luck has nothing to do with it. Sometimes, it's about taking a chance."

Sirius took a long sip of his drink, pondering Remus's words. "Maybe you're right," he said finally, drifting off to his own thoughts for a second.

"But I’m giving this chance, definitely.” Remus said after a while, and then the two of them took a long sip of their beers.

"Cheers to that, then.”

"I’m giving this a chance, Marlene but I’m scared to make mistake, it’s so frustrating.”

You sat on your couch, talking on your phone with Marlene. You had been replaying the date over and over in your head, analyzing every little detail. Though you had genuinely enjoyed yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. Then she called you. A true miracle for your sorrows.

Were you ready to start dating again? Could you balance a new relationship with the demands of being a mom? These questions swirled in your mind, refusing to be silenced.

"Girl, sometimes you think too much, just let go already! He’s a fine man, the most decent you’ll probably find ever, so where’s all this doubt coming from him?"

"It’s different, I have a daughter, and I don’t want her to suffer, when he decides I’m not the one.” Your lips quivered, and you wanted to cry.

She sighed, making a comfortable pause.

"Babes, I know it's scary, but sometimes it's worth it. Besides, didn't he make it clear on the date that he liked where this is going? Maybe you should just message him and see for yourself, maybe you should just talk to him, it’s a key to connection.”

"I just don’t want to mess this up, Marl," you whispered, rubbing your eyes with your fingers.

”And you won’t, trust me.”

The sound of small footsteps interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Molly standing in the doorway, clutching her favorite stuffed animal, a well-loved bunny named Floppy.

"Mommy, why are you still awake?" Molly asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes.

"I have to go, Molly just woke up.” you said, ending the call with a quick goodbye. You placed your phone on the coffee table and sighed.

Then, you managed a smile, patting the spot next to you on the couch. "Just thinking about grown-up stuff, sweetie. Come here, sweetie.”

Molly trotted over and climbed onto the couch, snuggling up next to you. “Is it about Mr. Lupin?" She whispered, rubbing her tired eyes.

Caught off-guard, you looked down at Molly, who gazed up at you with innocent curiosity. You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes, it is." You sigh.

Molly's face brightened. "I like him, Mommy. He's nice and tells funny stories in class."

You felt a lump form in her throat. "I'm glad you like him, Molly. I think I like him too.” You whisper the last part to yourself.

Molly yawned, nuzzling her stuffed bunny. “If you like him, then why are you sad?”

You lowered your gaze to meet hers, and with a gentle movement, you extended your arm to pull her toward you, drawing her close as she snuggled into your side.

“It’s nothing sweetie. Mommy’s okay.” You smiled encouragingly. “It was just a tough day.”

"Can we read a story before bed then?” Molly asked, her eyes already drooping but filled with hope.

"Course!" you exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm, lifting her gently into your arms. "We need to find out where the little prince will be doing today!" With a grin, you carried her towards her bedroom.

She let out a joyous giggle as you spun her around in your arms, creating a gentle breeze between you. Her laughter filled the air, and a grin spread across your face as you continued to move towards her bedroom.

Once Molly was tucked comfortably under the warmth of her blanket, you selected one of her favorite books and started to read aloud. As you flipped through the pages, your thoughts began to drift towards Remus, and despite your best efforts to focus on the story, his face kept appearing in your mind, his smile and gentle demeanor tugging at your heartstrings.

On the other side, your thoughts were a whirlwind of mixed emotions. Ever since you had returned from the date, a battle was raging in your mind. You couldn't deny how perfect the moment had been between the two of you, but the lingering fear of facing the same heartache and letdown again was clouding your judgment. Despite the growing feeling in your chest, the thought of opening yourself up to potential pain felt overwhelmingly terrifying.

After a short while, you glanced down at Molly and noticed she was fast asleep. Smiling warmly, you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her head. Quietly, you made your way back to the living room, settling onto the couch as you grabbed your phone. Your finger hovered over Remus's contact, an internal debate unfolding within you. Should you text him or not?

Fuck it, your mind screamed.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you started typing a message and without further thinking you hit send.

“Hey, I know it’s late. Just wanted to say goodnight.”

Fuck, why did you do it in the first place anyway, he probably won’t answ-

And then you saw three dots blinking.

“Hey, everything’s alright?”

Your fingers froze as you pondered your reply.

”Yeah, why?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

”Can I come over? Just for a minute.”

You felt tears gathering in your eyes, and It took him a second after your reply to realize you weren’t okay.

”Please.”

He was there after 15 minutes of walk, knocking on your door at 11 pm at night. Was he crazy? Maybe, but he couldn’t care less when you gave him such weird text. Maybe you didn’t want to take this thing between you any further? Oh god that’s was the worst scenario.

When you unlocked the door, he saw you looking miserable, with tired eyes that spoke of sleepless night. You hesitated as you stared at him, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Then he really looked at you and saw that your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Those pretty eyes sad, with something he couldn’t decipher. Something inside him broke at the sight, and he knew he had to do something to make it better.

“Y/N?”

“I…”

“Can I come in or is it too much right now?” He asked with a soft voice that made you shed a single tear down your cheek as you felt the warmth of his concern.

He was too good for you, but you loved it more than anything.

“Yes, you can.”

You stepped aside from the entrance, and he moved closer, gently closing the door behind him. As he approached, his eyes softened with concern, and you could feel the comfort of his presence wrapping around you.

”What’s going on, can I help somehow?” His voice carried a hint of panic at seeing you so upset, but he was determined to face it.

”I’m just…I’m so scared, I don’t want to even think about it anymore.” Your voice trembled, and with it, your tears began to fall. You pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself, seeking comfort, but it did little to ease your misery.

”C’mere.” He stepped closer, his hands gently reaching for your waist. When you leaned in, burying your face in his chest, he felt a lump form in his throat. As your tears continued to fall, he had to gulp, struggling to keep his composure. The sight of you so vulnerable and upset pierced his heart, and despite the comforting embrace he offered, he couldn’t help but feel a deep ache inside. He wished he could take away your pain, holding you tighter as if his warmth alone could make everything right.

His palms gently moved to your back, pressing you closer until you were completely enveloped in his embrace. From the outside, it must have looked incredibly sweet, with you looking so small and delicate in his arms, like he was trying to shield you from the world, but now, all he could think about were your cries, each one tugging at his heart.

“What are you scared of, hm?” He whispered softly, waiting for a while as your cries began to quiet down.

”I just down want to fuck this up.” You confessed softly, your words still muffled against his chest as you kept your face hidden. He held you tighter, his heartbeat steady and reassuring against your cheek, fingers gently brushing through your hair.

”This?” He sounded confused.

”Us.” You added.

And then it clicked.

”Can you look at me, sweetheart?” He reached for your face, and when he managed to finally look in your eyes again, he couldn’t help but gather your tears with his thumb. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm hands against your skin, nearly melting away and momentarily forgetting everything on your mind.

Were you this touch starved? Pathetic.

"It’s so stupid, actually," you began. ”We were just on our first date, and now I’ve probably scared you off. You must think I’m some psycho who—"

“Hey, that’s not what I think, and you shouldn’t either. Don’t ever call yourself a psycho again,” he said, his gaze softening. It pained him to hear you label yourself like that.

“You don’t?” You gave him look of a scared little lost child.

Fuck, what did you do to him?

“I know that you’re scared for Molly, I can see it in your eyes every time we mention her, but it’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay, and to be scared. Sometimes I’m scared of fucking things up too. I want it to be right for both of us, for Molly. It might be too early, but I care about you, and I don’t mean no harm when I say I’m ready to explore things between us further, whenever you are ready, at your pace, no bullshit. I’m not like this, Y/N.”

You listened with a mix of shock and curiosity as he spoke, each word planting seeds of hope and warmth in your heart. His sincerity and the depth of his feelings started to dissolve the fears that had clouded your mind. You could feel that familiar warmth growing inside you, a comforting reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. His reassurance and patience began to heal the doubts you had, filling you with a renewed sense of possibility and trust.

“Are you even real?” you chuckled, a bit amazed.

He returned your smile and squeezes your waist playfully.

The tense atmosphere shifted to something more relaxed.

“Well, you’re here, standing in my arms, that doesn’t feel real for you, dove?” He teased, giving you a small wink. That melted all of your doubts for now.

“So now that everything’s clear, maybe you should come in properly?” You looked at his watch, gently removing his one hand from your waist to look at it, which made him snort with a small laugh. “It’s not that late, honestly.”

“You think it’s a good idea? What about Molly? If she sees me, she might be in a slight shock.”

“She’s asleep. I read herThe Little Prince every night, and it gives her the sweetest dreams, so she’s probably in a really deep sleep right now.”

He considered your proposition for a moment, then nodded softly with a warm smile.

“Ok, just for a moment though. I have to go back to my place, you know?” He joked.

And then a moment turn into hours, and he found himself holding you on his chest, in your living room, snoring cutely, after a glasses of wine you insisted to share with him. You were tangled in a blanket which he eventually reached for, because you started to shiver a bit. As he was looking at you, he suddenly realised how quickly he become attached to you. And it scared him then, but now, it’s was something he could get used to.

He really saw himself every night with you in his arms, and that thing changed something in his mind, forever.

He wanted this to become truth, after years of being alone.

He finally felt happy.

taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @belle-blue @lovelylupin04 @moonyanddaisies @harryslimebike @mooonyxoxo @lydipop @idohknow @ahead-fullofdreams @spirit-of-the-hollow @aheadfullofsteverogers

[dionvsian]

theodore nott meeting the hogwarts cool girl !!

theodore nott x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: reader smokes cigarettes (srry if it makes you uncofortable!).

little note: back to writing! i used to have a blog here and i made the dumbest decision to delete it (i'll forever miss you timothée chalamet's fake instagram posts)

reblogs are appreciated 😁

“are you always this late?” he looked down, studying your face. You could see him taking in every single detail. as he did so, he lifted an eyebrow and waited for your reply. a small smirk played with the corner of his mouth. the kind of smirk you see someone do when they feel they are superior towards you. he did not know your name, at least not yet.

your silence caused him to continue: “I am theo. and you are?"

"I'm y/n"

"pleased to meet you y/n. my father always said that a name should mean something. it should reflect the person being named"

"i'm not really sure what my name means, but i hope is something nice!"

"are you a pure blooded witch?"

"yep" you say nodding

he seems satisfied with your answer. as if you somehow passed a test without even knowing it. he holds his hand out and introduces himself with a slight bow.

"i would say you look like an angel from heaven, but you look more like some punk girl who has trouble getting to class on time"

"i wasn't planning on going to class rn"

“oh! uhm, that can get you into trouble. you know.” he says. then he adds: “are you always so bold? it’s kind of cute.”

"i'm not bold, i'm just me"

he lets out a chuckle. "it’s the same thing. I’m guessing you are just very confident in yourself, hm?” he tilts his head a little and looks down at you. “it’s not a bad quality, and I suppose it makes for a good quality of a friend, don’t you think?”

"yeah maybe"

“you are not the quiet type, I bet. you are the one who likes to get things done.” he smiles, and leans in close to you. "you would do anything to achieve your goal. you must be one of the most popular girls at school. i bet many boys try to ask you out.” and he waits for you to respond. there is a glint in his eye as he stares at you, studying you.

a soft blush spreads on your cheeks "maybe... do you want to join them?" you say flirtatious

he smiles and leans closer, he is just a few inches away from you. you can feel the heat of his breath coming from his lips as he smiles.

“maybe I do.”

he waits for you to respond, just looking at your face, smiling. he is amused at the way you're blushing. but you cannot tell what the reason for that is. does he find you attractive? or does he find you a fool? he seems to be enjoying this a little too much, as you cannot tell what the outcome of this conversation will be.

you look up at him, since he is a bitt taller but you only gives a satisfied smirk

he is enjoying this attention he thinks. he leans in even closer to you and whispers in your ear.

"what are you thinking about right now?”

you let out some of the air that was inside your lungs "to be honest, I was thinking of smoking some cigarettes and painting my nails"

"you’re a naughty girl then. do you smoke cigarettes often?" he asks this in a way that implies he actually cares about the answer to the question. as if smoking cigarettes is a bad thing. or it's not?

"yeah, but don't tell anyone, ok? it will be our secret"

he seems amused by your response. he smiles and whispers again. this time his voice is even quieter

“a secret.” he whispers the last word and he has this smile on his face that says it is not a normal secret. the look on his face gives her the impression he thinks of something not entirely appropriate. “how many cigarettes are you planning to smoke today alone?”

"3? i'm not really sure"

again, he gives you this amused smile, and it seems he is actually a bit impressed. he is not used to seeing someone not care about the rules like she does.

“well, they say you gotta try everything once. you must get into trouble a lot. aren’t you afraid of detention?”

"no, plus I never get caught anyways". you say and smile for him "do you smoke?"

he seems surprised at the question. he shakes his head and says. “no, I have never smoked. my father makes sure i take care of my health. but he doesn’t say anything about my friends. I suppose you would have to hide it from him?” “how does it feel to smoke? will it feel good to try it for first time?”

"I don't want to be a bad influence for you" you chuckle "so I won't answer"

he seems to actually be thankful. as if you just saved him from doing something bad.

"thank you. If I start smoking today. I’s your fault though!” he laughs. then he asks. “what else do you do that is bad? or am I the only person that deserves to know about this side of you?”

he seems curious and even though the smile on his face remains as teasing as ever. you can see the look on his face is genuine. as if he actually wants to know about you more.

"talking about bad habits isn't exactly a good way to get to known someone new"

he laughs again. you notice how good his laugh is. he seems to do it a lot lately. he leans in again. you can smell his cologne when you get this close. “so, you are afraid I might judge you or something?”

he gives you a playful look and then adds: “i already said you were cute. so being a little naughty, does not make you any less cute." he says this playfully, and you can see that smile on his face again. he seems to enjoy teasing you.

you back on a wall of the corridor "it will affect your impression of me" but your heart skips a beat when he calls you cute

he seems to be enjoying the way you are backing up against the wall. as he can still clearly see just how pretty you are. he smiles at you, this time you can feel he is being genuine about the compliment. he gets closer to you though. he really thinks he is in charge here doesn't he?

“well, it only makes me want to know more about you. a girl who smokes cigarettes and isn't afraid of trouble... is a very rare breed these days.” he looks you up and down again. but this time with pure admiration.

"why don't you tell me what are y thinking abt?"

"you really are interested in me aren’t you?” he laughs after saying this. h thinks for a few seconds. he seems to be contemplating whether or not to disclose his thoughts to you.

"fine, I’ll tell you my thoughts. but you better not tell anyone else. I don’t want to lose my reputation.” he takes a deep breath. you can see he is nervous, and he is blushing a little.

he leans in closer and whispers in your ear "i’m wondering if you have ever kissed anyone before.”

he waits for you to respond, the same look on his lips. you sense a bit of smugness in his voice, as if he is convinced you have never kissed anyone before.

"of couse i did".

he seems surprised, and gives you a look. it’s the look a person gives you, when they know they are not in charge. you just gained a lot of power and superiority over him just now.

"what about you? have you ever kissed someone?"

he smiles, his cheeks are red now, and his whole face is blushing.

"y-yea I have.” he says it as if it’s difficult for him to admit it. your response seemed to have knocked him off his feet. his eyes are fixed to the floor, as if he is trying to decide what to do next.

you decide to shoot your shot being flirtatious"do you wanna kiss me?"

he looks up and seems shocked. he blushes even more as you say this, his cheeks are as red as a beet now. your confidence has made him completely speechless. he whispers so only you can hear his voice, while also pulling you closer into him. "may I?”

"yeah"

he leans in and gently kisses you on the lips. It’s sweet and gentle but very passionate. you notice just how soft his lips are.he is blushing as you kiss, and so do you. his lips are soft and smooth, you feel them against yours and you find the experience very calming and pleasant.

you place your hand on his cheek and they get even redder, as he continues to hold his lips against yours. he enjoys the kiss very much.

he breaks the kiss after a bit and looks at you. "that was nice.” a broad smile was on his lips. he looks so happy and full of life. you can see all the tension fall away as his shoulders slowly relax.

"well, i have to go to class now"youi say and unlean from the wall" see you" and you start walking away

"wait.” he calls out when you are already half way on your way to the potions class. "you are not telling anyone are you?”he still has that smile on his face and you can see that he wants to continue this conversation. he seems hooked to knowing more about you. He is obsessed. he wants to know what that "cool girl" energy of yours looks like, and how far you are willing to take things with him.

"of course not. i dont wanna be seen with the spoiled playboy theodore nott" you say and get into your classroom, not giving him the chance to say anything else.

he watches you leave. he is completely flabbergasted and speechless. he is not used to girls treating him like this. he has not noticed this side of you. theo is completely in love now. you are beautiful and mysterious in his eyes. he feels like he got a peek behind the curtains. a private performance.

he watches you leave and then continues to the potions classroom. he is lost in his thoughts, trying to piece together why you acted in the way you just did. you are not like any other girl he knows in Hogwarts. and he wants to know more.

[usedpidemo]

Tell your friends (Ive Yujin & Wonyoung)

—————

Thank you @capslocked for the input/advice <3

—————

“What do you think?” asks Yujin, casually, as you’re both walking up the long, winding stairs. A scenario you’re familiar with, but this is completely different from before.

“Of this place?” Your eyes wander around, scope out the surroundings like you’re evaluating real estate. “Eh, it’s fine—I mean, I’ve already been to your place and it’s really nice.”

“First time I’ve heard anyone call this place just fine.” Completely surprised at your reply, her eyes go wide, along with her jaw, as if you’ve said something taboo. “This place is no joke, it makes mine look like an average joe—just like you!”

“Hey.” Offended by her personal taunt, you counter, “At least I’m content with what I have instead of pouring needless amounts of money for this narcissistic shit.” 

She simply laughs off your retort. You’re not even trying. Part of the game is you actually playing along. “Gotta keep the image up, after all.”

“What image? That you’re slutting out every night for a ‘random nobody’ off the street?”

“If I wanted a random nobody off the street, I could have at least gotten someone with a bigger cock,” says Yujin, trying to get under your skin. This kind of banter should render you poisoned with all the toxicity, but you’re almost numb to it at this point. Her words hit hard, because she’s speaking the truth. Anyone else could be in your position right now, and you’re luckier than 99.9% of the people on this planet, because she’s still An Yujin—variety queen, fashion icon, and pop star—after all. “Or maybe someone who’s willing to rip through my clothes when I tell them to—”

“Yeah, I get it. You get new clothes that you’ll use for a week, only to stash them away in the storage.” Might as well put on those imaginary headphones to drown out the noise, but you’ve heard it so many times, your ears simply block out her voice. “You’re rich and famous; I’m a nobody. We get it.”

She shoots you a devilish smirk, complemented by a wink before going ahead. Her flawless body and model strut serve as the perfect hall pass; you're willing to give every excuse and exemption just to be with her in bed when it’s all said and done.

The huge front doors swing open automatically. The living room alone dwarfs your entire house and makes Yujin’s look miniature in comparison. Collective chatter fills the atmosphere as guests convene everywhere. Not a single space remains unoccupied with at least two people engaged in conversation over drinks. 

Like the visitors at your girlfriend’s party, you have no idea who these people are or what their intentions are. Some of them turn their heads, stare at your direction and greet you hello. They’re not actually meant for you, but for the woman right beside you. To your dismay, she remembers how awkward you are at large gatherings and takes advantage of it. Bumping shoulders, she encourages you to wave back at them. Not the name you want to make for yourself.

So you sneak away from her and escape into the crowd. Passing through different rooms, you eventually run into a familiar face in the entertainment room. The person turns around, meets your gaze in dramatic fashion, and her excitement immediately rises to dangerous levels. 

“Hey! Oh! Were you invited too?” asks the girl, enthusiastically, running toward you.

You vividly recognize her cute face—and her Japanese accent. She was the girl who almost uncovered you twice in a single night.

“Oh God—” You grumble, bothered, silently praying your whisper drowns in the sea of loud gossip. “Oh—hi, Rei.”

“You must really be someone special to be invited to Mistress Jang’s party.” Rei suddenly pulls you by the shoulder to whisper something secretive in your ear, closing any opportunity to escape. “You know this is a blue card invitation, right? Only those deep in her social circle can come here, and her private circle is really, really small. Just so you know, there’s an industry rumor going around that the son of a government official offered millions in a bid to woo her, and she turned him down.”

“O-oh, that’s—cool.” 

Respectfully, what you wanted to say was that you had no interest in the so-called Mistress Jang, or the corrupt children of the officials running the nation with puppet strings. You were only there at Yujin’s insistence, and nothing else. “Surely he must be fuming that Jang—”

“Shhhh.” Rei puts a finger between your lips to quiet you down. She briefly looks left and right, scanning everything and everyone around you. “We call her Mistress Jang, Miss Jang, or Miss Vicky Jang. The title is very important here.”

“What?” For a moment, you thought you had stepped inside the palace of some ancient dynasty, the way titles are held in high regard. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know, huh? Are you living under a rock? Miss Jang is one of the biggest names in the country! She’s Korea’s it girl and national princess. Gosh, every brand she wears—and touches—becomes instant sell outs. She’s like a god even among celebrities!” Rei turns around, scouts the place a second time, as if she isn’t already screaming. Surely, this has to be hyperbole because you’ve never heard anyone with a description this grand, only in children’s role play. “She’s practically royalty, even if she doesn’t have a title.”

“Oookay.” Your lack of interest shows through your dry tone. “Yeah, well Yujin invited me here so—”

“Well, that makes perfect sense. I was thinking you were some kind of celebrity or photographer, but now I also know you’re Yujin’s boyfriend. So, the guy hidden in some of her Instagram photos was you.”

“Right.” Shake your head, slowly drawing away from her and this conversation before you become the center of discussion and treated like an actual celebrity. “So, yeah, it was nice seeing you again—”

“Can I ask you one question?” Her narrow eyes and pouty lips are practically pleading to you. Might as well amuse her just this once. Maybe she’ll finally leave you alone. “Please?”

“Fine, what is it?”

“What kind of person is she in bed?” The question elicits an animated reaction on your face—the kind that gets passed around on the internet as a meme. “I bet she gives really good head—”

“There you are!” Yujin suddenly shouts, interrupting right before it becomes extremely awkward. “Hey Rei! What have you been talking about?”

“Yujin!” The Japanese girl abruptly releases you, meeting her in embrace and exchanging friendly kisses. “Not much, just catching up with your guy about some—” she suddenly pauses, making up an excuse on the fly. “—stuff. Anyway, did you know he doesn’t know who Miss Jang is?”

“I was about to take him to her, actually.” 

“Oh no—” You impulsively blurt, losing control over your volume at that moment. 

Forget that they’re right in front of you. Forget that you value your own life over some pussy you can get any other time you want.

Surely Miss Jang would be the kind of person who immediately comes for the life of the offending party when the smallest rumor or slander reaches her ears—how much more at an occasion with some of her most esteemed guests, making you an example of what not to do to cross her.

Fortunately, the two friends then turn their eyes toward you, seemingly unaware of your dismayed reaction. Yujin takes you by the hand, but her soft touch doesn’t relax you in the slightest. “I’ll take him to her now. See ya!”

“Of course, have a great night, you two.”

There’s no light at the end of this tunnel; it’s more of a series of unfortunate events connected from one to another. You’d rather take the option of sharing the freakiest, lewdest secrets of your sex life with Rei over meeting this Mistress Jang face-to-face. You had no say in the matter, not when you’re Yujin’s partner and she’s just as highly esteemed of a name, if not greater, as everyone else in the room.

After a flight of stairs, she scans the second floor, where more people are drinking and chatting it up, before heading in. With you in-tow, you head toward the center hallway together. Seemingly uncaring of your hand getting crushed by her grip, she weaves around dashing from one side to the other until she suddenly stops. Her eyes light up when she sees several suited men assembled in a circle surrounding something—or someone. 

“She’s over there. Give her a minute,” she says, observing them without giving a moment to consider your squished hand—or you for that matter.

“Understood, Miss Jang,” says the oldest man at the center, nodding. The suited men disperse in different directions like a trained, coordinated army unit. A young girl emerges from the assembly with a cold, steely expression in her eyes and her features. 

You expected Miss Jang to be of intimidating, imposing stature, like she could snap you in half like a twig, when really, you’re more likely to toss her around instead. At first glance, everything about her appearance makes her akin to a doll. Pearly white skin, soft, silky lips, and a lightweight figure—everything about her seems curated and designed for maximum appeal to the unrealistic standards of the public. It wouldn’t surprise you if she was actually a life sized model in disguise, with metals and electrical wirings operating the body underneath several layers of unnatural beauty.

Your assumption seemingly comes to pass when she turns her head in a rather mechanical motion, then the blank look on her face shifts to a fixed little beam, hiding any sort of emotion behind them. “Yujin.” Her voice comes out near silent but honeyed, eyes curling into a smile as she recognizes your girl.

“Wony!” She lets go of your hand to hug and give her a kiss on the cheek, treating her like every other acquaintance or friend of hers.

“So, a boyfriend huh? Congratulations,” the other woman replies, reciprocating her friend’s gesture with a kiss on the other cheek. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. He’s kind of a bum, but he’s all right.” Even around friends, Yujin couldn’t help but make the gap between you and her obvious. You’re properly dressed for the occasion (disregarding the fact she bought and tailored it for you), but otherwise, you’re a fish out of water. 

“Come here.” Mistress Jang shoots you a cold stare. Frightened, you immediately follow. Releasing herself from Yujin’s hug, she extends her hand out for you to shake. “You must be Yujin’s boyfriend. Welcome.”

“Um,” You try to think of something—anything—respectful to reply to her with, but ultimately come up with nothing. Sure, she’s not the dangerous boss or demanding overlord you envisioned, but she’s still the most important person in the entire mansion, with emergency protocols practically marked all over her. “Thanks.”

“Please, make yourself at home.” Her eyes lock onto yours, curls into a friendly smile, inviting you to act comfortably in her presence. “I know it’s your first time here, so enjoy.”

“Thanks,” you reply twice in quick succession because it’s the only word you can think of. Other words aren't necessary when it’s the safest option available. 

Patting you on the shoulder, then giving it a playful squeeze, she reassures you again, “I know you’re nervous because of the whole Mistress Jang thing, but please, I don’t bite. I would never.” 

A little teasing smirk and wink from her makes Yujin giggle. The two women rub foreheads, share a brief stare into each other’s eyes, reveling in their strong bond. “Please just call me Wonyoung.”

“Um, okay. Thanks for the welcome, Wony,” you say, looking over your shoulder, trying to escape those magnetic eyes of hers, but they ultimately draw you back in. No one else in the room other than you three. “You two know each other, Yujin?”

“Of course!” The energy Yujin answers you with is infectious. Your girlfriend plants a kiss on her cheek, hooking her arms around her shoulders. If you weren’t around as a third wheel, they’d make for a perfect pair. If she had her way, she would talk about her all day long. “We’ve been friends for a long, long time. Then she got bigger and richer than me and—”

“No need to compare,” interrupts Wonyoung, facing her with a wider grin. “Let’s not make our guests here jealous.”

A hearty laugh from the two follows, and you can’t do anything but smile. You don’t really find their jokes funny, but at the very least, their tight friendship warms your heart. The way their eyes glimmer when they meet, how rosy their cheeks burn, and how close their lips are from making contact—they love each other dearly and intimately it’s almost invasive that you’re awkwardly watching them, as if you didn’t exist in that moment.

You have places to be and other things to do. Inelegant as it sounds, you’re forced to interject, respectfully. “I think I should be on my way now.”

Wonyoung turns her gaze back at you. “Oh, right. Almost forgot you’re there,” she replies, almost bursting into a giggle at the end of her sentence. “The main event will begin soon. Go and have fun in the meantime.”

“Yeah. Go and have fun,” Yujin repeats, almost taunting. It’s almost second nature for her to tease you. The twosome turn around and walk away, hands still clingy like they can’t live without the other, and their collective laughter echoes all over the room as they leave you alone.

—————

You promised yourself not to stir up a commotion during the party, knowing that anything you do has a high probability to snowball out of control very fast. Only one drink will suffice. It’s not like you’re deeply hurting at all, unlike in the past. 

You’re sifting through framed photos throughout the house, mostly of Wonyoung’s silver spoon childhood, but one picture sticks out from the rest—one with her and Yujin that was certainly taken recently. It becomes even more apparent that she’s most likely her only friend, considering she’s the only one present in the photos who isn’t connected by family or bloodline.

“Yo!” A shout breaks your introspection. Turn your head and Rei’s fastly approaching you. This time, you don’t even try to hide your annoyed expressions. “Enjoying the place? Have you met Mistress Jang yet? What was she like?”

Remaining silent, you feign ignorance, looking the other way, back to the photos. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work.

She’s standing right beside you, smiling mischievously. It's almost trollish, almost pervasive, and downright annoying. You wonder how anyone puts up with her, and how she even gets invited to these gatherings. “Did you see her and Yujin holding hands? They look so cute together! I bet they would make an amazing couple, you know?”

You raise your eyebrows, partially in agreement, but mostly to entertain her, if it means she eventually leaves you alone. 

“You know, you’re such a weird guy for being Yujin’s supposed ‘boyfriend’,” she continues, pushing her face close to yours, lips pouting and shooting you mischievous, playful looks. “I mean, I don’t get why she’d want someone like you, unless you’ve got something big down there—”

At this point, you’d rather cut your ears off than listen to another minute—no, five seconds—of her grating prattling. 

When you walk away from her, she takes a hold of your hand, causing you to look over your shoulder, furious. Glaring at her, you snap. “Back off.”

“I’m not backing off until you answer me!” Rei’s shouting, trying to make a scene out of this heated exchange. “Serious, I’ve been nice to you the whole time, yet you don’t even look at me with equal respect!”

“What does that have to do with respect? You’re being annoying as fuck!” You don’t mince your words. “I mean, why does it matter to you that I’m fucking Yujin every night?”

She staggers back, eyes wide in shock, jaw slack, and the hand that seized you covers her mouth. It’s the answer she wants, yet it sounds unbelievable. It also draws the attention of everyone nearby, some approaching to see what kind of commotion is happening. There might as well be a huge spotlight shone on you both. You’re the main characters now.

One glance and it rips you from the immersion of the moment. Dozens of eyes focused on you and your co-star, eagerly anticipating what happens after the cliffhanger. The break is long and awkward; nothing exciting happens while you both freeze in place, like the script hasn’t been completed yet. In your mind, you’re hoping someone slaps some sense into you—or wakes you up from this elaborate dream. 

“We’re just talking here, not much is happening!” Somehow, you’re able to break character to break the tension. It doesn’t seem to work initially. The onlookers remain observant of the situation, unconvinced, until one person leaves, followed by another, and more disperse, until you’re completely irrelevant in their eyes once more. Even more amazing is how not a single butler stepped in to intervene during the sudden uproar.

Deafening silence follows as you’re both left alone to contend within yourselves without outside interference. One look at Rei and you find her still motionless, like every part of her malfunctioned. Perhaps it’s the bluntness in how you’ve admitted a lewd secret to her or the way you snapped against her that caught her by surprise. You’re not entirely responsible though. She should have known what she was getting into by poking the bear.

Still, you’re a nice guy, and it’s still a heat of the moment action you’ll definitely regret in the morning. “Um, look, I’m sorry, but yeah—”

“Gosh.” Rei suddenly blurts, eyes still wide, staring at you without a single blink that it’s a little unsettling. You expected her to finally calm down after such a quiet, low answer, but instead, she follows with, “I wonder how well she takes your cock—I mean—how well does she give head?”

“Is this how you talk to friends and acquaintances, Rei?” you reply, tilting an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. 

“Maybe—” she rolls her eyes, avoiding your gaze, and you can spot the faintest sign of a devious smirk on her lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you showed me with your girlfriend’s consent—”

“To all house guests. To all house guests.” An artificial voice echoes over the speakers, interrupting the conversation and grabbing everyone’s attention. “Please gather outside. The special show will be starting soon.”

After the brief distraction, she faces you again with a friendly, mutual smile, saying, “We can talk about this another time.”

Leaving you on another cliffhanger, she spins around and follows everyone outside.

—————

The interior of the mansion is nothing compared to the courtyard. An enclosure so large in scale; it can host a concert or festival. While you and the guests pick seats, butlers form the stage for the performance. Surprisingly, Rei opts not to lurk close by, instead choosing a seat far behind. You, on the other hand, settle for one in the second-most front row area. She doesn’t spot you spying on her a fair distance away, and probably for the best, too, after what had just transpired.

Ignore her. You’ll want to avoid her for the rest of the night. Perhaps if you’re luckier, Yujin decides she’s had enough and wants to leave, but it’s very, very unlikely. It would take the ground beneath you splitting to separate her from her best friend.

Smoke rapidly fills the platform as the stage goes dark. The entrance is grandiose; the audience around you erupts in thunderous applause as two silhouettes flash themselves behind a door-shaped window. You can recognize both figures with ease. With all the times your fingers traced her skin and curves, you could recreate Yujin’s body from memory alone. 

The cheering grows as the windows swing open, their faces now in clear view. Yujin and Wonyoung make this sexy pose side by side. It’s almost unbelievable how radically different their attitudes are on stage, and you were just speaking to them a while ago. A handful of phones are stretched out to take photos of the duo, while you’re mentally taking pictures, taking in their overwhelming beauty that cameras don’t do them enough justice. Your girlfriend was always the first thing you had your eyes on, but admittedly, Wonyoung’s making you feel some kind of way, too. 

They follow up with a parallel strut that outshines any model. Yujin shoots your side of the audience a flirtatious smirk, and your reaction is no different than anyone else, falling head over heels for her, as if you weren’t her lucky one. Wonyoung’s smile is more innocent, dainty—the kind that warms even the coldest of hearts. Had your fingers not bore deep into your thighs, self-restrained, you might have quietly snuck them between your groin, irrespective of where you are and who you’re with. 

You don’t realize they’re singing on stage with the stationed mic stands. You’re mostly immersed in their little sensual movements and the way they motion to the crowd with their hands. You don’t know the lyrics to every song, but you’re bopping lightly, imagining how their tight bodies would react when they ride you in private. There’s a little hum quietly dripping from your lips, not because you’re following along with the tune, but because you’re moaning. 

Yujin and Wonyoung perform for half an hour, but you don't waste a single second of it not admiring them. There are times when one of the girls waves or shoots a pair of eyes at your direction, but you remain reactionless, taking in the sight of their perfection before you like they’re a present for your patience.

One more wave to the audience before they leave, to the loudest wave of resounding cheers. They walk back to where they stood in the entrance, flaunting their cheeks before the doors close and they disappear in a puff of smoke. In a different setting, you'd have ran onto the stage and taken them both, right then and there, in front of the crowd, without a care in the world. 

—————

You don’t hear a word from either of them for the next two hours. Biding the time, you wait on the outskirts of the courtyard, beyond anyone’s sight, taking solace under the fresh mountain air, occasionally looking through your phone with no texts or calls, looking for a sign to leave. One look over your shoulder and it’s very clear that no one’s going home anytime soon. Taking photos of the two was the smarter play, in hindsight.

“Miss Jang would like to have a word with you.” A steely voice catches your attention. Tilt your head to find one of the many nameless butlers standing upright before you. “Come with me.”

“Oh thank God.” You’re not even hiding your excitement, as evident by that lively pep in your step. You feel your patience is finally being rewarded.

You follow the servant back to the mansion proper, avoiding eye contact with anyone, even when you catch a glimpse of Rei around the corner interacting with another guest. Back up the stairs to the second floor. Not another soul around and not a single sound can be heard. Ultimately, he leads back to the room where you first met Wonyoung before turning around and leaving you there alone.

“Wait, what does she want—” The door slams shut with a loud thud before you can even finish the question. Run back to chase him, but the door remains firmly shut and you’re unable to open it. Knowing how much surveillance there is everywhere, it wouldn’t surprise you if she knew of your little exchange with Rei, whether it be cameras, microphones, or guests disguised as moles. 

“No, no, no—” you grumble, each one more fearful than the last. Try as you can to turn that knob, it refuses to budge. Texting Yujin’s your only other option, but you can’t get a good signal inside the spacious chamber, despite previously seeing 5G on your phone. The lights suddenly shutting off would be the last thing you want to happen, and against your wishes, it’s what does end up happening—leaving you entirely in the dark. 

It’s the stuff of nightmares: completely shut inside a rich manor, with lights suddenly going off at random, and with no forms of communication. The only thing missing are the windows swinging open to let strong winds blow, but you have to stop thinking more of these grim thoughts before they become reality. 

Desperation sets in so quickly; you’re banging aimlessly at the door, at the window, but not even your hardest efforts can move a single inch. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Your fate is basically sealed.

A little gleam clears darkness from the other side of the room. A call to judgment. A slim figure walks in, judge, jury, and possibly executioner all at once. Then the lights come back on, blinding you. 

“Hi.” She calls to you gently, ignoring that you’re walking in aimless circles. “You okay?”

A scream escapes your breath, leaving you in your most embarrassing state. “Wonyoung!” You don’t give her any space to ask for context. “Look, if this is about what happened earlier, then I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” She raises an eyebrow and her lips curl into a frown, concerned for different reasons. “Incident? Are you okay?”

“Didn’t you know? Me and Rei got into an—oh.” Realizing there’s no reason to panic, you relearn the ability to pick up cues, and act like everything’s normal. Wonyoung’s shooting you a wary look, and it’s not far off from how everyone else at this party saw you—at least at one point. “Yeah, no. I was kinda scared because the lights suddenly went off and—”

“The lights? Well, Yujin told me you were a scaredy cat,” says Wonyoung with a small smile. You roll your eyes to the side, far more annoyed than anything else that happened tonight. Take back what you’ve said earlier. Yujin’s the kind of person who’d actually pull those tricks on you, and of course she’d allow her friend to get involved in her own warped games to avoid suspicion. That’s how cunning she can be. She sees you as a sandbox to play with.

“I’m sorry. I called you so I can apologize and because I want to speak to you.” Wonyoung continues quietly, bowing reverently as if she committed an unforgivable crime—something she most likely learned being under intense scrutiny all the time. Forgiveness was going to be given, regardless. This seems completely unnecessary, but you appreciate the sincerity and effort.

“Wony, or Miss Jang, whatever you want to be called—it’s fine, there’s no need to cry about it.” She lifts her head, sobbing a little, and her lips contort into a gentle smile. You can see and understand why she’s so beloved; beyond the wealth, she’s so innocent, pure looking and sounding, all the elements of a likable character in a cute package.

“Thank you.” She nods her head energetically, shaking your hands in appreciation. Dramatic behavior for something relatively minor, but you’re a guest without any authority in her house. Besides, how can you say no to that endearing face? “I’m really sorry. I just wanted to be close with my friend—”

“Yujin? Don’t worry about it. She likes to tease me a lot,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes to the side again, tone mildly disgruntled. Another one of her playful tactics, out in the light. “And I can see you two are really close.”

“Yeah.” Wonyoung brushes a finger against her pink cheek, pouting her lips. “We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t remember anything before we met.” 

She suddenly stops, looks over your shoulder, before adding, “We should take our little talk to another room.”

—————

“Thirsty?” asks Wonyoung, walking around the room, scouring for the tea infuser.

“Kind of,” you reply, unsure if you really want a drink—or to drink her. Either way, you’re dying for a taste of something sweet. 

While she’s preoccupied with serving you tea, you scan her from head to toe, still dressed in her showy outfit from earlier. A red corset covers her white dress shirt and tie, complemented by her hair wrapped in a cute bun. None of it steals your attention more than her short shorts, showing a glimpse of her plump ass cheeks that ripple when she casually walks back and forth. Her attitude is nothing compared to what she displayed on stage, yet she renders you speechless. In your head, she’s still the daring woman out there performing.

She walks over to you, casually reclined on the comfy sofa, with a fresh pot of tea in hand. Pouring a drink on your cup, she shoots you a heartstopping smile, like she’s facing the cameras; it’s second nature for her to charm. A memory you’ll keep forever. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Lean over to grab the cup and take a sip. Very hot that it scalds your tongue, causing you to flinch, but it’s tasty. “Mmmmm—hot, hot, hot.”

She giggles in the middle sipping her own self-made drink, but it doesn’t bother her. Admittedly, you’re no religious tea drinker to tolerate it, but on the contrary, she handles it with such well-trained poise. It’s in the little details: how straight her sitting posture is and how she holds the cup in her delicate hand, despite the long nails, along with the saucer—very princess coded.

“Not used to tea?” she asks, before taking another swig at it. “It’s healthy for you, you know that?”

“Don’t really have time for it,” you reply back, mirroring her motion, but the second nip is just as sizzling. As a result, you end up looking even more stupid. She has this neutral, deadpan look on her features, but the little shift in her lips as you burn your tongue on her tea reveals cracks in her well-manufactured character. A very embarrassing display, even behind closed doors. “Shit—I mean, crap, that’s hot—”

“Hey, you can swear here. This isn’t a church.” Her cup is half-empty or half-full, depending on how she sees it, before she puts it down on the table. “So where were we again? Right. Yujin.”

Her name sets off red flags in your head, activating your fight or flight response. Even when you’re in the most secure place in the world, where nothing can hear or see you, she’s lurking around the corners of your mind rent-free. Knowing she’s close with Wonyoung means she’s more than likely in the know about every part of you, down to your most personal parts. The lights prank was the biggest proof of this.

“Tell me. What is she like as a girlfriend to you?” No mincing words, no gentle mood setting opener, she goes straight to the point, yet you’re still on edge. The wary side of you believes she’s probably extracting info that you’re keeping for yourself. It’s the perfect lure; behind all the flashy lights, she has a kind and friendly aura wrapped in a sweet package.

It takes a few minutes to process and think your answer through. Her eyes demand honesty, but to you, it’s probably just a front. She’s a celebrity, after all. She wears a mask everywhere she goes. 

“That’s a very personal question to ask,” you reply, emphasis on very. There are lines that can’t be crossed, and this is one of them. You’re not falling for the bait so easily. 

Wonyoung tilts her head, cocking an eyebrow, unbothered. “I know. Yujin tells me you’re a great lover, but I wanna hear it from your side. How do you feel about her?”

“She’s a great lover too,” you reply, testing the waters’ depth. Very treacherous. Hope it doesn’t pull you down and drag you to the bottom. “She likes to tease, she’s very playful, and she likes to make me look bad in front of her friends, but otherwise, she’s great in just about everything.”

She lifts her eyebrow and nods, taking mental notes of every spoken word. After a pause, it’s on to the next question. “In what way does she make you look bad in front of your friends?”

There’s still time to swim back to safety, but the waves are growing more turbulent by the minute. 

“Er—” you struggle to formulate anything that doesn’t raise a suspicious eyebrow. Either it breaks continuity, or makes no sense. Maybe you’ll float, somehow, but that sinking feeling remains stronger. “She likes to stick it in my face that she can own me if she wants to.”

“And is that not true? You know you’re dating a celebrity right?” Wonyoung places a finger on her chin, staring deeply into your soul. She’s the taller person in the room, but not the bigger person. “We’re kind of narcissistic like that to anyone. You should have known that.”

“If I knew all celebrities were like that, I’d have never come back to her,” you say, using every bit of your willpower not to yell at her. 

“Yet here you are. And you’d never be here without her presence.” Wonyoung crosses her legs, mildly entertained as you gradually pull those metaphorical hairs off in front of her. “You told me she was great at everything, right? I guess ruining the bedroom must be part of that, too.”

The sound that comes out of you is almost inhuman. Wonyoung’s no longer acting sincerely, breaking character to laugh at your misery. It was bound to happen with how shallow your brain thinks. Then again, you weren’t in the clearest state of mind when you reconnected with Yujin.

“I get it. She’s very hot. Everyone wants a piece of her. Consider yourself very lucky she’s just that—and not a naggy bitch, unlike some of the people in this party,” she adds, smarmy in delivery that it doesn’t feel like proper consolation.

“Yeah, but what else am I supposed to do? I don’t like being her punching bag.” 

“To be honest, I don’t know what you two are like, I really don’t.” Wonyoung suddenly stops, hops off from her couch to sit beside you. Disarming of a tone it is, the answer is anything but reassuring.  “But think of it this way. Gotta take the bad with the good, right?”

“I guess.” You take a deep breath, uncertain about what to feel, or do. 

“She hasn’t done anything to you tonight, right?” She quietly wraps an arm over your shoulders, inching her pristine face close to yours. Another line crossed. Forget about that, she’s dancing back and forth between those non-existent lines.

“Nope. Haven’t seen her after the performance, either.” 

Your eyes meet, and hers twinkle brightly, worthy of a star of her name. It’s the thing you wanted the least to happen.  You’re drowning in her gaze.

“Can you do something for me?” she asks, whispering softly. Her breath fills your nostrils with inviting warmth.

“Sure,” you say, without hesitation, throwing all caution to the wind.

“I wanna know what she feels,” she says, each word dripping with honey and rapid growing lust. “I wanna know how she feels with you in bed.”

“Are you sure?” you question, but it’s pointless. Your hands are already tracing the outline of her back, marking new territory to explore, until they cup soft, bare, round flesh. 

“I’m ready,” she replies back, eyes gleaming with desire. She shifts her entire weight onto you, pushing you to the bottom of the couch, asserting dominance over you. “She told me how amazing you are in bed, and I can’t help but be curious. I really wanna know what it’s like.”

Before you can even question the security of the place, she’s right ahead of you. Kissing the ridge of your nose, she whispers, “Don’t worry if we’re being too loud. Only the both of us will know.”

Kiss her on the lips in return. A lure until you flip positions. Suddenly, you’re hovering above her. Your hands drag along upward until they grasp the zipper of her red corset. You meet resistance when she quivers beneath you, shaking her head vehemently.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, pulling yourself back into a crouch.

“I want to keep my clothes on,” she whispers, timid and nervous, her demure character gone in an instant. “Um—it’s not that I suddenly changed my mind, it’s just that I haven’t done this before.”

You sit up on the couch, perfectly understanding, quickly formulating a way for you to make her first time feel comfortable. “Tried any toys before?”

Wonyoung follows you, softly grasping your hand. “Played with a few dildos, but that’s about it. I find it quite uncomfortable at times.”

“Hmm.” An idea suddenly hits you like lightning. It’s ridiculous, but you might as well swing for the fences. “Watched porn?”

“What?” Wonyoung’s jaw slacks, caught off-guard by such a rather obscene question, even by lewd standards. She lets a moment to let the question sink in, more on the side of disbelief than looking for an answer. “Yes, but—why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you want to learn how to suck a cock.”

“Mmm, that sounds interesting, but I’ve seen enough ‘movies' to have an idea.” Wonyoung hops off the couch, promptly drops to her knees. Frisky fingers latch on to the hem of your pants, already ahead of you. “Would you like me to suck your cock?”

There was no need to elaborate any further. 

You give her an approving nod. Immediately, her fingers work on your zipper, sliding them down. The rest of your pants and underwear follow. Her eyes light up at the sight of your cock, springing to life after being freed.

Looking up at you again, she asks, “Can I?”

Nod again, completely hypnotized by the sight of your shaft close to the perfect, young starlet’s face. It’s almost scandalous how you have what’s basically a goddess in everyone’s sight brought down to earth in such a filthy manner. 

“I’m not really good at this, but I really wanna try.” Wonyoung’s being apologetic again before anything happens, and it’s repetitive, but you’ll let it slide over and over. She sticks out her tongue, nervously inching it close to your cock, until it plants atop your tip, breaking your resolve almost immediately.

“Mmmmm.” She gets her first taste of real cock. It's bitter, salty, and everything she expects, everything she craves. That first slurp cools her dry throat, like finding an oasis in the middle of a desert.

“Christ.” You lose control of your senses, eyes growing weary at the sight of her dainty fingers, the way they wrap around the base of your dick, pumping you to full hardness. You can't believe it. There's this surge of ecstasy, and it renders you helpless under her control. "This was your first time? Fuck--"

Sloppy slurps and smooches from her lips reduce you into a groaning mess. She spreads globs of precum all around your shaft, unintentionally spilling little specks on her chin and cheeks. Her eyes continue to watch intently while you fall weak at the knees, clinging nails to the sofa’s linen. Ignore the collateral damage you’re making. It will barely dig into her deep pockets. 

The more Wonyoung continues to blow you off, the more seed splatters onto her, making her sparkly features even more glinting. It’s difficult to comprehend just how incredible she is at sucking cock—or maybe it’s just you struggling to think beyond pleasure and nothing else. She claims it’s her first time, yet the way her fingers stroke you with confident and elaborate precision means anything but. The little bits of white that taint her flawless face do nothing but make a masterpiece shine even brighter.

Her tongue continues to slide and make itself known all over your length. It’s almost impossible not to give in to your urges and force yourself down her throat. She’s doing well so far; you can barely hear her gurgle or complain while she takes more of you inside her, little by little. Caress that dark hair, still bundled together in a cute package. She reciprocates your compliment by pushing a little bit further, even when her maw tries to resist, only to cross a line she hasn’t reached.

“Ghhhk, mmmph, ghhhk!” Wonyoung coughs into your shaft, overwhelmed by the fullness of your length, tickling her sensitive part deep in the gullet. You pull her by the bun, release her throaty grip on your shaft with a sloppy pop, letting saliva spill onto the floor and her dress.

“You okay?” you ask, concealing the bliss you feel with a frown. Compared to her, you’re not a good actor.

To your surprise, she slaps you away from her harshly, then shoots you a disappointed pout. More adorable than intimidating. “I was still adjusting, asshole. If your dick wasn’t so fucking big—”

“Gotta take the bad with the good, right?” you deflect what she said to you earlier, chuckling at her cute scowl. Unknowingly, Yujin’s mannerisms are rubbing off on you, but you refuse to give credit where it’s due.

Wonyoung rises from the floor, opting to straddle herself on your lap instead. Your shaft lines against soft, wet flesh. Her hands grab the bottom of her shorts, pulling them up for easier access to her folds. It’s impossible to look anywhere but those magnetic caramel eyes, staring deep into your soul, telling you what she wants, without the need of any needless words.

“I’m ready now.” She rests her hands against your shoulders, looking at you expectantly. That was only a warm-up. It’s time for the real test. “Fuck me.”

You’re briefly taken aback just by how blunt her demand is, but those two words spoken in such a sensuous tone linger. Denying her at this stage would be downright criminal. Her slim thighs wrap around the area where your cock stands, the softness of her skin more than capable of making you cum before you can do anything. 

She leans forward to capture you in a passionate kiss, hotter and more passionate than the first. The spell that pushes away whatever logical and moral barriers remain. There’s an angel placed before your lap; time to make her sing. 

Lift her up until she gently descends and makes a graceful landing against your shaft. Upon impact, the kiss is disrupted, rocking her entire body with a new, electric sensation. Moaning music  into your mouth, she makes it clear how heavenly you feel. 

“Mmm—oh God, you’re already stretching me out,” she purrs against you, shutting her eyes and letting all the pleasure wash over her. 

“Better than any dildo?” 

“Better than any dildo.” She nods, lifting her head to expose her neck, clean and pure—ready for ruin, just like every other part of her. 

“Just moan for me, okay?” you say, whispering against her nape. “I’m gonna fuck you like how I fuck Yujin.”

Her body locks as you push deep into her tight, overwhelming cunt. To say she was suffocating would be an understatement. Her sopping pussy proves to be a strong vacuum when you draw back for the first time, pulling every bit of you deep into her core. She’s grasping at straws to not fall apart so quickly. Tugging your hair, neck, and into your expensive dress shirt—none of that bothers you in the slightest, thrusting in a second time, adjusting quicker to her heat than you expected.

You release a breath you’ve unknowingly been holding, looking up at her pleasure ridden face. Her expressions melt in every direction, chest heaving deeply from all the built-up pleasure. “You’re really tight, Wony.”

Resting her forehead against your temple, her palm grips the back of your skull. “And you’re so big.” Praise you’ll never grow tired of hearing from anyone. “C’mon. Do it already.”

In an ideal world, all her clothes would have been gone while you pound into her wet, delicious pussy. This is just as hot, too—maybe even hotter. The usually imperfect Wonyoung looking like your typical girl at the local bar arouses you. So you weaponize those nasty thoughts and do your God-given purpose—to fuck pleasure into their needy, wanton bodies.

Pushing your strained hips up, you pound her, make her sing to high heaven. Hungry fingers hike up the rest of the leftover fabric in her shorts being sucked in by her gap, partially stained from pent up excitement. It’s a familiar feeling, reminiscent of when you were young, innocent and didn’t know any better. Now it’s playing out again, scene by scene, with a few key differences. The girl is different, and you’re nowhere close to being drunk, but here you are—stuck in that old place.

Wonyoung is nowhere close to assertive, unlike her. Her confidence and emphaticness immediately crumble after the first thrust, and freefall even further on the second. She’s not ripping through your clothes, nor is she eager to lead you to bed right away, how she has you glued to the couch with those slender legs. None of that matters when her moans are pornographic, unbefitting of her otherwise pure, princess-like charm that she’s famously known for. On the contrary, her torrid, frantic kisses perfectly embody that trademark allure.

You’re testing those waters again to see how far you’ll go before you inevitably drown. One hand rests at the zipper of her corset, imprinted with your fingerprints, eagerly anticipating her go-ahead for undressing. The other confides on her plump ass molding into your grip, into something truly yours. Meanwhile, she continues to alternate between a mewl and a moan, crashing her body against your shaft to stretch her out even further. Soften her up more with kisses and nibbles on her chin and neck, leave crimson marks as red as her dress. As glowing as she already is, she will shine brighter than the lights above.

“Yujin must be so lucky to have you,” whines Wonyoung, huskily, tilting your face up to meet her fluttery eyes glazed with pleasure, expressions twisting with every overwhelming sensation. She kisses you again. The taste of strawberry flavored lipstick will never leave you. “This dick is so good—”

“I’m still holding back, babe.” Kiss her reddened neck and collarbone. The way she moans in response reminds you of her, a pleasure they both share. “I want you to feel good since it’s your first time.”

Yujin would demand you to up the pace, and lead you to a rushed ruin, but not Wonyoung. “It really feels so good. Keep going.”

Even as you engage in small conversation, your slow, loving tempo rocks her light frame vigorously, releasing sweet melodies you’d never hear from that mouth otherwise. Her tight, sopping cunt flexes against your cock, allowing you smoother and sloppier glides in and out of her core. You’re nowhere close to hitting the perfect angle, but her silvery mewls offer consolation. She continues to envelop you in her tight embrace, hands reaching all over your back, wanting more of you merged with her as possible.

The hand itching to undress her roams down her back to rejoin the other in squeezing her soft, cheeky flesh. To your amusement, she yelps in your ear and she violently quivers, eliciting a silent giggle out of you. A test of the room’s soundproofing, and it works as intended. Her entire body is in your grasp, moldable and malleable in any shape and form to your heart’s utmost desires. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can last. I’m so close to cumming,” she whispers, and it only spurs you on to lead her into a satisfying climax. Slow as you are penetrating her, you want the moment to last longer. A few minutes isn’t enough for you to relish the warm sensation of your cock buried in her incredibly tight hole. Still, she has this look in her weary eyes demanding you to pull through, which you happily oblige.

“Where do you want me to cum?” you ask, slowing your pace down that even snails move faster. You’re unwilling to take any risks, especially with someone like her.

“Anywhere you want.” Wonyoung continues to fuck herself against your cock, apathetic about everything else except the high she intensely seeks. “I swear, if you pull out now, I’m going to—”

A kiss on those sensitive collarbones tempers her demanding mouth, back to those broken, varied moans. Another reminder that she’s nowhere close to grabbing you by the balls like Yujin could. As punishment, the dress must come off, but you know it’s not worth the rest of your life in perpetual harassment in exchange for temporary pleasure. You’ve already learned your lesson; she’ll understand it one day.

For now, you settle into that laid back pace, lifting yourself a bit off the couch as much as your legs allow you to. Wonyoung has basically marked down your whole back with her nails, hoarsely squealing and whimpering as her body trembles. You can feel it in every part of her how she’s ready to cum with the way her pussy clenches against your cock, unwilling to let go, just like the first time you entered her.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum—” 

Right on the dot, Wonyoung finally gives in, throwing her head back to let pleasure run its course. It pulls you deep, gives her juices to liberally coat your shaft with delicious waves of slick, dripping on the couch and down to her thighs, forming a lifetime connection with you. The force sends you back down on the sofa, enough to stop you right in your tracks, long before you’re even close to cumming. 

“Oh my god, oh my god. I came so much.” Firmly clinging to you, she rests her head on your shoulders, completely zapped of all her strength. Her eyes tilt down to note the wet puddle blocked by your legs. It doesn’t alarm her in the slightest; to her, a replacement couch is cheaper than a thorough cleaning. 

Kissing her ear and placing her beside you on the sofa, you quietly ask, “How was it?”

“I came so much. Oh my God,” she says, unable to comprehend she spilled that much. Her gaze remains glued to the wet pool formed on the couch, now seeing the full extent of her wreckage. A curious finger taps the sticky pool to make sure she’s not imagining things. “I don’t think I ever came that much with any dildo.”

Putting back your pants on, you smile at her innocent reaction. She’s still fresh to it all, but there’s a curiosity in her eyes, wanting to learn more. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I really wanted to undress you, you know.” you follow, examining her from head to toe, all sweaty and clothes soiled from a simple session—and you weren’t trying too hard. “I can’t help but imagine what’s beneath all that clothing.”

“You’ll see.” Her eyes have a fiery glint reminiscent of your girlfriend, and all of a sudden, she has this renewed life. “Just so you know, you didn’t cum in me, asshole.”

“Just being safe,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. “Wasn’t sure if you were on the pill or not.”

“Of course I was on the pill.” Wonyoung looks away, but you can discern the scornful expression on her features, seemingly offended by your comment. “I would never.”

You flash a taunting smirk, ready to play her preferred trick. There was no way this would end after a one and done. “Why don’t we take this to the bed right now, then?” 

—————

It was so obvious right from the start. 

The door barely grants access to Wonyoung’s bedroom, but you already had a finger directed at the center of the mattress, pointing out the glaringly obvious figure laying on its edge. It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, and looking back in retrospect, everything building up to this moment was all part of an elaborate plan.The questions, the setup, the secretive location—they were all red flags. Then again, you always think with your cock, not with your brain, especially when there’s a pretty girl begging for it.

“Hey sweetheart,” says Yujin, whimsically, posing on her side like it’s one of her typical photoshoots. Like Wonyoung, she’s still in her performance outfit, but with her hair down in contrast to her junior’s bun. “Having fun?”

“Was,” you retort, but your complaint has no ground when you’re unable to keep your eyes off your seductive girlfriend. 

She smirks and giggles, knowing everything’s falling into place. “Wony baby. How was the experience?”

“Pretty good,” replies Wonyoung, smiling from ear to ear. “He didn’t cum in me though.”

“Hey,” you suddenly blurt out, turning your gaze to the younger woman, not even trying to hide your annoyance, because you know what really happened.

“You’ll get yours, babe.” Yujin rolls off the bed to approach you, retaking control of what’s hers from her friend. She then pushes you onto the mattress, staring you down like a hungry predator stalking down her prey, aroused by the taste of blood—or in this case, lust. If not for those fiery pupils watching your every little move, hammering home the fear of God into your soul, there would be some fight in you to resist.

Now that’s a lie, because you would never—she always had her way with you.

“Watch and learn.” Climbing and hovering atop you, slowly spreading your legs, Yujin looks over to her best friend, watching on eagerly to see what it’s really like with you two. She’s seated on the edge of the bed, having restored much of her elegant poise to its clean, camera friendly form. 

“You did a great job warming him up for me,” says Yujin, grinding her hips against your clothed prison, already on the verge of blowing up. The two beauties watch in amusement as your tent pitches a second time. Fuck. You’re already leaking copious amounts, it’s quite obvious, and she’s humping you at such a relaxed tempo. 

“He really wanted to undress me,” comments Wonyoung, still flashing that princess-like beam, looking innocent in the matter, when in fact, she’s the instigator. “I told him not to, and he thankfully didn’t, but I felt his hands on my zipper a few times.”

“Mmm, being so naughty when I’m not looking?” Yujin’s tone is honeyed, but her movements are anything but. The pace she grinds herself against you quickens, and you’ve never felt so desperate for release, but you had no say in the matter—not when she has your hands tied over your head, kept in place by Wonyoung’s delicate but firm grip. “Were you ready to leave me for her? Good choice, but typical.”

Quick fingers make near-instant work of your pants and underwear, pushed down to the floor in an instant, freeing up your hard cock. Such relieving freedom is taken away just as quickly as it’s given when Yujin seizes you by the balls and your length, setting you alight. Each second burns hotter than the last, a kind of fucked-up form of punishment typical of the justice system. 

“Jesus, f-fuck, Yujin—” you hoarsely whimper, visibly struggling to gather air, but it only serves to arouse Yujin, and she reprimands your feeble oppression with a tighter lock on your most sensitive parts, smirking devilishly. It’s useless. For Yujin, this is all play, an elaborate demonstration to teach Wonyoung, but the pain is real. There’s a good likelihood you may not have a functioning pelvis in the morning. 

“You’re being very rough on him.” Wonyoung watches on concernedly, but also intrigued by the rather torturous method being performed. She knows she couldn’t overpower Yujin if she tried, and well, she most certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her hands, either.

“He actually enjoys being handled like this, dear.” Yujin makes sure not a single spot in your shaft is left unchecked by her steely hold. The deflated, helpless expression on your face says otherwise, but it’s only a front for what comes after. Little white spurts spill from the tip of your shaft, sufficient evidence to prove her point. “See?”

“Mm, are they like this all the time?” Wonyoung remains unconvinced. 

“Not always, but you’ll find one someday—someone who’ll beg on their knees to fuck you.” Her stranglehold on your cock loosens, finally giving you some actual breathing room—at least in your groin. “Didn’t you have that Korean government official sending you birthday ads and flowers?”

“Too ugly for my taste.” The younger woman grimaces at the reminder of that particular man, wishing he never be brought up in conversation ever again, much to her friend’s laughter. “I would never.”

Yujin nods along in agreement. “You’re too pretty for him. I bet he doesn’t even have a big dick like our little friend over here.”

“True.” Suddenly, both pairs of eyes turn in your direction, stare you down with a malicious smirk, full of purposeful intent. You would meet them halfway with your own confidence, but not when you’re in such a powerless position and with most of your strength sapped.

“Come up here.” Yujin gestures to her keen friend, hopping off your lap to make room for the lighter woman. Hiking up her equally short shorts, she hovers above you, giving you a peek of her splayed out pussy—the one you’ve craved for so long. Meanwhile, Wonyoung occupies the space previously occupied by Yujin, smothering you in a sea of soft, creamy thighs. The older woman spins around to face her untrained partner, hanging her cheeky flesh atop your face—a perfect view and obstruction.

“What are you gonna do to him?” asks Wonyoung, eyes wide with curiosity at Yujin’s seemingly awkward and strained position.

“Don’t pay attention to him.” Yujin promptly rests her ass against your face like a pillow, followed by her thighs muffling up your ears. “Get on top of his cock.”

Wonyoung complies, gliding her hips down in a graceful manner until she hilts herself down to your base, impaling her cunt with your hard dick. The inviting, suffocating heat that surges throughout your sensitive body makes you violently tremble. What a position you are in, something that most people in the country could only dream of. Two beauties in the prime of youth, desired by everyone, sandwiching you with their perfect, goddess-like figures. At this point, you were simply an outlet of pleasure to two wanton, hot bodies and nothing more. 

“O-oh God—” Yujin lets out a prolonged, tense whine as your tongue licks between her glistening folds, indulging in the sweet taste of her wet juices. Her thighs tighten up in response to your stimulation, closing spaces where you can breathe, but that doesn’t bother you. You craved her more than a drink in a dry desert with the way you lapped up her slick, and her suffocating legs were nothing but practice to hold in your deep breaths. For once, it was nice to have some form of control in the situation.

“You okay?” asks Wonyoung, clambering her palms against your thighs, looking hesitant.

“More than okay. This feels so fucking good.” Yujin’s confident expressions gradually melt away to make room for pleasure to take over. Before long, her slender, hourglass-shaped hips ride against your face, maximizing the areas your tongue can dig into. Her hands cling to your clothed chest for support, unable to remain balanced while you continue to feast on her. Miraculously, she’s still able to formulate a follow up, albeit with a string of stammers and stutters. “S-see? You’ll w-want your guy to be l-like this.”

“C-come on, ride h-his c-cock, d-dear. I-I-i’m s-sure h-he won’t mind.” Yujin reassures her friend with a weak smile that immediately folds under the helpless, blissful sensations her body feels. 

Fueled by newly found courage, Wonyoung glides and slams her hips against yours in delicate, graceful motions, still testing her limits. Your primal instincts take hold of you and you thrust upwards in kind, making her thin figure move atop you in smooth waves. It doesn’t take long before their collective moans form a harmonious symphony that you wish you could hear perfectly, if not for the two layers of silky, thick skin blocking your ears. 

“F-fuck!” Wonyoung whines, clutching at your waist, but the overbearing pleasure coursing through her body almost makes her fall off multiple times. Thankfully, her closest friend is there to keep her on her toes. “O-oh my God, o-oh God—”

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Yujin rests her hands on her junior’s shoulders while grinding her ass against your face, allowing you an endless fill from her slick fountain. “Just hold on. I’m here, okay?”

Wonyoung nods. Unsatisfied with her limitations, her hips increase in pace riding you. She wants to prove she can handle it, and that she’s ready for more of it. Soon, she grows comfortable, fully adjusted to your length. No longer needing Yujin’s help, she helps herself to her own lewd pleasures, using your cock roughly as her conduit. 

Not a single second passes by that you feel your body split in half, moving in two different wavelengths: one half preoccupied with eating Yujin’s delicious pussy, and the other slowly pumping into Wonyoung’s tight, sopping cunt. You’re a quick learner. You know all their sweet spots to hit and create the most satisfying sounds from their lips. Subtlety is the least of their priorities—a point proven when they’re loudly cursing and passionately declaring how good you feel, echoing across several rooms. The rooms might be soundproof, but the entire mansion may as well hear you three fuck.

Between clean licks of Yujin’s wet folds, when she lifts her ass out of your view, you can barely make out her and Wonyoung’s pleasure-ridden expressions. The two friends have begun making out with each other in between lewd moans and whispers, while never letting up the pace they ride you with.  

You’d love to lay in this position forever, as the complementary piece for two of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever met to pour out their pleasure in. But you knew deep down it wouldn’t last long, especially with Wonyoung, freshly recovered from your first session with her. She was always a ticking time bomb with a shorter fuse, accelerated by the now vigorous rhythm she rode your cock. It was always on your mind that this was her first, but she was fucking you like she had racked up a significant body count.

“S-so c-close,” whines Yujin, huskily, the first spoken word in a while that isn’t either your name or some kind of profanity. 

“M-me too,” adds Wonyoung, breaking sequence with a deep kiss of her partner’s lips. There might be no competition, but the twosome’s intensity rises even higher as they desperately chase after that climax. Your body is close to falling apart, cock throbbing wildly, also on the cusp of sweet release, but you’re merely a silent witness with little to no say. You’re just a channel for them to bask in bodily, sexual pleasure. 

It’s all but inevitable at this point. The real question is: who would be the first to cum, the first to start a chain reaction?

Their cries bounce loudly against the walls of the bedroom, past opened rooms as they lose control of their bodies, fucking themselves on you until the dams finally break. Yujin’s muscles spasm and crush you between her thighs. For a moment, you’d think she could snap you in half like a twig. A waterfall and a lake forms on opposite ends of your powerless body, creating two sticky pools on both sides. The powerful double surge of their climaxes is enough to bring you to a full stop, allowing them to drown you in their orgasmic bliss, creating one last crescendo as a swan song to their peaks. 

The wave of Wonyoung’s orgasm washing over your cock should make you orgasm too, urging the tightness in your balls to burn up. Thank your lucky stars you grinded to a standstill right as they came, giving you enough time to put up some form of resolve not to cum in her right then and there. You’ve been holding the impulse for so long, but you wanted your load not to belong to her first.

To your regret, Yujin clambers off you, parting her bountiful ass away from your face and bringing you to the light. Similarly, Wonyoung gingerly slides off your lap, rolls over to the side, wrapping an arm around your body, completely zapped of all her energy. Yujin rests opposite her junior, not as fatigued as she is. She can’t resist giggling when she sees the aftermath done to you, your entire face a canvas for her cum, which you clean with your tongue. 

“You did a number to her. Good job,” she says, darting her eyes over to her tired friend. She plants a finger on your groin, collecting a sampler of Wonyoung’s juices to taste in her mouth before gathering more to put in your mouth as well. Licking her wet digits, she adds, “Tasty.”

Her words barely register in your brain, and so does the little slick she places in your mouth. Your mind only focuses on one particular thing you’ve always wanted to do the whole night besides fucking, and that is to undress both girls and fuck them.

“You okay, Wony?” You turn over to face the worn out Wonyoung, who shoots you a weak but satisfied smile. She lifts her tired arm to give you a thumbs up, as if her beautiful beam wasn’t enough of a reassurance. “You know Yujin and I fuck more than once, right?”

“I know,” replies Wonyoung, coming out as little more than a faint whisper, mirroring her exhaustion. “Give me a minute. Maybe two.”

Eager as you were, you needed a breather, too, and there was no better place to rest than in the middle of two hot girls, lovingly resting their arms around you like they belonged to you.

—————

You take a beat to wipe the nonexistent filth off your chest as the two beauties stride ahead of you towards the desk table. With the way they walk, it doesn’t look apparent that they were railed to oblivion minutes prior. An insignificant detail that quickly becomes forgotten when your eyes take in the seductive and inviting manner they present themselves to you. Two sets of mouthwatering cheeks peek through their particularly short shorts—the most intrusive thing between you and them.

“Come on and fuck us, sweetheart,” says Yujin, looking over her shoulder with that sultry, near-impossible to resist gaze to entice you with sweet, dirty pleas, as if you weren’t already intending to fuck them hard. You always loved to hear those two words, but it’s a lot more special that she’s not alone. 

“You still owe me your cum, baby,” adds Wonyoung, trying but cutely failing to mimic her friend’s motions and sexy voice. There’s still an air of elegance and cutesiness in her projection that almost makes you giggle in amusement, but you wouldn’t dare—not when Yujin’s there, eying your little every move, growing impatient and testy, likely because she would pick her over you any day. 

Count your blessings.

It’s not difficult to get hard again, especially with the delicious sight in front of you. You finally rid the pesky dress shirt they’ve never removed and expose yourself down to your barest essentials. Positioning yourself between their legs, you stroke your cock with your hand, paint flecks of precum on their round cheeks, warming yourself up to embrace their heat. It’s impossible not to give their flesh a good smack as a reminder that their clean image is nothing more than just that—an image, a facade. You know them more intimately than anyone else.

“You two are so fucking hot,” you say, peppering their asses with a palmful, first to Yujin, then to Wonyoung. “And so naughty. I wonder what those people would say when they see you looking like this?” 

“What did I tell you about kissing ass during sex, sweetheart?” Yujin shoots pointed daggers in your direction, unamused. Wonyoung’s not innocent either, following her senior’s eyes with an intrigued gaze. “Put it in already, babe.”

And that was all she said. 

It only takes a moment before Yujin falls back to earth. All of her confidence instantly crumbles as you line yourself between her folds, then promptly invade her tight, welcoming pussy, foregoing all manner of pleasantries. She’s as warm and divine as you always wanted her, made easier and slicker by all the juices dripping and flowing down her toned legs. Her face rolls and slams against the surface, yet it can barely contain her strained cries of pleasure. Frantic nails scratch against the board’s edge as her body reacts to every little jolt, surrendering herself to your every whim.

You don’t leave Wonyoung unattended either. You slip a finger between her soaked lips, watch as her sweet, innocuous face crumbles into something lewd, something corrupted. Her eyes immediately go shut and her mouth goes wide with a whine a pitch higher than her senior before they melt into the desk. She’s a bundled mess, moaning into her friend’s ear as her pussy graciously coats your fingers with thick sheens of slick.

“P-please, o-oh God—”

“F-fuck, f-fuck, aaaaah—”

Their combined voices of strained, distorted bliss, dripping from their pleasure-laden faces spur you on and motivate you to ruin them some more. It’s unbelievable how they present themselves out there with a clean image when they have the most salacious, lewd tongues in private. None of it makes sense, how they could wear skimpy clothing in the sight of the most esteemed and well-regarded people in the room and no one would bat an eye, and they certainly wouldn’t raise an eyebrow with how loud they are as they’re being pounded from behind.

None of that ultimately matters to you. You don’t see two big celebrities in front of you. You don’t see your girlfriend and her partner asking for sex. You only see two of the hottest girls you know demanding pleasure, and you’re more than willing to give them everything.

With one hand gripped on Yujin’s ass and two fingers on the other deep inside Wonyoung’s cunt, you dive in and indulge into their overwhelming wetness. This is the kind of sex you always preferred—without any banter, without any further demands, just mindless submission into each other’s heat, filling the air with only the most pornographic sounds and nothing else. There’s nothing the two can do in response, especially when their bodies are squirming and vibrating beneath you, tightly clinging on the desk for dear life, growing wetter with each pump into their wanton pussies.

Without any voices in your head giving you directions, you have free reign to toy with them, use them as your outlet of pleasure now. So you switch your position behind them, sliding your wet dick inside Wonyoung’s pussy and replacing your cock inside Yujin’s cunt with your fingers. Even as you skip a beat, they’re too enamored in their own pleasures to realize your sudden absence, and far preoccupied by the new presence in their loins to care. 

That’s the sequence you follow: mindlessly stroking yourself deep into their hot, drenched cunt while fingering the other, back and forth, ignoring the discomfort you feel in both your legs and fingers from this disruptive cycle. Your only regret is not being able to see the twisted expressions in their stained features without a mirror to revel in their perfect, pornographic image, but the chorus of moans accompanied by your flesh slapping against their flesh are more than enough of a validation. 

“Going to cum, fuck,” you quietly announce, not wanting to let one seize demand over the other, but their ears catch wind of your little words. They tilt their heads slightly upward, still in the throes of bodily pleasure.

“Please cum for me.”

“Cum inside me, baby.”

Distinct as their voices are, they’re indiscernible to your ears, especially when they’re so husky and strained. Using the last of your strength, you pull out of someone’s pussy, stroke your throbbing cock with your hand, gasping and grunting as you finally let go. Gripping the other hand on someone’s waist, thick streaks of seed stain both girls’ clothes and cheeks, coat reddish spots of pounded flesh, letting it drip down their butt and thighs, to their boots.

The two girls lie motionless on the desk while you cling to their waist, gasping for air, barely holding out after your powerful release. Their legs and ass glow with your freshly coated sheen under the orange lights of the bedroom, and they sparkle brighter than any diamond in the world. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Yujin’s voice brings you back to reality. She’s the first to catch you in her embrace, cheekily smiling. 

Unable to muster up the strength to speak, you simply nod, head still spinning.

“Is it okay if I ask you a question?” Wonyoung asks, having unlatched herself from the table to join in the embrace, pecking your cheek with her soft lips. Your eyes glaze over the young beauty in response.

“Whose pussy was better? Mine or hers?”

A question you certainly have no answer to—nor do you have any intention of answering.

“I guess he’s still undecided,” says Wonyoung, turning to her senior, smirking. “Do you know?”

“Nope. I have no idea either.” Yujin’s sweet grin turns into the same, wicked smirk. 

Something’s wrong; you can feel it. You feel yourself staggering backward, saved only by their embrace of you. Yujin and Wonyoung kiss and moan into your body while moving you in the direction of the bathroom.

Possession of control swings back in their favor. They have you exactly where they want.

“Only one way to find out.”

—————

(A/N: Holy shit this one was an uphill one to create. I'm not a Wonyoung simp, not in the slightest even after writing this piece, but her SBS Gayo outfit made me feel some kind of way. Then there's Yujin being perfect as always. This is barely my new longest fic, topping out at a little over 12K words, and working on it became a chore at times. I only revisited this universe only because of those outfits and how good they looked together. Thank you for reading!)

[acrux-jr]

Meeting Abby -

(Extension of Carousel - prequel)

Summary: What Mike didn't know was the two of you had already met, and Abby wholeheartedly approved.

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: pre-established relationship, fluff, dates

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This was your 3rd date since the carousel meeting. Mike was still well Mike, the more quiet, nonchalant, and tired type.

Mike really was interested in you but his mannerisms did leave you questioning if he did or of he was trying to get a quick fuck.

The two of you sat at the diner, it was 1 in the morning. It was an odd ass hour to have a date but Mike said it was because of his work hours. Though there was a tinge of fear that maybe you were a side chick or he was trying to land some action.

You were wide awake, you had a nap after class so the sleep wasn't creeping on you but it was slowly on Mike.

Every so often he would nod off and blink himself awake, hoping you wouldn't know; you did.

"Do you want to schedule this for another time?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head 'no.'

"You look tired Mike."

He liked it when you said his name, and showed concern.

"S fine. I have a semi-normal shift tomorrow."

"Then you should be sleeping then. I don't mind waiting. "

Mike didn't want to say so he shrugged instead. "S fine," he repeated.

You gave a sigh but nodded. You noticed the book by. "What's the title?" You asked, cutting the country fried steak to eat.

"Oh um it's called dream theory. It's … hmm.. it's about how every single thing we see is stored in our brain in like this deep vault and dreaming subconsciously unlock those tiny details."

"Hmm. I think I've something similar to the whole we remember everything subconsciously but I never really looked into it. Though I guess it could explain my art."

"Your art?"

"Yeah about half my paintings are landscapes, but I don't really remember any of those places when I was too small. Like um when we went to see snow the 3rd time around when I was a little older and able to grasp some things, I remember I dreamt this oasis of cold in the redwood forest, a tree had fallen down and was mostly covered but some red was showing. Anyway, I dreamt it but don't remember the actual day, just that one scene and when I painted it my mom was shocked I even remembered that specific place. I was still small, she even showed me pictures."

"What made it stick out that you mom knew it was the place you guys went too?"

"Oh um hehe yeah, there was this small grave with flowers on it. It was in the painting as well."

"How old were you?"

"Maybe anywhere from 3 to 5."

"And you remember that detail."

"I'm assuming so, the picture my mom showed was when I was like 1 but we revisited again about that age range. There were no pictures at that spot again because of the grave. We recently started going again and I leave flowers."

"That's nice, I mean to leave flowers for someone you don't really know."

"Yeah, I guess. It was such a lonely place for a grave though so I guess maybe that's why I leave flowers, so they're spirits can know someone else enjoys that spot too. They must have really loved it to be buried there."

"You believe in spirits and the afterlife and all that?"

You hesitated, "I don't know. Do you?"

"Maybe," was his short reply. The conversation came to a stop as the two of you ate quietly.

Glancing at the time, you say it was 1:30 a.m. now.

You quickly finish as Mike finishes his. "Come on l, get up." You leave $25 on the table for the food and tip. Mike protests but still allows himself to get dragged away.

The moon is full, and the asphalt is wet from the earlier rain. You jump on the bed of the small beat pick up truck, patting the seat next to you. Mike took the offer and sat next to you.

With the dead of night and few lights, the two of you stargaze. Mike listens as you ramble on and on about the constellations, giving a nodded and humm of acknowledgment to show he's following along.

He looked at you. As you talked and talked, he loved how your hair frames your face, or how he noticed you fret about your mascara even now and then especially if you laughed a little too hard you'd cry a bit, he liked how passionate you got, and he really liked how kind you were.

While he would get praised for taking care of his sister from strangers, for being kind and self-less. He still felt selfish in a way.

He looked at your headband, shiny black and small. Abby popped into his mind. He knew that after texting for a day he was already too deep to let this be a fling.

It became silent after you were done listing the constellations, now just appreciating the night.

Mike cleared his throat to talk, and you turned your attention to him.

"Would…," he breathed out, "would you want to meet my little sister Abby?"

Your eyes widened in shock. While Mike didn't say much, he said even less about his sister. Another reason why you thought this was maybe just a fling, or trial run before he really got out there.

You opened your mom to speak but nothing came out.

Mike sighed and got up. "It's fine. I gotta go-," "Wait!"

Mike stared as you went up, "I wanna meet her! I do, really. It's just I was shocked since you've never like well talk about her."

Mike stared at you still not really knowing what to say. "Look Mike. What do you want out of this? Before asking if I wanted to meet your sister I was kind of getting the impression this was like a fling. And I'm not really interested in a fling right now."

"Oh."

"Oh?" You questioned.

"Well what made you think this was a fling?"

Mike looked down, not really wanting to look you in the eyes. "I don't know, I just got the feeling you weren't too interested. Mike, well we've only been together for about 3 dat3s. I genuinely can't recall anything you like or dislike or memories you've shared. Even when I text you it feels a bit one-sided."

"Oh."

You hummed as you continued to look at the stars, giving Mike some time to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not really a big talker if you haven't noticed. To be honest, I like to listen to you talk. You have a nice voice."

"Okay."

He gave you a look, "Okay?"

"Okay I can work with that. I just needed to know if it was disinterest or if that's just how you are."

"So it's fine? If I don't speak a lot most of the time."

"I guess we'll find out together, but between you and me I like that whole stoic, "bad boy" look / attitude you have."

Mike laughed and smirked. "Bad boy?"

"Mike every now and then you look like a genuine degenerate."

Mike raised his eyebrow. He closed the distance between the two of you. "Yeah? Isn't that what you like though." He whispered before he gave you a chaste kiss.

You blushed and gave a small laugh. "Yes, yes I do."

You brought out your phone and the time read 2:30 a.m.

"What time do you have work?"

"11 a.m. to 5 p.m."

"Mike!"

He had an amused look on his face, "What?"

"Oh my god! Go home already you have work in less than 12 hours ! You still have to sleep!"

"Don't sleep much to be honest." You huffed air out of your nose.

"Well you should."

Mike grinned, and he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "I like the color green."

You smiled back. "Green? Hmm…"

"Hmmm… what?"

"It fits you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah of course, green is a very strong but soothing color."

"It is."

The two of you sat in silence before Mike's phone rang. He looked at it and rolled his eyes.

"Hello. Yeah. Yeah, got it. Okay I'm on my way."

He gave a sigh, "Sorry that was my aunt. I asked her to babysit but I guess something came up at her place."

"Oh okay that's fine. Text me when you get home so I know you made home safe."

He gave a tired smile, "Isn't that my line to you?"

"It would be if you weren't running on minimal sleep."

"Fair enough. But text me too okay, in case I forgot while talking to my aunt or you get home first."

You gave a nod and he gave you another chaste kiss. You blushed again, and smiled. He hopped off the truck and waved bye. You waved as he left the parking lot in his beat up car.

You rushed inside your car and towards home, excited to tell your friends everything.

With texts of 'I'm home,' and 'goodnight' s, the two of you feel asleep dreaming of each other.

A week had passed before Mike brought up meeting Abby again. This date was way earlier and on his day off.

"Do you think she'll like me?"

Mike paused. "I'm not sure to be honest. Not ! Not that you're unlikable or anything like that! She's just a timid kid, hell she barely likes me."

"I'm sure she likes you Mike."

"Yeah well you haven't met her," he grumbled.

You gave an amused look but relented. "So she gets out in an hour right?"

Mike nodded.

"Okay and you said she likes art right? To draw and such?"

Mike nodded again. "Okay, perfect. I'll be back here at 3!"

As you started to slide out the booth, Mike stared at you confused. "Wait where are you going?"

"Don't worry I'll be back." You practically dash out the door to your car.

Mike gave a frustrated sigh and got up after paying the bill. 'I guess I'll just have to wait until 3 too then.' He ran a hand through his curly hair and hopped in his car.

Mike parked at the diner, looking back at Abby. "Okay we're gonna meet a friend of mine okay Abs?"

Abby furrowed her brows, "Your girlfriend?"

Mike nodded. Abby stayed silent. He got out of the car as did she. He held her hand as they entered, he spotted you immediately.

You h/c shining from the sun, you were drinking water while reading a book. Lost in your own world Mike cleared his throat. You looked up at him and then down at the little girl.

Abby recognized you as you recognized her. "Hi!”

Before you could get another word in, Abby motioned you forward. You raised an eyebrow towards who gave a shrug reply but you went with her request.

“Don't tell Mike about Mr. Bunny.” She said in a hushed whisper.

You stared at her then at Mike and then at her again. “Okay. Got it. But why?”

Abby looked at Mike, shoved him slightly to get away from their secrets. She cupped her hand, “Because I want to have a secret between us. I like you, you gave my Mr. Bunny when you didn't have to.”

You gave a warm smile, “ Okay deal. Pinky promise, and seal the deal.”

As you pinky crossed and thumbs stamped together, Mike gave you an expectant look.

Abby slid in across from you and Mike sat next to her.

“What?” He rolled his eyes.

“What were you two whispering about?”

“It's a secret!” Shouted Abby.

Mike looked at you again. “Sorry can't see, those are the secret rules and it's backed by a stamped pink promise. You'll never know.” You have a sad look and shrugg. Abby laughed at your expression and Mike shook his head.

“Well I guess it can't be helped.” You and Abby nodded.

You remembered a thought, “Oh yeah!” You rummaged through your bag and got the present for Abby you bought.

“Here you go Abby. It's a sketchbook for your private drawings.”

“Private drawings?” She turned her head to the side.

You smiled at her, “Yeah, drawings for yourself. I have a lot of them that I don't wanna share because they're private and for me.”

“You draw!”

You nodded and hummed. “Can you draw me something?”

“Uh sure. Is it fine if it's in your book?”

She nodded vigorously. “Okay what do you want me to draw?”

She pondered the question. “Oh! A bunny!”

“A bunny? Hmm okay like a realistic bunny or a cartoon?”

“Cartoon.”

“Yeah sure.”

Mike smiled. “Yeah she's been obsessed with bunny's after some girl won one and gave it to her instead.”

You fought off the smile as you drew, and Abby giggled. Mike gave her a questioning look but all Abby did was stick out her tongue, which Mike did back, only for a split second though.

Mike and Abby watched as you sketched out the cartoon bunny, erasing and redoing the line a couple of times. You finished the outline as food came, Mike ate and watched as you stuck your tongue out slightly finishing up the little details. It had a top hat and a bow.

“Alright Abby, here you go!”

Abby squealed in delight. “Thank you!” She stared are your drawing as she ate, it did resemble Mr. Bunny. Mike noticed that too but thought it was a mere coincidence.

The meal went smoothly, with Abby begging for a shake and Mike giving in. Sitting here, you thought it was nice, maybe something to get accustomed to. In fact, you hoped it was.

♧♤♧♡♧♡♧♤♧♤♧♤♡♧♤♧♡♧♤♧♤♧♡

Y'all I can't stop writing im procrastinating 😩 anyway enjoy!!

Taglist: @stinkii-boii @hellothisisprincesskitty

[iheartyouyou]

SWEETHEART | Jeremiah Fisher

Summary: After your parents file for a divorce, you’re forced to move in with your mom’s friend until the divorce is finalized. You wished you could stay with your dad and your friends, but when you meet Jeremiah Fisher, that changes. And now you’re wanting to stay in the Cousins. Too bad things don’t last forever.

Word Count: 2.0k

Part: 7

previous part series masterlist next part

Authors Note: Fun fact I made this part so long that I had to split it in half. Anyways, no spoilers but the finale of tsitp???? 😍 (Wouldn’t let me tag some people :( )

Why’d you have to be such a complete idiot?

Now everything was going to be awkward. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You barely knew the dude though, and didn’t he have a girlfriend.

You groan as another message from your friends’ group chat comes in, talking about plans for the yearly fair that happened every summer.

How do you tell them to stop talking about plans in the same group chat as you as it’s making you jealous and your life over here is going to shit.

Putting your phone on silent, you shove your phone somewhere underneath your pillows as you exit your room, walking to the bathroom.

“…to the dinner— Y/N!” Belly shouts, stopping you in your tracks as you peeked your head into her room.

She sends you a smile, mascara wand in hand. She motions to her flower crown “Susannah got us these, you don’t have to wear it but yours is on the nightstand.”

You don’t miss the way Taylor rolls her eyes, turning away so she can’t see you.

“Thanks.” You smile, grabbing the crown.

“You should get ready with us for dinner! You know who’s coming? Cam.” Belly says, turning back to the mirror so she can finish her mascara.

“Cam…?”

“Sextus.”

“Oh yeah, that guy. You guys are official?”

Belly shrugs, a blush forming on her cheeks. “We’re also going to a party later, it was Taylor’s idea. Maybe you can borrow some of her clothes so you can hookup with someone there.”

“My clothes probably wouldn’t fit her…” Taylor mumbles, putting on the flower crown as she stares at herself in the mirror.

“I have my own clothes anyway, plus I don’t really want to ‘hookup with someone’.”

Belly turns to face you, one of her eyebrows raising in confusion before it falls back down. “Oh right, you’re hooking up with Jere.”

“What?” You quickly ask, checking behind you to make sure Jeremiah (or anybody for that matter) didn’t hear that.

Belly rolls her eyes, “I totally walked in on some date thing last night.”

“We were watching movies because of a bet—“

“Yeah sure.” Belly sarcastically remarks.

The whole conversation seemed to take Taylor’s interest as she finally turned to face you. “We all know his rep, wouldn’t be surprised.” She said to Belly, even though she was staring at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, “What rep?”

“His “hooking up with everybody” rep. Don’t know a single person here he hasn’t hooked up with.” Belly jokes, finishing her mascara as she shoves it into her makeup bag.

Hooking up with everybody? So, what, you were just another name he was trying to check off the list? Is that why he tried to make a move after barely just knowing you?

“Surprised he hasn’t made a move on me.” Taylor says, putting her hands on her hips.

“Taylor.” Belly warns, rolling her eyes. “Look, Jere Bear hasn’t hooked up with anybody since you’ve got here… well I think, anyway you should be fine.”

“Oh…” You mumble, scratching your arm as your grip on the flower crown tightened.

Taylor whips out her phone, sitting on the edge of Belly’s bed as she scrolled through whatever.

“How do you like… I don’t know, know that he hasn’t hooked up with anyone.. since… y’know.” You find yourself hesitantly asking, shifting your weight onto your left foot.

Belly groans dramatically, “He always comes to me and talks about them, with WAY too many details, it’s so gross but he’s always like “what should I do? should I call them back?” She mimics him in the last part.

Jeremiah Fisher was attractive. Okay, well, he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen and probably the first and last hottie to ever show you attention. And you hated hearing about this newfound information Belly was giving you, and even if you did let Jeremiah Fisher kiss you in that pool, there will be someone better looking and you’ll just be another name crossed off the list.

Belly basically shrieks when her phone goes off, jumping up and down as she looks in between you and Taylor. “Cam’s here!”

-

Can someone please bury me six feet underground?

Dinner was so awkward.

Well, maybe just for you.

But you could feel the awkwardness between you and Jeremiah, he avoided looking and talking to you. It was like you weren’t even there.

And you tried to not look at him, but sometimes you kind of just had to. Like, your eyes drifted there and you wouldn’t even realize it until someone would smack the table from a joke or a loud laugh coming from somewhere around the table.

“So why don’t you eat meat, Cam?” Jeremiah asked, stuffing his food into his mouth.

“Uh, the meat industry is like the number one contribution to global warming.“ He shrugs before continuing, “And I just like animals.”

“Just don’t come for my leather jacket.” Taylor quips, a smile on her face.

So what? She was nice to everybody but you? What the hell did you do to her?

“Pretty sure you mean pleather” Steven jokes, acting offended when Taylor flips him off.

Your eyes feel heavy, you just want to eat, clean up, and go to sleep.

“Y’know, uh, Belly eats meat. So, you let her kiss you with those lips?” Jeremiah says, taking a sip of his water.

“Guys.” Belly starts, already annoyed as her face gets hotter and hotter by the second. “Stop”

Cam chuckles, “I don’t judge people for eating meat, it’s just a personal choice, I don’t care”

Jeremiah continued his questions, “So you don’t mind if her lips touch a dead animal and those dead animal lips touch your lips, right?”

Belly sends a hard kick to Jeremiah, earning a small “ow” as Belly looks over to you for help. You shrugged.

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works, Jeremiah.”

For the first time that night Jeremiah looked at you, eyes wide with amusement. “And how would you know? Have you ever kissed someone, Y/N?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot with embarrassment as you shake your head. “I have.”

He mocks a surprised face, “You just kiss certain people or…?”

“I don’t kiss wannabe playboys—“ You start, ready to get up and slap him across the face if you had to before Cam interjected.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind at all—in fact…” Cam turns, pressing his lips to Belly in a quick peck. Enough for you and Jeremiah to stop talking, as well as the rest of the table.

It was quiet for a few moments as you stared at Belly in shock before Jeremiah and Steven started making gagging noises.

“Alright, alright, Belly’s allowed to kiss.” Laurel defends her, before she points at fork at Cam. “But that’s it.” She then bursts out into laughter as if it was the funniest thing ever.

“Mom, please!” Belly groans, “You’re so not funny, no more wine for you okay?”

“I’m sorry but I just don’t understand why anybody would want to kiss somebody who once fully shat in the bathtub.” Steven grimaces, using his hands to emphasis the point.

“I was like two years old!”

“Two? You were like six!” Steven says, both him and Jeremiah laughing their asses off.

“Shut up, Steven!” Belly shouts.

And after a few more quips back and forth, you zoned out as you played with the remainder of your food. You could hear your moms laughter in the background, nice to know she’s all happy.

The last thing said was Belly announcing they were going to Nicoles party before everybody one by one left the table, cleaning up and putting their dishes away.

You were one of the first.

You managed to escape upstairs after you cleaned up, ready to take a hot shower and sleep until 1 pm before Belly the announcer, once again announced that Cam would be giving you guys a ride as Jeremiah already left.

-

“You mind taking a picture of us?” Taylor asks, already handing you her phone before you could respond. You clench your jaw before nodding, waiting for the two of them to pose before snapping a picture.

Tossing the phone back to Taylor, unbothered to see if she caught it or not your eyes scan the outside of the house. Cup pong was going on near the front door, music blaring from inside of the house and you could see multiple people in there from the windows.

You follow the two girls into the house, Cam following shortly behind you.

As soon as you walked in, someone was sliding down the rail of the stairs. Surprisingly no liquid falling out of the cup they were holding.

“Belly! You came!” You see Nicole come out, her arms held out wide as she engulfs Belly into a hug.

The two shared compliments before Nicole dragged Belly into another room to show everybody else her flower crown.

“I’m gonna go find a drink, what about you Y/N?” Taylor mumbles, already taking off to the living room.

Your eyebrows furrowed, following her nonetheless as a drink did sound good. Taylor was already pouring herself a drink, handing you a empty cup once you were next to her.

She lightly elbows you, motioning you to Jeremiah who was sitting close by. “There’s your boyfriend.”

You look over, seeing how close Jeremiah was to the guy across from him. He was already staring at you, making awkward eye contact before you broke it.

Grabbing the first bottle you saw, you poured it into your cup before taking a large sip of it. And damn was it strong.

By the time you looked back at Jeremiah, he was already making out with the guy.

Taylor scoffs, “Guess Belly was wrong, you could totally find a way hotter guy here. C’mon.” She takes you by the arm, dragging you into another room as she looked for a “hotter guy”

“What about that guy?” She asks, motioning to a guy who was chugging a drink.

“Uh.. no.” You shake your head, confused as to why all of the sudden Taylor was being nice to you. It was if the second Belly ditched her, you were the second best option.

“Yeah, probably not. But I mean any guy here is better than Jeremy—“ She starts, pulling your arm to pull you into another room before you stop her. “Why are you being so nice?”

“What?” She makes a sour face at you, letting you go.

“You were acting like a total bitch earlier and now you’re acting like we’re besties.” You say straight up.

She rolls her eyes, “Are you that sensitive? I’m just trying to help you find someone! Unless you wanna go hookup with Jeremiah over there.”

“Why is it always about Jeremiah?”

“Because he obviously has the hots for you, well had them because now he clearly wants nothing to do with you.” She hissed.

Oh how bad you wanted to smack this bitch so hard right across the face her flower crown would fly off.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Because he wouldn’t stop mentioning you earlier, saying he would be the one to give you a ride here yet you third wheeled with me.”

You gritted your teeth, “Why do you even care? Why are you all up in my business? This has nothing to do with you.”

“Because Belly also talks about you ALL the time! Maybe if you didn’t do whatever you did and messed things up, you would be hanging out with Jeremy and leaving me and Belly alone. I’m her best friend, not you. You hardly know her, actually, you hardly know anybody in this goddamn place so why don’t you go back to wherever you came from and make everybody’s lives easier?” She stormed off before you could even answer, stomping upstairs and leaving you with your thoughts.

You looked around, seeing as a few people were staring your way. You moved around bodies as you made your way outside, itting on one of the chairs nearby.

You hate this place. Just a few more days, then you can tell Susannah you want to go home, she’ll fly you home, you can stay with your dad and never see any of these people ever again.

Taylor was just a bitch who was jealous that her friend had other friends who weren’t her.

Fuck your life.

Taglist: @mindflay3r @lexi-2004 @buckys2thicc @agoodmansaid @jeremiahfisherslover @yourfavoritefangirl @leslienjazzy @natsgaygf @justkayleighhere @puptails @simp4jackharlow @yobabygirlally @whenmypartysover @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @medusaslilsister @maexxc @siriuslysmoking @nowimyurdaisy @totallynotkaibiased @eevee0722 @theyallhaveluv4lyricb @wh0reforstefansalvatore @pariahsparadise @alice3612 @pancakelover837373 @angelbabyyy99 @lillygwenstacy @khloe-193 @buckysh0e @nctma15 @lovelygloomm @ashlenxx @yeosxxx

[juyomiao]

Only ONE - sung hanbin x gn!reader

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16 ☆ one punch man

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chapter warnings: yn punches someone 😁 , written part is shit omg , yeji is mean im sorry yeji fans im sorry midzys forgive me , one (1) xanax mention

written part under the cut (~ 836 words)

this is not your proudest moment. listening in on someone's conversation, really?

but the need to know what's going on is stronger than any morals you might have. especially when you don't trust anyone in the student council except yourself. and hanbin, but he isn't being exactly cooperative lately.

"beomgyu, you always knew i liked hanbin. why are you acting like this is surprising in any way?" you aren't exactly a genius at recognizing people by their voice, but you can clearly tell that's yeji.

"are you serious? of course i knew, but that doesn't make anything you did correct! you're trying to ruin someone else's life over your feelings, if it wasn't for yn-"

something is telling you to take out your phone and record this. if you're going to snoop in someone else's business, might as well get a confession from the actual culprit out of it.

"there you go, it's always about yn this, yn that… do any of you ever get tired? if they weren't part of the student council this wouldn't have happened in the first place! it's their fault!"

"it's no one's fault but yours, yeji."

there you have your proof, you mentally - although reluctantly - thank beomgyu.

"see? you're on their side too! you hate them just as much as i do, you should be thankful i'm doing all of this!"

yeji dislikes you. you let the information sink in for what feels like an eternity, of course you knew it was like that the moment you found out she was behind all this, but you assumed it was all over her stupid crush on hanbin. no, hwang yeji just admitted she dislikes you.

you were never exactly desperate to be anyone's friend, or to be liked by everyone you met, but both of those things were never hard for you. or at least, you thought so until today.

your brain tunes out the rest of the conversation, as you silently stand right by the door, your phone still recording 

"y/n?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, you blink quickly a couple of times, meeting woobin's eyes. "are you okay?" you nod with a small smile "yeah, i just…"

you hear faint murmuring coming from the room, the silence enough for you to pick up a small 'they're here?' that clearly belongs to yeji.

you sigh, finally stopping the recording on your phone and hiding it deep into your backpack before something happens to it. you might be a bit paranoid, but with what yeji has been able to pull so far you wouldn't be surprised if she went that far to destroy the major evidence in your hands.

"yn!" and with that, she's back to the normal yeji you know, your friend. "hi yeji," you can't lie for shit, and everyone there can clearly tell something is up, not only between you two, but overall. beomgyu is on the verge of speaking and probably spill every single thing he found out about yeji, but you keep talking before he can "I wanted to talk to you, but you left my texts on read. is everything okay?" if she wants to act fake, you can too.

"oh about that…. i'm sorry, i had some issues with my phone and couldn't answer your texts," somehow, that small lie sets you off "you have issues overall."

"what?" you can see beomgyu trying to hold back his laughter, turning around to face the wall with a hand over his mouth. "you heard me. you have a ton of issues, because whatever stupid crush you have on hanbin, or your hatred for me, or anything else, shouldn't push you to do everything you did."

"i don't know what you're talking about, yn,"

"yes you do. want me to get the chats? or maybe i should get them from your phone," yeji rolls her eyes. it's only for a split second, but you can tell the more you corner her the more her mask slips off, and the truth will inevitably be uncovered.

the following minutes are a blur to you. yeji keeps making excuses, saying your accusations are baseless, until something tips her off. you don't know what it is, she probably doesn't know either, but she admits to everything.

she admits to stealing the money, framing hanbin, being behind the anonymous number, spreading the word of hanbin stealing through the whole school.

"he was the one who offered to help me cover it up! he felt bad i had to resort to stealing, so he said he'd take the blame if anyone found out!"

"and you took advantage of this and made sure everyone found out," you point out.

she keeps making excuses, saying anyone would've done the same in her situation - failing to realize not anyone has the morals of a rock - how you 'shouldn't act like you're so much better than her, you've probably done worse' . you don't know what took over you, but that's your last straw and, before you can think it through, you punch her.

☆ note: this was wayyy too late im sorry pookies :( i hated the written part ,, well ! see u with a new chapter in ,, whenever i have wifi again idk

☆ SYNOPSIS: sung hanbin is everyone's dream guy: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, he has it all. he's even class AND student council president! everyone loves him, and you, as his vice-president, are no exception to that. having been in love with him since you were 12, you try to tone down your feelings "for the sake of professionalism" and claim it's simple admiration for someone who objectively has no flaws. but there is one small detail you missed, in all these years admiring him: he has an even bigger crush on you.

☆ TAGLIST: (italics = couldn't tag) @hananovi @soobeaniee @idkwatodoanymore @huipinkhair @homohoons @sunnyglower @lethalvenus @sunoksunny @tocupid @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @winteringdream @ikeryn @ilovechanhee @thesiriusmap @heelanat @baekstans @blaycke @vernonfernandez @8turning @yeolsbestie @asteroidchenle @hvnyujiq @hikyeom @r4innoms @enhypen-scholarship @sulkygyu @meowrinz @rikimylove @ridinhyuck @lumixen @neohyxn @ceanairy @beomibeom @cherriegyu @sunwcloud @k4hzuhas @annoyingbitch83 @stickersim @dreamyyn @anawesomeaquatic @softforjungwoo @utopiakys @247hrs @sunswoonie @minhui896 @chanhee-hee @nxurxn @peachysohn @kpoprhia @haesunflower

[beaker1636]

MIW how you met and when they realized they liked you

Vinny

I feel like the two of you would meet through mutual friends honestly, he’s a gamer and clearly enjoys doing it with his friends (his LAN stream) so I feel like you would meet through mutual friends at some get together he’s having

And he’s like woah? A girl that’s playing WoW and not bitching about it? She’s actively enjoying it? She’s not whining all the boys are spending so much time doing it? Maybe I should like get to know her a little bit and make friends

And that leads to active gaming sessions together both when he’s home and on tour

And during said gaming sessions you two grow closer, starting to talk more 1-1 and about your lives, etc.

And one day he’s suddenly like wait, I am constantly checking my messages and shit to see if I’m hearing from her, what the hell is wrong with me?

Truthfully I could see him realizing he likes you and then distancing himself a little bit to try and figure out if he actually likes you like that or not

But once he realizes he does, and he misses hearing from you all the time it’s game over.

Next time y’all play he’d causally make a joke or something about you having a boyfriend just to feel you out, see if you do or not

And the second you say you don’t well, now the two of you have a date planned for when tour is over.

Ricky

I hands down believe that you’d meet Ricky in a way to do with books. For this I’m going with an online book club

The two of you wind up replying back to each others comments a lot and seem to enjoy talking about the books so much that eventually one of you starts your own conversation in the others inbox

That leads to you having more in depth conversations about the books you are both reading and you both find out you are authors

So then you two discuss what you are writing with each other, glad to finally have a friend who understands what it’s like to wake up from a dream with a random idea, to hate what your idea turned into, etc.

Eventually it leads to more personal conversations and you realize you both live close by so you meet for coffee after months of talking online to each other

By the end of that conversation he knows that he can’t let you walk away without at least trying to get a date with you so he asks

A couple dates in he’s convinced this is it, he wants nothing more than being in a relationship with you and finally asks

Chris

Chris low key confuses me a little bit

I feel like you would meet through work somehow, that you were a makeup artist, photographer that shot them for something, an interviewer, something along those lines

And the two of you have to remain in contact to discuss your ongoing project, slowly getting to know each other as time goes on

But you’d have to deal with his stubborn and hard head, because this man is a perfectionist and if the project you are working on together isn’t going how he wants it to he’s going to be up your ass and frustrated

Like we’re talking the two of you arguing for hours because you think this idea for the photo shoot would be better than his, or that this makeup look is better than what he is wanting you to do

But in the end it comes out great and he comes out of his shell, the two of you continuing to talk long after the project is done.

I think it would take him the longest to come to terms with the fact that he likes you

Okay but I just want to know how her day is because she’s my friend

Yeah she’s beautiful but just because I think she is doesn’t mean I like her

Oh fuck, I do have a crush on her

Like he would be pissed off with himself for the fact he likes you, because he’s too busy and doesn’t have enough time to worry about someone else

Honestly I could see him debating if he should continue to talk to you or not anymore because he doesn’t want a relationship, isn’t looking for one

But you’re stubborn so when he tries to cut you off you make sure you still send him a good morning text, or whatever every single day until you finally see him in person

Which leads to a fight, him trying to say can’t you see I’m too busy for this? That I’m not interested?

And by the end of the fight he’s kissing you and that’s how the cookie crumbles

Ryan

He confuses me slightly

He’s really chill but I genuinely think he’d be impressed with someone who is an amazing artist in their own right

Whether that be you’re a fellow musician, an author, etc

So going with musician he sees you playing one night with your band that his friend drug him to go see

And you’re just fucking amazing at guitar, like you blow him away with how talented you are

His friend knows someone in your band so they introduce the two of you and you spend half the night talking about your set ups, favorite brands of guitars and strings, your pedals, etc

This leads to you exchanging numbers and discussing different things musically

He continues to go to your bands shows at the local bars/venues

One day he sees you on stage and suddenly he finds you attractive

Like fuck, has her hair always been that nice? Have her eyes always been that bright? She looks so amazing and happy up there doing it, I love that

And eventually the messages about your music turns into more

And one day he accidentally texts you instead of his friend saying how he’s debating asking you out

And you of course message him back asking him to just ask you so that you can say yes already 😅

Justin

I feel like he’d be one that would 100% run into you at a bar and be like fuck, who’s that?

Admires you all night from afar, maybe buy you a drink

And when the bartender points out who bought your next drink you make your way over

Just to say thanks, not intending to hit on him or anything

And that’s all it is, you say thanks, you talk for a little bit and get along and then your friends want to move on to the next bar so you do, not exchanging numbers

He wishes you both did because the two of you hit it off pretty well in his opinion

A week or two later you are out with friends again and he’s at a bar you are at, and is like fuck this, I’m going to go talk to her

You both wind up talking for hours, long after both of your friends left, giving up on getting you to go with them and same for him.

Next thing you know the two of you are at a late night diner having dinner together and still enjoying your company, finally exchanging numbers before you leave

You wind up asking him out before he asks you, deciding you liked him and it was worth just being forward.

It doesn’t take long before he asks you to be his girlfriend though, you beat him to asking him on a date but he’s determined he’s going to beat you to defining the relationship

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

The Hope in the Fault Lines | Part 3

Part 3 is finished folks! Warnings: some suggestive material, smut in the next part!!! (so minors probably shouldn't interact with any of this), car accident described, death of a sibling, PTSD, nightmares, pretty severe cold symptoms, 97 liners ft Wonwoo make an appearance Word Count: 7.6k

Read part one and part two here!! (and part 4 here)

“Hi, Mingyu,” you say weakly into the phone.

“Hi,” he says. “You sound awful.”

You look around your bedroom, littered with used tissues, cough drop wrappers, and every blanket in your house that doesn’t belong to Sara. “I am awful,” you groan. “I didn’t know one person could be responsible for so much mucus.”

He laughs his charming, high-pitched giggle. “What’s the move, boss?” he asks you. 

“Well, I’m not going to work,” you tell him. “And maybe you shouldn’t either. I’m worried you’ll get sick if you come over.”

He scoffs. “I’m offended. I never get sick.”

“Well, still,” you say stubbornly. Already exhausted from the conversation, you lean against the headboard, coughing pathetically.

“I don’t think you should try to take care of Sara when you’re like this. You should be resting,” he says, his voice taking on that specific color it gets when he’s concerned. “And someone needs to take care of you, too.”

“Don’t come, Mingyu,” you protest, wondering at the blush now rising in your cheek.

“I’m coming,” he says with finality.

“Why did you even ask me what I wanted to do if you were just gonna do the exact opposite thing?” you ask him grumpily.

“Because I know you don’t think you need to rest, but the rest of us do,” he tells you, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes.

“The rest of us?” you ask him, stifling another cough.

“Yeah, like, every single friend you have.”

You lose the battle with your lungs and cough violently for a moment, which is good, because it hides how touched you are that Mingyu has lumped himself with your friends. Then, “fine. But stay out of my room. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I’m not going to get sick. Have you eaten yet?”

Your silence earns a sigh from Mingyu. “I’ll make something when I get there. Hang tight, boss.”

It seems like hours before the doorbell rings and you have to drag yourself out of bed to answer it. The spring day is gloomy, and as you open the door a flood of cool morning air sweeps over you, making you shiver uncomfortably. But there he is, and he’s taking in the sight of you with an eagerness that belies the mundaneness of your meeting. Something seems to have changed between now and the hospital visit, but although words are your life’s work, you can’t put a name to what it is.

“Hi,” he says, and his voice is a little more shy than you’ve ever been used to hearing. The reasons for this newfound bashfulness completely unknown to you, you curse yourself for the way your heart nearly beats itself out of your chest. 

“Hey,” you croak, throwing up a peace sign. You know you look bad. Your hair is a greasy, kinky mess, you’re wearing your worst grandma nightgown, and you didn’t even have the energy for contacts today, so your face is covered with thick spectacles.

He laughs. “That’s a really cute outfit, boss.”

“Shut up,” you say, and cough out a laugh yourself.

“I’m serious! You look like my granny. I’m pretty sure she has that nightgown.” He leans in a little to inspect. “And possibly the glasses too.”

You frown at him, but without any real venom — although a little startled by his closeness. “Cruel of you to tease me while I’m on my deathbed.”

“Speaking of which,” he says, coming into the house after removing his shoes. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Well, as much as I’m already regretting letting you come over, I couldn’t just leave you outside, could I?” you huff.

“I guess not,” he replies. “Where’s Sara?”

Your eyes get wide. “Oh my goodness. I haven’t even seen her today.” Guilt washes over you, followed by a pang of grief. What would Jeri say about you forgetting about her child?

Mingyu’s jaw drops, and he quickly runs to Sara’s room. He comes down seconds later with a sleepy-looking Sara in his arms. “She was awake, just laying there,” he says. “I think she knows you’re not feeling well.”

“Or she knows I suck at this,” you say quietly. “Either way, I’m glad she’s okay.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “You don’t suck at this. You’re sick. Now go to bed before I kick your butt.”

You purse your lips, but obey, trudging tiredly up the stairs while he watches you carefully. “Who works for who?” you mutter under your breath.

“What was that?” he calls up to you, his tone trying for stern but landing at amused.

“Nothing,” you say in a scratchy sing-song voice that makes him chuckle. You pad your way up to your bedroom, shutting the door and tucking yourself in bed. Downstairs, you can hear the muffled sounds of Mingyu making food, presumably for you. You listen with interest -- you can’t make out the words, but you can tell Mingyu is speaking as he cooks. The sudden realization that Mingyu probably talks to Sara all day while you’re gone fills you with fondness; it strikes you as something Jisung would have done. 

Settling into your mountain of pillows, you try to relax your mind. It’s hard, though -- hard because for some reason your mind keeps wandering down the stairs and latching onto the obscenely beautiful man who is making you breakfast right now. No man, not even the ones you dated or slept with, has ever made you breakfast, and Kim Mingyu is managing to do it twice in one week. Are men only good to you if you’re paying them? you wonder to yourself.

Just then, the doorbell rings yet again. Curiously, you wrap yourself in a blanket and head back down the stairs to see who it is, and are shocked to find Mingyu at the door with Cory.

Cory is taking in the sight of Mingyu (in a Christmas apron he probably found in your pantry, still holding a spatula that has a few flecks of what looks like waffle or pancake batter). He looks between the two of you as you come down the hall. “Hey,” you say. “Mingyu, I see you’ve met my editor-in-chief, Cory.”

Mingyu’s eyes light with recognition. “Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” he says, his eager puppy-like energy making Cory blink in confusion. 

“Cory,” you explain, “this is Mingyu. He’s my...nanny.” You hesitate before stating Mingyu’s official job title, because “nanny” doesn’t seem serious enough for everything Mingyu does for you and Sara. 

“Oh,” Cory says, seeming to recover at least partially. You bite your lip, holding back a giggle, as Cory sizes Mingyu up yet again. “I’m sorry, uh, I thought…when you said nanny, I thought you meant…”

“A woman?” you say, raising an eyebrow. You cough, leaning against the wall for support, and Mingyu reaches out an arm to steady you.

“Well, I probably should go finish the pancakes,” he tells you after you finish coughing. “Nice to meet you, Cory!”

Cory’s eyes follow Mingyu down the hallway into the kitchen. “Your nanny?” he says in disbelief.

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat uncomfortable. “He came recommended by a friend who used to work with him.”

“Where? A bodybuilding competition?”

You really have to pinch your lips together tightly to avoid laughing. “So…why are you here?” you ask him after the urge subsides. 

“Oh,” Cory says, shaking himself. “I brought you some cough drops.” He hands you a bag of cherry-flavored cough drops lamely, his usual coolness tempered by the ego hit of meeting Mingyu, and looks at the floor. 

You take them from him. “Thanks, Cory. Don’t be late -- they need you there.”

“We need you there,” he corrects you. “Get better soon.”

And with that, he’s out the door.

You put the bag of cough drops on the kitchen counter and slump onto the couch in the living room. When you make eye contact with Mingyu as he turns around to put a pancake on a plate, you giggle. 

“What?” he asks, a little defensive and a little amused. 

“I think you just intimidated the shit out of my editor-in-chief,” you tell him.

His eyes get wide. “I didn’t mean to!” he protests. 

“I know you didn’t,” you say. Your laughs turn into coughs, which makes Mingyu look even more worried. He moves the now-empty pan off the hot stove and brings you a glass of water, which you accept gratefully. 

“Well, it’s cool your employees bring you stuff when you’re sick,” he reasons, taking a seat on the couch beside you as you drink the water. “You must be a good boss.”

You scoff. “My employees don’t bring me stuff when I’m sick,” you say. “Cory brings me stuff when I’m sick.” You can’t keep the annoyed tone out of your voice, and Mingyu notices.

“You...don’t like him?”

You sigh. “I like him just fine,” you say. But as Mingyu continues to stare at you, confused, you laugh again. “I’m sorry!” you say as his look grows exasperated. “You’re just funny. Um, well. I’ve known Cory since uni, and --”

“He likes you,” Mingyu realizes. His face has fallen from his bemused expression to a stony one.

You nod, grimacing in tandem with him. “He told me the night that Sara went into the hospital.”

Mingyu looks at his hands. “Got it,” he says. “And you don’t feel the same way about him?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, playing awkwardly with the hem of your shirt. “He’s a great guy, but I don’t think he’s quite my type.”

“Well, he doesn’t even know you don’t like cherry-flavored cough drops,” Mingyu says, like it’s the world’s biggest red flag.

“How do you know that?” you ask him, bewildered at this revelation.

He shrugs. “Simple observation. In the pantry where you keep the cough medicine, there’s also cough drops. You have a bag of every single flavor but cherry.”

“Huh,” you say. “I guess you weren’t a spy for nothing.”

He allows a small grin at that. “Or maybe I’m just paying attention,” he says quietly.

It feels stuffy and hot in the living room. “Well,” you say in an offhand tone, “I didn’t realize that not knowing my cough drop preferences was a deal-breaker. But I guess I haven’t really dated in two years. Like, since school.”

“Really?” he asks incredulously. 

“I dated around,” you clarify. “But even while I was dating, I wasn’t really thinking about dating. I was starting a business, I was trying to take care of Jeri, I was focusing on school…and then I got so busy with how well the magazine was doing. It never took priority.” You look around the room — at the baby toys in their basket and Sara’s blankets all over the couch — and sigh. “And now that I��m effectively a single mother, I think that ship has sailed.”

He scowls at this last admission. “There’s somebody for everyone,” Mingyu insists. “And you have a lot going for you, boss. So don’t give up on yourself.” He stands up and grabs Sara’s baby food off the counter, sitting down in the seat next to her high chair and spooning mashed up peas and carrots and sweet potatoes into her mouth. You don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but you find yourself fixated on his hands. They’re big and manly, with a dark purple scar over one of the knuckles the only hint at his past life. But it’s more than that. There’s something about the way they dwarf the tiny plastic baby spoon so it looks like a toy and how gentle and careful they are with Sara’s messy eating, brushing the mush from the corners of her mouth. You find yourself wondering how such a hand might feel through the fabric of the shirt at your waist, or moving up the curve of your spine, or wound in the hair at the back of your head while you sigh out his name …

What the hell? you think to yourself, surprised at this abrupt nosedive into insanity. Suddenly bashful, you swallow hard. “What about you?” you ask him, before you can stop yourself. And as he looks at you, a little shocked, you immediately backtrack. “You really don’t have to answer that,” you say, blushing fiery red and combusting into another fit of violent coughs. 

“That’s okay,” he says, watching you with the same worried eyes from the table. “I don’t mind. When I was a fed, I didn’t have the time to date. After I got out I had one serious girlfriend, we nearly got engaged, but then I think we both realized it wasn’t what we wanted.”

“No heartbreaks?” you ask slyly.

He grins. “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” he says. “Maybe just not romantic ones.”

You bite your lip. If there was ever a perfect lead-in for you to ask the question that’s been at the back of your mind since the hospital, it was that. You start, gently. “You never have to answer any of my questions if you don’t want to,” you tell him. “And I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t refuse to answer, so please let me know if I cross any major boundaries. But I noticed something. About you.”

He looks at you expectantly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you continue. “The doctor in the hospital seemed to know you.”

He smiles softly. “Any theories?” he asks you.

“Mainly that you or someone very close to you had a sick kid,” you say in a single breath, trying not to make him upset. 

He’s nodding thoughtfully. “You’re pretty observant,” he says. “Do you want to open that door?” His tone is still even, but you sense something behind it -- a soberness that is rare for his cheerful personality.

“Only if you feel okay about opening it,” you tell him. Honestly, it wouldn’t change anything if he decided to share or not to share, but you get the feeling that he has carried a heavy burden, unseen, for a good long while. And maybe you hope that you’ll be able to ease whatever you can of that burden. “It’s totally up to you.”

“Okay. Give me a second.”

He puts a lid on the half-finished container of baby food Sara is now stubbornly dodging spoonfuls of. Grabbing a washcloth, he gently wipes off her face as she writhes away from him, then brushes it over her hands and torso as well. Finally, he lifts Sara out of her high chair and into his arms, coming once again to sit by you on the couch while Sara rests against his chest.

He takes a deep breath. “My last official mission,” he begins, “was a security detail for an important diplomat’s wife and son as we evacuated them from the country due to some threats against him and his family. I got really close to the kid. He was six, and he was smart as a whip. Loved cars and toys and dinosaurs, but he also had seen a lot in his short life. Anyway, it took us a long time to get them here, and during that time, the poor guy started getting sick.”

You are unconsciously gripping your blanket around yourself as he tells the story, his soft low voice prodding at your heart in uncomfortable ways, but you are unable to tear your eyes away from his face. He keeps speaking, all while Sara, still exhausted from her own illness, falls asleep in his arms, probably soothed into it by the cadence of Mingyu’s voice. “He had been born prematurely, and his lungs weren’t quite right. But then he got the flu or something, and because of his lungs, it was a lot more serious for him. We fought to get him here in time to get help, and the doctors did an amazing job, but in the end, the bureaucracy of it all made it so he passed away. Doctor Song was his doctor, and she was fabulous, which is why I knew her.”

“Is that why you left the service?” you ask him, and your voice comes out a hoarse whisper.

He nods. “I had seen a lot, but watching that kid die was the worst thing I’d ever seen. Because it was totally preventable if we’d been able to make it here in time.” His voice is so calm, but you can gauge a small amount of bitterness there, softened by the years since. He stands up. “I’m gonna put Sara in her crib. Stay there,” he says.

He’s back in a flash, sitting down a bit closer to you this time. “Anyway. That experience was kind of the nail in the coffin for two things: one was that I knew I didn’t want to be an agent anymore, and the other one was that I wanted to work with kids.”

“That’s quite a career change,” you point out. “Why kids?”

He can’t help but break into a wide smile. “I love kids. Things are so simple to them. And after my last job, I really needed that.”

“Is it hard to leave them when the job is over?” you ask him, thinking of Sara.

He shrugs. “Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s not so bad. The older kids are usually a bit easier because you can explain to them why you’re leaving. They know it’s not really your choice or that they did something wrong. With the little ones, it can be brutal.”

You shift uncomfortably, this vein of the conversation making you inexplicably anxious. “Well, I was absolutely serious about you having a job until Sara moves out. So…please don’t leave us.” You try to feel embarrassed by how pathetic this sounds, but all you can do is meet Mingyu’s eyes and try to convey how desperately you both need him. “And if you’re ever thinking about quitting, just let me know,” you continue, trying to lighten the mood. “I can be very persuasive if I need to be.”

He cackles. “You sound like a mafia boss. Are you threatening me with violence or trying to bribe me?”

“Whichever is more effective,” you joke. “But seriously, this was a very unhappy home just a couple weeks ago. You’ve made a massive difference. So if there’s anything I can ever do to improve your work or your life at all, please tell me. It’s the least I can do.”

Mingyu puts a hand on your knee, poking out from between the folds of your blanket. “Thanks,” he says. “But you should know I really don’t foresee myself throwing in the towel here anytime soon.”

You smile. “Good,” you say, instinctively putting a hand over his and squeezing.

And then you burst into coughs — your most violent attack of the day. It is almost instantly made worse by Mingyu, who springs up to bring you your water, collides painfully with the coffee table, and ends up spilling your water, a potted plant, and a book on neoclassical art all over the floor. The ensuing laughter bubbling up in your chest turns into a gale of coughs, and Mingyu sheepishly grabs your cup from off the floor and limps to the sink to wash it off. He brings it back to you full again. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, sitting down and rubbing at the spot on his shin that hit the table. “I’m a bit clumsy.”

You swallow your water and breathe carefully before responding. “It’s okay,” you say, trying to resist the urge to laugh, knowing it’ll just make you cough again. “Is that why you put all the pancakes on one of Sara’s baby plates?”

He nods furtively, biting his bottom lip. “I actually never use your nice dishes because I know I’ll break at least one, and they’re so pretty.”

The image of Mingyu eating off a plastic Dumbo plate with Sara while you’re at work flashes before your eyes. “How thoughtful,” you say with a grin. “But I don’t care if you break my plates.”

Truly, you thought to yourself as he, smiling widely, brings you the aforementioned pancakes, Mingyu could break whatever he liked of yours as long as he stuck around. 

***

“I’m not leaving,” Mingyu says stubbornly.

“You need to sleep,” you insist in a whisper outside of Sara’s bedroom door. 

“Not as much as you do,” he argues in a hushed tone. “You really should not be getting up with her in the middle of the night when you feel this bad.”

“I’m fine,” you lie, but your raspy voice gives you away — as has the entire day Mingyu has spent with you. 

Shortly after you had finished your pancakes, Sara had woken up. Mingyu had shouted you down from going to get her, instead accompanying you as you went upstairs and then marching you to your room for a nap. “You pay me to look after Sara,” he’d reminded you. “It’s my whole job. So you just rest.”

And you had rested, waking from your nap around 1 in the afternoon by a soft knock at your bedroom door. Mingyu had brought you some ramen on a tray, Sara strapped to his chest in a baby backpack, and his earlier accident ensured his steps were careful and measured. He had laid the try across your lap and bowed. “The queen’s lunch is served,” he’d said, winking at you as he left you to wonder why on earth such a simple thing as a wink could send a chill down your spine.

And then you’d brought the tray back down to the kitchen, and he’d scolded you — “who said you could get out of bed?” — but had relented when you told him you had been so bored upstairs by yourself and you’d wanted to watch a movie on the big-screen TV in the living room. Mingyu had set Sara down onto the fluffy white rug in front of the TV to entertain her for a moment, and you’d watched fondly as he blew raspberries into her chubby belly, drawing out her widest smiles. 

“Ooh, watch this,” he’d said. “She loves it!” He grabbed her thick legs and pulled them up and down in a mimic of a track runner, and Sara actually giggled. 

“Yeah, you’re shaking all the gas out of her,” you’d told him, and he’d laughed.

“She does usually fart a lot after,” he allowed. 

After awhile of searching for the right movie, you’d finally decided to watch Pirates of the Caribbean. Mingyu sat cross-legged on the rug, helping Sara play with her toys, but getting sucked into the movie at periodic intervals. Anytime something scary happened, he would cover Sara’s eyes and look at you in mock-judgment. After the third spooky moment, he exclaimed, “there is a child present!”

You had given him a dry look. “She seems really traumatized,” you had deadpanned, pointing to where Sara was whacking a plastic banana on the floor, babbling contentedly, completely ignoring the screen.

And so the day wore on, buffered by small moments of what you could only call growing comfort with each other. It was partially this that had you so adamant to kick him out — having Mingyu so close and so there was making your feelings all jumbled and weird. And having him stay overnight — waking up in the same house as he did — would most definitely not help anything.

So you try your best. “I’ll pay you to go home,” you beg. 

“And leave you by yourself?” He scoffs. “My mama didn’t raise me that way.”

“I manage just fine most nights,” you protest indignantly.

“Most nights you don’t have the plague,” he counters. “I’ve been around all day. I know how bad it is. You won’t even know I’m here. I’ll even sleep in the nursery again.”

“Mingyu, you’ll get sick —“ you start to say, and then pause. “What did you say?”

“You won’t even know I’m here?” he repeats.

“No, after that. You slept in the nursery?”

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, the guest bedroom doesn’t have a baby monitor, and plus I was worried about her, and that rug in there is basically a mattress anyway,” he says. “But seriously, she’s teething. You’ll probably be up all night, and that won’t be good for your illness.”

The look in his eyes as he says it — almost begging you to let him stay — would be too much under a normal circumstance, but learning that this man slept on the floor to keep Sara company while she was so sick pushes you over the edge. “Fine,” you whisper. “But at least take the couch.”

He grins. “Good to see the lady can compromise.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t push your luck,” you tell him. 

After bidding him goodnight, you close your bedroom door behind you and hold your hand over your heart, which is thumping wildly. This feeling is completely foreign to you — the closest approximation you can come up with is the embarrassing crush you used to have on Steve Irwin, which Jeri never stopped teasing you for. But even that was just enough to keep you interested in his work. It hadn’t reduced you to a full blushing mess as you slid down your bedroom door, a funny feeling in your stomach. You finally understand why people talk about “butterflies” as your insides flutter, trying not to imagine Mingyu stretched out on your couch, his eyelids closed, his pretty lashes brushing the top of his cheekbones  —

“Stop it.” You actually have to say it out loud because it’s ridiculous how nothing has even happened, but you’re blushing. It’s a good thing you’re so ill and exhausted, because otherwise you know you’d be tossing and turning all night. As it is, you pass out only minutes after your too-hot shower.

Your mind is not kind to you in your illness and exhaustion and confusion, though. In dreams you drift around the halls of the hospital, heart monitors beeping suspiciously slowly, producing an uneasy soundtrack for you to glide between rooms to. Your eyes can’t focus on anything properly, so you simply pass through room after room with blurry patients strapped to beds, bandaged or moaning or pale and silent, going faster and faster until you turn a corner and everything changes abruptly. 

Now you’re on an abandoned highway in the dark, and just ahead you can see the wreckage of a small teal vehicle.

You recognize the car, which is blistering in flames, its mangled exterior seeming to bubble grotesquely in the flickering firelight. You scan the interior, paralyzed with fear at what you’ll find there, but it is empty.

A voice is calling your name, a voice you know -- Jeri’s voice. You try to find your own voice to answer her, but when you open your mouth, all you can do is scream. And still, she calls your name, over and over and over again until you suddenly feel yourself being shaken awake by two large hands on your shoulders.

The first thing you register is the stinging in your throat as you wake up, signaling you had probably screamed in real life, not just in the dream. The next is the panicked brown eyes staring into yours, the perfect face they belong to a mask of worry and fear. “Are you with me?” Mingyu says. “Are you awake?”

The last thing you notice is how heavily you’re breathing. You sit up, coughing, while Mingyu watches you in paralyzed concern. “I’m so sorry,” you say raggedly when you can finally speak. “I’m so sorry for waking you up.”

Everything still feels surreal — like you’ve detached from the world you’re used to, like you’re watching things happen from outside your body. What brings you back down to earth is when Mingyu pulls you into his chest and nearly crushes you in his grasp.

He’s warm. Warm like a fire in the winter of your terror, warm like the sunlight after a chilly swim, warm like coming home after a long time of being away. You breathe him in, and everything is suddenly the clean scent of his shampoo and a hint of sweat and just the faintest dash of cologne. And somehow the spinning of the room stops, your heart slows down, the terror eases. You lean into him and close your eyes, letting yourself hold his massive body to you, feeling his broad fingers brush gently down your back and up again, hoping that neither of you will let go. 

“I thought something bad was happening to you,” he whispers into your temple. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“It was a dream,” you say softly. “It was a really bad dream.”

He pulls back to look at you, and a large part of you misses the warmth and the weight of him. This same part of you is rapidly soothed when he pushes some of your hair from your face to see your expression better, searching your face with those same anxious eyes. “Are you okay now?”

You are -- you really are -- but somehow you have the presence of mind not to say that. Instead you nod. “I’m awake,” you say with a soft nod. 

Mingyu sighs in relief. “Give me two seconds.”

He leaves the room, and you deflate into your pillows, exhausted and aching for the feeling of Mingyu’s arms around you again in a way you are not equipped to fight off. When he returns, you see he’s brought Sara with him, blinking sleepily. He slowly hands her to you and then sits facing you on your mattress.

You settle into the weight of Sara on your chest, which soothes you almost as much as Mingyu’s arms had. “What did you dream about?” Mingyu asks you, trying not to sound as worried as you know he must be. It makes you smile a little.

“I dreamed about the hospital and the accident,” you say simply.

“Your sister’s accident?” he asks. “Did you see it? When it happened, I mean?”

You shake your head, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. “No, it was something my brain entirely made up,” you say. “But it felt real.”

He pauses. You sense some trepidation in him, some debate over whether or not to say what he’s mulling over in his brain. Finally he decides. “What happened to them? I only know it was a vehicle accident.”

You give him a humorless smile. “Do you want to open that door?” you ask him, echoing his words from earlier.

“Only if you do,” he says, putting a hand on your knee.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. It is the first time you will ever tell another human being the story. “It was raining,” you say. “My sister and her husband had gone to one of his sales team’s events -- it was a swanky party in the canyon. They were stopped at a stop sign when they got rear-ended so hard they slammed into the opposite railing. Jisung died right there, but my sister was thrown from the car. She lived long enough for someone to find them, long enough to crawl back to the road and get picked up by an ambulance, but not long enough to make it into surgery. She died on the same floor Sara was in two days ago, but the west wing instead of the east.”

Mingyu’s brow is furrowed, his eyes overly bright. “And the other driver?” he says roughly. “What happened to them?”

“They still haven’t found him,” you say. “They used paint chips from the back of my sister’s car to identify the vehicle, which wasn’t registered to anyone living. The police are apparently still looking for him.”

Mingyu looks like he’s about to hug you again, but stops himself because of Sara. He settles for smoothing a hand over Sara’s head and looking at you with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “That’s...unfair. And awful. And so sad.”

You nod in agreement. “It is.” You sigh, and with your breath you release a bit of tension you didn’t know you were holding in your jaw. “I just hope she knew how much I love her.” You think back to the last conversation you’d had — full of love and laughter and the promise to see each other soon. Your eyes begin to water, and you sniff.

Mingyu slides across your bed to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. He holds you and Sara in his arms while you silently cry -- not the shaking sobs of despair from the hospital or the agonized scream from your nightmares, but a release of all the pent-up feelings you hadn’t had time to allow yourself to feel. You spill over with sadness and anger and pain, but most of all with longing for your sister. You want to hear her voice again, make her laugh again, make her angry again as long as you could just have her there. 

And all of this feeling pouring out of you leaves you feeling drained when it’s over. You are empty, but not the same kind of emptiness you felt in the months before you’d met Mingyu. It was more like the emptiness of a backpack after you take everything out, an emptiness that was no longer hopeless to fill. 

After what is probably more than an hour, you whisper, “Mingyu?”

His sleepy “hm?” from above you floods your heart with warmth.

“I’m afraid I should be paying you double. I think you’re taking care of both of us,” you say, still in a whisper. 

“No need,” he says softly, his arms tightening around you for a fraction of a second. “You heard my whole tragic backstory this morning. It was only fair.”

You smile against his chest, and Sara stirs, beginning to fuss. Mingyu sits up but doesn’t let go, looking down at Sara. “She’ll be up crying in a second,” he says. “Let me take her.”

He scoops her into his arms, rubbing tiredly at his eyes with one hand. “Get some rest,” he says, maneuvering himself off of the bed, stopping only briefly to brush one final tear off your face. 

“Sleep well,” he says softly as he closes your bedroom door behind him. 

You relax into the pillows, reaching over to grab the one Mingyu had been leaning against. It still smelled like him. The scent is enough for your overwhelmed brain — you fall asleep in seconds.

***

As he shuts the door behind you to allow you to go back to sleep, hoping that this time your mind stays free of traumatic dreams, Mingyu pauses.

He is in trouble.

He’d known it from that very first day. Because how could someone be so drop-dead gorgeous in their rattiest sweatpants, with their hair a mess, looking like they might burst into tears at any moment? 

And now, three weeks in, it was worse than ever — the light was coming back into your eyes, and that change was stirring feelings in him he’d never felt before. And as he’d heard more of your story, he became more and more enthralled. He was proud of how hard you worked, and he adored your sense of humor, and he admired your authenticity and honesty, but what had drawn him irresistibly to you was the way that you loved: passionately, almost recklessly, with everything in you. From what Mingyu could tell, that love had leached into every single thing you did — it was the reason your business was so successful, the reason Sara felt so safe with you, and the reason your grief was so heavy. Since realizing this, Mingyu hadn’t even stood half a chance.

As he bounced up and down with Sara in his arms, trying to soothe her fussing, he thought back to the moment when he knew he was a goner: when you’d knighted him in the kitchen and called him Sir Mingyu. The way he’d wanted to take your face in his hands and kiss you until you forgot about everything but him was almost criminal. And tonight...seeing your sleepy eyes, and how you’d melted into his embrace...he’d had to grab Sara as a buffer between the two of you, or he might just have risked it all, illness be damned. 

“Ah, Sara,” he whispered, remembering how you’d smiled dazedly at him as he left the room. “What should I do?”

He had tried to keep it professional with you. Tried to leave almost instantly when you arrived home without being rude. Tried to go out on weekends, so he didn’t have to think about you. But the truth was, he always did anyway. And coupled with the fact that Sara, too, had stolen his heart, and he knew he couldn’t love her more even if he were her own father — there was simply nothing for it. He’d just have to come to terms with the fact that he’d never felt more at home than when he was with the two of you.

It’s four in the morning, and Mingyu sighs as he pulls out his cell phone. “Why am I not surprised you’re awake?” he teases when Jungkook answers his call. 

“You know me,” Jungkook says, and Mingyu can hear the filthy smile on his friend’s face. “I never sleep.”

Mingyu shakes his head exasperatedly. “Got plans today?” he asks. “I’m working right now, but I think I need to go out later.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” For all his teasing, Jungkook is a good friend, and he can tell something’s up just by Mingyu’s tone of voice.

“I have someone I need you to help me forget.”

***

You wake up the next morning around 11, feeling better than you’ve felt in days, maybe weeks. You’re still coughing, but your energy is higher and you’re lighter than you’re used to when you first wake up. 

You head downstairs, where Mingyu is nodding off at the table, Sara sucking happily at her pacifier. You sit in the seat next to Mingyu. “Long night?”

“You have no idea,” he groans. 

“I’m feeling a lot better,” you say. “You should go home and rest.” You have to resist an urge to lay a hand on his arm. 

He blinks blearily at you. “You want me to go?”

You chuckle at his tone -- he sounds devastated. “You need to rest. In fact, I’m going to insist that I drive you home. I don’t trust you to drive safely right now.”

Mingyu smiles sleepily, the sight making it impossible for you not to smile yourself. “‘Kay,” he says.

“Alright, big guy, up you get,” you say, unstrapping Sara and putting her into her baby carrier. “Where do you live?”

He gives you an address, which you plug into your phone. Mingyu forbids you from carrying Sara’s car seat and strapping it in the car, doing it himself at a slower pace than normal due to his tiredness. You watch, amused, as he fumbles with the slots the carrier slides into, his eyes half open. Your heart nearly bursts as he finally gets her buckled and places a clumsy kiss on her cheek. 

He sleeps for most of the drive, slumped against the door of the car. When you arrive in his driveway, you have to shake his shoulder gently to get him to wake up. So you let him out of the car and walk him to the door, feeling somewhat worried he’ll pass out on the way there as he stumbles up the walkway. 

To your surprise, he knocks at the door. “This is your house,” you remind him, giving him a worried look.

He chuckles. “Forgot my keys. I have a housemate.”

Sure enough, in seconds the door swings open to reveal a slim, bespectacled man whose eyes widen at the sight of Mingyu’s tired face. “What happened to him?” he asks you. 

“He was up all night,” you say apologetically. “I tried to get him to leave at the usual time, but he just wouldn’t.”

He scoffs. “Sounds like him. Alright, get in here, you big baby.” The man pulls Mingyu inside by the sleeve of his hoodie, and Mingyu collapses onto the couch just visible from the door. 

You watch him, torn between concern, fondness, and amusement, until you notice the other man eyeing you. “I’m Wonwoo,” he says with a small smile. “You must be Miss Boss.”

“Is that what he calls me?” you ask, embarrassed.

“No, that’s what I’ve been calling you,” he says. “He talks about you a lot.”

You blush. “I’m sorry,” you say, although you’re not really sure why.

“It’s fine,” he says. “This job seems better for him than the last few, so I feel like I actually owe you one.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. “Well, Wonwoo, uh...just make sure he rests, okay? Tell him I can come get him whenever and he can drive his car home.”

“Will do,” Wonwoo says cheerfully. “Have a nice day!”

***

[23:23, the following evening]

“Why did I even come here?” Mingyu groans over the sound of the music.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You are absolute shit at forgetting people, you know that?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Not usually,” he says. “I don’t really know what’s going on.”

“You need to be more drunk,” Eunwoo suggests. 

“And maybe flirt with someone else,” Wonwoo recommends.

Mingyu wrinkles his nose in disgust at the thought. “What are you scared of?” Jungkook asks with a laugh. “You said that you had absolutely no chance.”

“Yet,” Mingyu says. “I have no chance yet.”

“And your plan is to…what?” Eunwoo asks, leaning closer and examining Mingyu’s face. “Wait around until your chance comes?”

Mingyu hesitates. Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re a waiter, Kim Mingyu, but you’re allowed to prove me wrong if you want.”

At this, Mingyu rolls his eyes. “You’ve been eyeing the girl in the black dress over there for the past hour,” he remarks casually. “You can talk to me about waiting once you make a move.”

Jungkook watches the woman in the black dress with a tattooed hand on his chin. “Alright, I will.” He shrugs his thin black jacket off, revealing his full tattoo sleeve, and makes his way rhythmically to the dance floor, leaning in to speak to the girl.

“I know that was just a move to get him to go away,” Eunwoo says. “But well done, regardless.” He pats Mingyu on the shoulder. “So tell me, do you want to wait for her?”

Mingyu bristles. “The only thing I know for sure is that I have feelings for her. Beyond that I have no idea what to do about it.”

“Are the feelings you have for her … loving feelings or horny feelings?” Wonwoo asks carefully.

“Both,” Mingyu says through gritted teeth, fighting off the memory of your body in his arms. “How did you know you were in love?” he asks Eunwoo, glancing down at the ring on his finger. “How did you choose Nabi?”

Eunwoo looks thoughtfully into the distance. “She made it easy for me to just…be myself.”

Mingyu immediately remembers how simple it was to open up to you, his heart pounding at the thought. “I keep looking for a disqualifier,” he moans. “Something that would make her…I don’t know. Less…everything I ever wanted.”

Eunwoo grins ruefully. “I can think of one. She’s your boss,” he finishes, stirring his drink with his straw.

“And she told that one guy who liked her that she wasn’t ready to date,” Wonwoo pipes up. “She needs time to figure out what she’s doing before diving into a relationship.”

“So the only thing stopping me is circumstance?” Mingyu asks, frustrated.

Wonwoo and Eunwoo look at each other. “It sure seems that way,” Eunwoo agrees. “And…I don’t know, respect for her.”

“If she wasn’t your boss, and she wasn’t grieving,” Wonwoo points out, “what would you do?”

Mingyu’s cheeks warm with the thought of everything he’d do if you weren’t his boss. If you were ready for him. But he can’t say those things out loud, so he opts for the most generalized version of his answer. “I’d never give up on her,” he says with conviction.

Wonwoo’s eyes behind his spectacles are wise beyond his years. “Circumstances change all the time,” he says simply. “I know you don’t enjoy waiting for things, but maybe the best thing to do is stop fighting the feelings and just let them flow. You’ll either get your shot or you won’t, but if she’s as great as you think, she deserves to be waited for.” Wonwoo sips his water while Eunwoo and Mingyu stare, open-mouthed, at his sudden profundity.

“Damn,” Eunwoo says after awhile. “You should talk more.”

Wonwoo grins. “I would if anyone would listen to me,” he teases.

Mingyu is still letting Wonwoo’s words bounce around in his brain. “What should I do then?” he asks. “Like, right now. When there’s nothing I really can do.”

Wonwoo thinks for a minute. “Well, there’s a difference between what I think you should do and what I would do if it were me. What do you want to hear?”

“Both,” Mingyu and Eunwoo say together. Mingyu shoots Eunwoo an amused look, and he shrugs. “Hey, the last thing he said kind of blew me away.”

“Well,” Wonwoo says, “if it were me, I’d try to hide my feelings until I felt like it was a good time to talk about it.”

“And what do you think I should do?”

He ponders. “Well, you’re garbage at hiding your feelings. When you try, they just end up exploding out of you like diarrhea.”

Eunwoo snorts. “You were doing so well,” he laments.

Unbothered, Wonwoo continues. “So I’d say just be yourself. Don’t cross any lines or confess or anything, but don’t try to hide, either. And wait for her to say something.”

“And if she never does?” Mingyu asks, breathless.

“Die of unrequited love, I guess,” Wonwoo says with a wry grin. “Or move on.”

read part 4 here

[tobiasdrake]

I love the first case of Danganronpa. Right out of the starting gate, the sheer quantity of expectations played with is intense.

So the game's like, "Here you go, meet Sayaka. She's the Maya of this game. She'll be your assistant and help you solve crimes and have witty banter with Makoto. And maybe even love interest? Who knows!"

Subversion: But she's clearly playing you pretty much from the start. Like. You can feel it in every single interaction. She is marinating the shit out of Makoto. Practically every conversation is dripping with manipulation. She's going to murder someone, and she's going to use you as her cover. She is building trust and codependency for her alibi.

And then she comes to you and asks to use your room because "someone's after her" allegedly. And it's like. Yeah. Yeah, this is it. The obvious manipulator who's been playing you from the start is obviously manipulating. She's going to kill someone and let the body be found in your room. This is the other shoe coming down.

Double Subversion: And. Then. The next morning, she's dead. What the fuck? Apparently the person who's after her managed to break into your room and kill her! Holy shit! She's not the first killer after all! She's the first victim!? What!?

This changes e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Was she really marinating Makoto? Or was she just nice, and this whole murder mystery scenario made you paranoid? Everything is different now. Maybe you should have trusted her. Maybe you should have tried harder. Maybe....

Triple Subversion: Oh, no, she actually was marinating Makoto. Yeah, she actually was the killer. Everything was exactly what you thought it was when you were reading between the lines of her "niceness".

It's just that her murder scheme went awry and she wound up on the receiving end of it. She is the killer here but her intended victim wound up killing her instead. (But don't feel too bad for her victim because he actually had the chance to walk away and chose homicidal retaliation instead.)

Like. This is a fantastic opening case. I love it. I love what they did to players, even to savvy players who are able to stay ahead of the twists and turns. This is a well-written murder.

[zalrb]

The First Meetings {SE Fic}

This was fun, though I'm mad I couldn't use all the gifs I wanted.

Elena stood on Wickery Bridge and peered down to the river below. As she examined the water, she saw it all: her parents’ car skidding off the road, plummeting into the depths. The water filling the car. Her father pounding the window. Her mother unconscious. The panic. The fear. The acceptance. The darkness. And then she woke up in the hospital. Her parents were recovering in different rooms on the same floor.  It’d been a close call. Too close. 

            She didn’t tell anyone about it, not her parents or her brother, not her aunt Jenna, not Caroline, not even Bonnie, but every day since that night, she’d come to the bridge. She’d spent a lot of summer mornings just standing here, sometimes sitting against the railing, writing in her diary, before meeting up with whoever or doing whatever. Like a ritual. She couldn’t really articulate why she did it. She couldn’t really articulate how she felt since that night either. Everyone expected that she was fine because she was fine, her parents were fine, everything was fine.

Maybe a week, a month of being jittery -- that was to be anticipated -- but now, it was time to go back to the way things were, the way she was. The only difference she’d really seen with her parents was that her dad had started spending more time with Jeremy, as if trying to make up for the possibility of lost time. But she and her mom were back to their routine. So she was back to hers.

Suddenly -- a caw. The noise disrupted her thoughts. A crow flew by and perched beside her. Elena startled. A crow on the bridge where she nearly died, how fitting. It didn’t leave. It hopped closer to her.    

“Go away.” 

It started to flap around her. What was its problem? “Shoo!” Stubborn damn bird. She turned to bat it away only to find the crow gone and a dark-haired man standing behind her. Her hand flew to her chest.

“Oops,” he said, his blue eyes glinting. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Elena didn’t answer right away. “I just didn’t know anyone else was here.” 

He was grinning at her. Elena didn’t know how she felt about it. It was playful but there was something else there to it, something that made her a bit uneasy, like she should be ready to run at a moment’s notice. She blinked at him. Wait a minute… 

“I know you,” she said, taking in the leather jacket, the blue eyes, the smile that in a second could turn to a leer.  

They’d met months before. Four months before to be exact. On the night of the crash. Before everything changed. He’d come out of nowhere, just like he did now, and he thought she was someone else, someone called … what was that name, it’d been a ‘k’ name or a ‘c’ name…

            “I do have a pretty unforgettable face,” he said now. 

            Elena nodded. “D..Da…Damien, right?”

            He paused, something sharp and painful flitted over his face and then it was gone. “Damon,” he corrected. 

            Right. That was right.

“You should be careful out here, all alone.” He gestured around the empty bridge. 

            Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it’s kind of creepy that you’re out here in the middle of nowhere. 

            You’re one to talk. 

Pieces of the conversation they’d had in May were coming back to her as he said, “Been catching up on the local news.” 

Elena swallowed hard. “Yeah, it’s weird, you know, because all my life, there’s never been a single animal attack and now suddenly it’s like bears and wolves and coyotes.” 

“Oh my!” 

Elena stared at him. 

“Wizard of Oz.” 

“Funny,” she said.

Why did she feel so tense? Why did it feel like he’d cornered her somehow?

When she’d met him that night, she’d felt … well, it’d been weird,  but it’d been somewhat intriguing. He’d been somewhat intriguing.  You want what everybody wants… 

“Animal control’s been out so it’ll all die down soon,” she said.       

“Unless it isn’t animals.” 

Elena narrowed her eyes, trying to sus him out. “Why? You know something everyone else doesn’t?”

            “Oh, I know a lot more than ‘something’.” 

She shivered. It didn’t feel … her heart rate was steadily picking up. Why was something so simple so nerve-wracking? So stressful? She should walk away but she didn’t feel released from the conversation. He seemed to sense her trepidation because he took a step back and loosened his demeanour, like he was trying to appear non-threatening. He’d done that the last time they’d met too.

            “So what are you doing here? Isn’t school starting?” 

            Elena bit the inside of her lip. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

            “I ain’t getting any younger.” 

            Elena paused. She didn’t know if she wanted to tell him or not, but she somehow felt like she had to. 

“A few months ago, the night I saw you actually, my parents’ car skidded off this bridge. We almost died, it’s a miracle we didn’t.” 

“You come back to the spot where you almost died?” He raised his eyebrows. “Seems a little morbid.” 

Elena pressed her lips together. “Yeah, I can see how it seems that way.”

“What does the boyfriend think about this? You know, the one you got into a fight with?” 

Good memory.

“Matt?” Elena thought about him showing up to the hospital, taking her hand in his. Then showing up to her house, anxious to make sure she was doing OK. Then his back as he left when she told him… “We broke up.”

            “Figures,” said Damon with a shrug. “Seems too much like a country bumpkin for a gal like you.”

Something in Elena switched and her tone grew firm. “I was in a weird headspace when I talked to you that night but I would never talk down about Matt. OK? You don’t know him so you shouldn’t either.” 

He shrugged. “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” 

“But you haven’t seen anything.”

He squinted his eyes at her and Elena didn’t really know what that meant. She couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t hurt her but  she couldn’t be sure that he would.

“You’re right, you know, I should get to school. Don’t want to be late my first day.” 

“Want a lift? I got a sick ride.” 

“Thanks,” said Elena slowly, picking up her school bag. “But I’m kind of taking a break from cars…” 

“Suit yourself.”

His eyes twinkled and Elena smiled somewhat awkwardly before taking off down the bridge, and when she was sure she had enough distance between them, she slowed down and exhaled, before picking up speed again at hearing another caw.  

*

She’d made it to school quicker than she thought she would. People were still outside, finishing homework or gossiping or playing hacky sack like they were in some weird retro movie. Elena stopped walking, taking a moment to properly breathe and unclench from her talk with Damien or Damon or whatever on the bridge, and glanced around for Bonnie or Caroline. 

“Look out!”

Everyone looked around, and then up. By the time Elena followed suit, it was too late. A football. Spiraling in the sky. It was soaring toward her and in a second it was going to connect. With her face. Elena already knew it was going to be bloody. Bloody and embarrassing and painful. 

Someone was calling her name. “Elena!” Maybe Matt? “Elena, watch---”

Out of nowhere, someone came in front of her, catching the football before it could hit her.

He wasn’t even looking at it. His head was turned toward her, his eyes peering into hers for any hint of impact or injury. She could get lost in those eyes -- that brilliant green. She was lost. Elena’s lips parted.

“You saved me,” she said, with a gasp of disbelief. 

“You all right?” The boy’s tone was soft but his expression was focused, intent on her, and almost smouldering with concern. She could do nothing but blink. It took her a moment to realize that she was actually holding her breath again. It took her another to realize that it wasn’t because she’d almost been pummeled by a football. 

“Sorry! Yes! Yeah, yeah, I’m --- thank you.” 

His gaze lingered for a second before he turned around and threw the ball back. It whipped through the air at a speed Elena didn’t think she’d seen before. She chuckled. She couldn’t be sure if it was because of the adrenaline or because she was impressed. 

“That was incredible. How did you throw it like that? How did you catch it like that?”

            He shook his head. “I saw that it was coming toward you, and I just reacted, I guess.”     

Elena felt suddenly and unexpectedly embarrassed, as if that had been the most intimate thing she’d ever heard.  She was vaguely aware that they had an audience but she saw no one else, just blurs and shapes, this boy’s chiseled face the only thing she could see clearly. 

“So, does my hero have a name?” She hoped he could sense the playful irony in her tone and her eyes widened slightly at the possibility that he couldn’t. She spoke quickly to fill in the silence. “Mine’s, um, I’m Elena.” 

He smiled at her, his eyes glinting with … what was that? Amusement? Charm? Was he charmed? Did she charm him? Why was her heart beating so fast?

“Stefan.” 

            She nodded and bit her lip nervously. “I’ve never seen you around before. I would’ve remembered.”

            That last part was unnecessary. Oh God.

            “Uh,” he grinned, like he didn’t know what to do with the compliment. “I’m sort of new here. My family has roots in Mystic Falls, I was born here but I moved away a while ago. I just came back.”

            “Just in time,” she said.

            He looked at her curiously. “For?”

            Me. Wait, what?

            “Uh, well, our football team is in desperate need of saving. And with reflexes like yours, we might actually have a shot at not being a complete joke this year. Tryouts should be this week.” 

            Stefan made a face, like he wasn’t certain.

            “You should do it for your moral fibre,” she continued. 

            He laughed at that.

“No, seriously,  wasn’t it, uh, Camus!” Elena said his name like she was answering a question on a game show. “Wasn’t it him who said everything he learned about morality and obligation he learned from football?”

Stefan licked his lips and Elena did her best to keep her gaze eye-level.

He smiled. “He wasn’t talking about American football.”

“There’s non-American football?” 

“Soccer.” 

Elena cringed. “Oh. Right. I knew that.”

He shrugged it off. “Common mistake.” 

            He was kind. Elena brushed her hair from her face. The bell rang and everyone started moving toward the building.

Stefan gestured in front of him. “Shall we?” 

Elena couldn’t help but smile but tried to control how widely. “We shall.” 

They started toward one of the school’s entrances and even walking side by side, he kept his attention on her.

“So, you read Camus?”

“Yes. No. Well, I’m trying.” Elena couldn’t understand why she was rambling. Maybe she’d stop if he’d stop looking at her. 

“I had something sort of happen to me a few months ago  and it - uh - it - it changed things for me, not everything, a lot of things. Well, maybe not a lot of things, but some things…” Why couldn’t she just shut up? “So I’m trying to do … things.” Elena, she admonished herself, stop saying ‘things’. “Kind of like a New Year’s resolution just not on New Year’s…” She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. If the universe had any decency, it would open up a hole in the ground that would swallow her up.

“That didn’t make any sense did it?” 

            Stefan grinned. “I get it. You have a new perspective now and because of that, you’re trying to do things you wouldn’t have before.” 

            That was exactly right. “Wow, you make talking look so easy.” 

            “Years of practice.” 

            She laughed at that. She didn’t remember a time laughing this much, this genuinely in such a short period of time.

They were in the hallway now and Stefan had stopped walking. Elena had the horrible feeling that he was going to head in the opposite direction of her and that it was time for them to go their separate ways. 

“Thanks again,” she said.

“Any time.”

            She moved to continue the way they’d been walking the same time he moved to walk down the opposite way.

They did that a few times before he stood to the side and let Elena pass.

            “Thanks,” she said, hunching her shoulders, embarrassed.

            She should keep walking. It would be smoother that way. Cool. Indifferent. Unaffected. It’d be what Caroline would tell her to do. She was almost around the corner. No, she couldn’t help it. She felt drawn back. A pull. She had to see him one last time. She turned her head and felt a jolt when she saw that he’d been watching her the entire time. 

*

The rest of the morning went by in a bit of a haze. Truthfully, like most of her days since the accident. And then everything suddenly brightened to a sharp clarity just before lunch. History class. Her eyes went right to him when she walked into the room and she felt locked in even though Stefan didn’t seem to notice her. Before he could catch her staring, before Matt -- who she’d realized a second too late was also in this class -- could feel any worse, she sat down.  

Mr. Tanner had been droning on for fifteen minutes but Elena wasn’t paying attention. She couldn’t even if she wanted to --- her thoughts wouldn’t let her neither would her body. Everything in her seemed to respond to Stefan’s mere presence being in the same vicinity. As if she were being called to. Which was crazy, she thought, because she didn’t even know him. 

            Casually. Very casually. She turned her head to glance at Stefan. A second later, his gaze met hers and embarrassed excitement bloomed in her chest, making her turn away immediately, a smile lingering on her face.  

“Am I boring you, Miss Gilbert?” 

Mr. Tanner saying her name made her flinch.

She wasn’t expecting it and so answered without thinking. “Kind of.” She was snapped back into reality when she heard the rest of the class titter with excitement. “Sorry, no, I didn’t mean---”

“No, no, you spoke your mind, don’t be a coward, own it. Let’s do something to correct your disinterest in my class.”

“Mr. Tanner, really…”

“Pop quiz,” he said, leaning against his desk. “The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls. How many casualties resulted in this battle?”

            Elena had no idea. It had to be a lot, right? It was a battle. “A couple hundred at least.” 

            “Are you guessing?”

            “Well, I’m trying,” she said helplessly. 

            The class laughed.

“It would impress me more if you just owned up to not knowing.”

“OK then, I don’t know.” 

Mr. Tanner sighed. “I was willing to be lenient last year for obvious reasons, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break.”

“There were three hundred and forty-six casualties,” said a deceptively light voice. “Unless you're counting local civilians.”

            Elena looked behind her. Stefan was looking at Mr. Tanner with a pleasant expression on his face.

“Thank you, Miss Gilbert.”

Stefan smiled. Entirely un-intimidated.

“Your name?” 

“Stefan. Stefan Salvatore.” 

“Salvatore. One of the Founding Families.” 

“Distant relative.”

Elena saw Matt mutter beneath his breath. It looked like it could’ve been ‘of course.’ 

Mr. Tanner nodded, as if deciding on how he would play the rest of the scenario. “In any case, you’re correct. Except, of course, there were no civilian casualties in this battle.”

“Actually, there were twenty-seven, sir.”

Mr. Tanner raised his eyebrows. “Twenty-seven?” 

“Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great loss.”

Elena felt suddenly moved by that. Something in Stefan’s tone, in his expression told her that he was no stranger to loss. It was almost like he could feel the pain of that day as if he'd lived it.

“The founder's archives are, uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner.”

Elena’s mouth fell open in gleeful shock and admiration.  

Mr. Tanner’s eyes flashed. “Cute,” he said. “You know I let it slide before when you swooped in to save Elena, no doubt to impress her, even though I didn’t call on you to speak but I won’t tolerate rudeness. Pack up, go to the office.”

“Well, don’t get upset at him because he knows more about your subject than you,” said Elena. 

The class tittered again and Stefan shot Elena an amused expression. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

Mr. Tanner let out a nasty laugh. “Well, isn’t this sweet, the lovebirds defending each other. You can join him in the office, Elena. Come on, let’s go.” 

Outside in the hall,  Stefan was already walking in the direction of the office and Elena reacted. 

“Hey,” she called out. 

He turned around. She didn’t really have a plan. She just didn’t want to go to the office and she didn’t want him to go either. She wanted time. She realized right then and there, she would probably always want more time with him. 

Elena walked over to a door and pushed it open. She tilted her head -- you coming? He grinned. 

They decided to walk around the track, spending a few moments just ambling next to each other  as the sun beamed down.

It was weirdly comfortable. Elena didn’t feel the need to talk to fill the silence. It was also strange how calm she felt. Earlier, being around him made her nervous, light-headed, and now she just felt ... anchored.

She’d never experienced that before.

“Bit bold of you, you know,” she said finally. “New school, new - well - old town, but first day and you’re already making trouble?”

“Well, I live on the edge.” 

Elena giggled. “I can see that.”         

“What about you? Mouthing off to a teacher on the first day? Very edgy,” he said, deadpanned. 

She snorted. “Well, I nearly died. What’s your excuse?” 

He turned to her then and Elena mentally kicked herself. 

“That the thing that got you on your not New Year’s resolution?” he asked. “What Tanner was talking about?” 

            Elena brushed it off. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

            “Why not?”

            “Because it’s…” 

            She glanced sideways at him to see if he would just change the conversation to something else he wanted to talk about but his expression was interested. Open. 

“My parents and I got into a crash last May. Over on Wickery Bridge.” She shrugged. “That’s it, that’s the story.”

“Mm,” he said. “Maybe that’s what happened but it’s not the story.” 

How did he know that? 

“You don’t like talking about it.” The way he said it, Elena knew he wouldn’t press the subject if she didn’t feel like continuing.  

“I just don’t really feel like I can say anything about it,” she found herself saying. “I lived, you know, I survived. My parents survived. I shouldn’t…”

“Have feelings about it?”

Elena had never really thought of it like that before.  “Everyone’s just so ready for it to be in the past, you know?”  

“A car crash isn’t a little thing. Nearly dying is the most transformative thing you can experience. It’s OK if you’re not OK about it right now. There’s a lot to process.” 

“You know, I go to the bridge everyday? The spot we skidded off and into the river. Morbid, right?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Seems like you’re trying to keep a promise to yourself. Going to the bridge helps remind you of that.” 

“Yeah.” The word barely came out as a whisper.

How did he know that? Know her? Elena felt … recognized. And bare. Yet … safe. This. Was. Crazy.

“A promise…” She repeated. “And that’s the other thing too, it’s like it’s made me restless. Like, I got a second chance, a miracle, who gets that in their lifetime, you know? And I don’t want to waste it. But everything seems dumb and superficial now. I just want to live, you know, live with … with, uh--” 

“Passion?”

            She nodded. “Right.”

“In my experience, it’s the dumb stuff, the small stuff, that’s what makes up living. By all means, if you want to climb Everest, climb Everest, you know, but going to a concert or a pickup game or …

            “Family night,” said Elena.

            “Who says you can’t do those things passionately?” 

            Elena didn’t remember when they stopped walking but they were standing now

and the feeling … that feeling … of being recognized had deepened into something more acute, more intense and she felt the urge, the need to be that person, that space for him. Right then and there, she wanted to pour into him, and wanted him to ---

A crow cawed. 

Breaking the reverie. 

Elena turned sharply toward it. She couldn’t be sure but it seemed like the same one from the bridge. As soon as the thought entered her mind, Damon’s face flashed before her eyes, and she took a deep breath in. Stefan touched her arm. She wanted him to keep her hand there forever.

“You OK? Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” she said. “I’m here. I…” She took another breath and looked around for the crow. It was gone. “The crow … it reminds me of someone. Someone I saw earlier, before school.” 

“Someone you know?” 

“No. Not exactly. I’d met him once before.” She closed her eyes, searching for the words to describe what was happening to her. “I don’t know, since then there’s just been this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It went away for a bit, when…” When she was talking to him. When she was relaxed. “But it just came back. It’s like something I can’t seem to shake.”

“Sounds like he made an impression.” 

She looked at him. “There are better impressions, believe me.” 

            Stefan’s eyes searched hers and it happened again. Immediately. He was drawing her into him and she was falling and falling...

“Hey, your face. Is there something---”

            “Sorry.”  Stefan shielded his eyes from her. “Sorry, I … sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

            “Uh…”

            Elena watched Stefan walk away, his stride swift, and felt a sharp stab of disappointment that they were no longer talking, no longer in the same place together,

            A few seconds later, the bell signalling lunch rang. 

*

The moment Elena opened her locker, it was slammed shut and her best friend, Bonnie Bennett, was standing beside her. Elena let out a sigh of relief. “Bonnie! Why did you--?”

“You and the new hottie. The whole school’s talking. Dish.” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” said Elena casually. Too casually.

Bonnie looked at her. “That always means there’s something to tell. And I can tell because---”

“Because you’re a psychic now?” 

“Because I was sitting by the window in calc. and I saw the two of you walking around the track. And you two were vibing. Don’t deny it.” 

“Oh, please.” 

“Aimee Bradley said that he defended your honour in Mr. Tanner’s class. She said he cussed Tanner out and stormed out of class..”

Elena made a noise of disbelief. “Since when did you listen to Aimee Bradley?”

Bonnie shrugged. “She’s not the only one saying it.”

“That literally did not happen! He just---”

Elena was interrupted. 

“Well, your nose doesn’t look broken,” she said, nudging her way between Elena and Bonnie. 

“Hi, Caroline.” 

Elena exchanged a quick look with Bonnie who tried to stifle a laugh. 

“And what do you mean my nose doesn’t look broken?” 

“Oh, everyone’s talking about how Matt threw a football at your face to get back at you for dumping him and the new guy beat the shit out of him on the green.”

“What!” Elena looked at Caroline incredulously. “Oh my God, guys! Nothing you’re saying happened! Someone --- not Matt, he tried to warn me -- threw a football, it almost hit me and---”

“And the new guy saved you from massive embarrassment on the first day?” said Caroline. “It’s just so typical. There is a finite amount of hot guys at this school and when we finally get new blood, you get there first. You’ve already dated the captain of the football team, you had this encounter with some mystery man---”

Elena unconsciously tensed at the memory and Bonnie looked at Caroline pointedly, who closed her eyes.

“Sorry, I’m a bitch,” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought up that night.” 

Elena sighed, half-exasperated but already on her way to forgetting the insensitivity. “I never said that guy was hot by the way.”

“Oh, please, mystery men are always hot. It’s like a rule,” said Caroline, apparently over her brief bout of contrition. 

Elena addressed Bonnie. “You know I actually saw him again today before coming to school?” 

Bonnie shook her head. “Really?”

“Yeah, the vibes were … weird.”

Bonnie squinted. “Weird, like, dangerous, weird?” 

Elena opened her mouth but didn’t say anything . “It was definitely intense. But not like…” Not like what she’d felt when she spoke to Stefan. “I don’t know, it kind of made me queasy?” 

“Butterflies,” said Caroline, throwing up her hands. “So, the sexy, dangerous mystery man gives you butterflies--”

“I never said--”

            “And now you’ve got the other mystery guy who actually goes here saving you on the green like some freaking knight?”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. He caught a football.” 

But even when she tried to minimize what had happened verbally, physically she felt her heart thud and a jittery, giddy flutter in her stomach that made her want to laugh to get the feeling out.

“And stood up to Tanner on your behalf,” said Bonnie. 

Caroline shook her head like she was severely disappointed in Elena.  “You’re being so greedy.”

Bonnie snorted and rested her head on Caroline’s shoulder. 

Elena opened her locker again.  “Look, I’m not even thinking about Stefan.” 

            “So the new guy’s name is Stefan.” 

“I could be talking about the mystery man on the bridge.” 

“You’re not, I can tell by that big, dumb smile you’re trying to hide,” said Bonnie. 

Elena popped her head out from behind her locker door and gave Bonnie a playful grimace.  

“Anyway. I’m actually thinking about Jeremy. I haven’t seen him anywhere. Have you two?” 

Caroline rooted around in her bag for some lip gloss. “Elena, if I ever start caring about the comings-and-goings of sophomores, shoot me.” 

“That’s Caroline-speak for ‘no’,” said Bonnie. “And I haven’t either.”

“I’m kind of worried. He never skips school.” Elena pulled a contemplative face. “Bonnie, do you mind if we, like, quickly go over to my house to see if he’s there? I’m sure there’s something in the fridge we can eat so we won’t miss lunch.” 

Caroline made an expression as if Elena had said the dumbest thing she ever heard. “In all of the times we’ve skipped school, when have we ever stayed home? He’s probably at the stoner’ pit or something.” 

Bonnie snorted. “Yeah, Jeremy, a burnout. Please.” 

“No, he could be at home. I don’t know, all summer he’s either been on his Xbox or pining after Vicki Donovan. Maybe he’s pretending to be sick and he’s still in his room.” 

“If he’s been pining after Vicki Donovan then he’s definitely at the stoner pit probably trying to impress her..” 

“Caroline!” Bonnie gave her an admonishing hit on the arm. 

“What! You know I’m not wrong.” 

“Don’t be mean just because you’ve had a thing for Tyler since fifth grade.” 

“Shut up.” 

            Bonnie laughed. “Elena, I’ll give you a lift.” 

*

“Since when was your family pack rats?” said Bonnie. 

            They’d made it to Elena’s house and walked into the foyer. The closet beneath the stairs was open and there were a bunch of boxes around the door, crammed with what looked to be junk. Papers. Dusty journals. 

            “I don’t know, this wasn’t here when I left this morning,” said Elena. 

            “You think Jeremy took it out?”

            “Yeah, but why?”

            Bonnie shrugged.

            “Jeremy?” Elena called. 

            When there was no answer, she walked into the living room and didn’t see him there or in the kitchen. 

            “Some leftover spaghetti in the fridge,” said Elena to Bonnie. “I’m just going to check upstairs and then I’ll be right down.” 

            Bonnie nodded. “OK cool. I love pasta night at your house.” 

            “It’s the oregano,” said Elena, grinning. 

            She headed up the stairs. She could definitely here talking. Low talking. But it wasn’t coming from Jeremy’s room. She turned around.  It was coming from her parents’. It was the middle of the day. Neither one of them should be home. Elena felt like suddenly she shouldn’t be up there. Something was wrong or secret or … She walked slowly down the hall toward the room. The door was nearly closed, but not quite. She peaked through the crack. Jeremy on a chair. So, he did stay home. And then … Dad. He let him stay home? And then … was that … was he holding … a stake?    

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic, Chapter 3

Pairing: Platonic Steven Grant x Reader (for now)

Rating: T

Word count: ~2600

Story Summary: Steven meets a beautiful woman in the Egyptian exhibit at the British Museum...

...Too bad she's his new boss.

Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent since Steven still works for the British Museum post-canon, No Jake Lockley, developing friendship, boss/employee relationship (of sorts)

A/N: Here's chapter 3! I'm still not quite sure how long this will be, but hopefully I'll have an idea soon since I know where the plot's going.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this or any of my stories, please let me know!

Title from the song of the same name by The Police.

“...So, what do you think?”

Steven turned as Christina walked up next to him. He had been in his new position for a few weeks and was attending his very first members-only museum gala. “There's quite a lot of people here, isn’t there?” he replied.

Christina shrugged. “Usually it’s the same bunch of trustees and benefactors wanting to brag about their ‘generous’ donations while simultaneously making sure of where said donations are going, but yeah, there’s definitely more members here than usual.”

“Have you seen Dr. Y/L/N yet?” 

Christna shook her head. “No, but I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

She waved at someone. “Oh, if you'll excuse me, I just saw one of my old professors from uni. I'll catch up with you later, okay?”

Steven nodded. “Yeah. Laters, gators.”

Once Christina had left, he continued looking around the room. Maybe I should walk around, see if I spot her.

Good idea, Marc replied in his head.

Steven took a single step before someone moved out of his line of sight, revealing Dr. Y/L/N.

She had traded in her usual business attire for a silky floor-length purple dress with a shimmery beaded bodice and a pair of high-heeled shoes. On her left wrist was a wide, flat, silvery bracelet that reminded Steven of the bangles that Egyptian queens were frequently depicted wearing while a double-layer teardrop diamond necklace rested at her throat.

Steven’s breath caught. Gods, she’s beautiful.

Stunning, Marc agreed.

Dr. Y/L/N was engaged in conversation with an older gentleman that Steven vaguely recognized as one of the museum's trustees -- or from what Steven could tell she was actually being talked at while she discreetly looked around for an escape route.

She smiled as Steven caught her eye, then while the man speaking to her was briefly distracted by a passing waiter she made a face before quickly schooling her features back into a blank mask.

Steven chuckled and shook his head as the man turned back to Dr. Y/L/N and began speaking again while she pretended to be interested.

Go help her, Marc said.

How?

I don't know, make something up. Say you need to talk to her about something important.

Steven downed the glass of champagne he had been holding just to have something in his hands and set the empty glass down on a nearby table. “Right, off I go then.”

He walked over towards Dr. Y/L/N. “Dr. Y/L/N, there you are!”

“Ah, Steven!” Dr. Y/L/N replied, looking relieved. “Cohen, this is Steven Grant, our absolutely brilliant Visitor Engagement Specialist here at the museum. Steven, this is Cohen Robbins, one of the museum's benefactors and member of the board.”

“How do you do,” Cohen said, shaking Steven's hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Steven replied. 

“Steven has been instrumental in improving the museum's visitor numbers,” Dr. Y/L/N continued. “Just in the past month that he's been in the position we've more than doubled our guided tour numbers and increased memberships by 20%.”

Steven’s face flushed at the praise. Dr. Y/L/N had loved his revamped tour and had approved it as the new standard as soon as Steven could train the rest of the Programming staff.

“It's all been thanks to Dr. Y/L/N’s incredible leadership,” he replied. “I'm just grateful that she's given me the opportunity to show her what I can do.”

He cleared his throat. “In fact, I actually have important museum business to discuss with her now, so unfortunately I need to steal her away. Quite urgent, you see, can't wait till tomorrow.”

“Apologies, Cohen,” Dr. Y/L/N said. “I'll see you at the next board meeting.”

Steven began to lead Dr. Y/L/N away. “I was thinking about what you said regarding our next special exhibition and I've come up with something that I really think you'll --”

He dropped the act as soon as they were out of earshot. “Everything okay? You looked like you were in need of a bit of a rescue.”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded with a smile. “I was, actually. I knew that events like this require a lot of schmoozing benefactors and listening to them talk about their art and car collections, which totally isn't my scene but unfortunately came with the job description, but I swear if I had to listen to Cohen blather on about his prized Vermeer painting for one more minute I was going to go insane. You're a lifesaver, Steven, thank you.”

Steven huffed out a laugh. “Happy to help, ma'am.”

“Are you enjoying the gala so far?”

Steven nodded. I am now. “Yes, ma'am.”

He had been surprised to see the invitation to the gala in his email inbox a few weeks before and in questioning Christina, he had learned that while the galas were open to all staff (which he never knew since Donna had never bothered to let the gift shop staff know) the Curation and Programming department heads in particular were encouraged to attend in order to show solidarity and support for the museum -- and to be on hand to answer any questions about the exhibits. It's not actually required, she had said, but we get overtime for it so it's worth it.

Dr. Y/L/N smiled. “Good. I'm glad.”

Steven gestured towards the table that was acting as a makeshift bar. “May I get you something to drink?”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “Yes, a glass of champagne would be lovely.”

“Be right back.”

Steven walked over to the bar and requested a glass of champagne and a bottle of water, then headed back over to Dr. Y/L/N once he had received them.

He handed her the glass of champagne. “Here you are, ma'am.”

“Thanks so much, Steven.” Dr. Y/L/N grinned. “The one upside to these parties… getting paid to dress up and drink fancy champagne.”

Steven took the opportunity to admire her once again. “You look lovely tonight, by the way. Very reminiscent of an Egyptian goddess.”

“Thank you.” Dr. Y/L/N briefly glanced down at her outfit. “That's actually kind of the look I was going for.”

She paused. “You look really nice as well.”

“Thank you.” Steven had "borrowed" a tux that Marc had stashed in the back of their closet after a mission. It had been a bit wrinkled when Steven had pulled it out but luckily there were no bloodstains, so after a bit of dry cleaning it was as good as new.

Dr. Y/L/N took a sip of her champagne. “Oh, I meant to tell you, that teacher from the school group you gave a tour to on Wednesday emailed me this afternoon and absolutely raved about you, said it was the most engaged she's ever seen some of her students and that they were still talking about it yesterday in class.”

Steven grinned. “Oh, they were a fun group, asked some good questions.”

“She also wanted to know if she went ahead and booked another tour for next term if she could request you as her class's tour guide.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah, that's not a problem. I'll make a note when she sends in her tour reservation to schedule myself for it.”

“Okay, I'll email her back on Monday and let her know.”

“Okay, great.”

“You know, that was actually the fourth message we've gotten about how great your tours in particular are just in the past two weeks alone. I need to watch out -- another museum might get wind of how amazing you are and try to steal you away.”

Steven grinned and shook his head. “No chance of that, ma'am. I plan on staying right where I'm at.”

Dr. Y//N nodded with a smile. “Good to know.”

“--Ah, Dr. Y/L/N, there you are!”

Dr. Y/L/N turned as Helen walked up. “Good evening, Helen.”

“‘Evening, ma’am. ‘Evening, Steven.”

“Good evening,” Steven replied. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for your welcome speech, Dr. Y/L/N.” 

“Oh, it is? I'm sorry, I had no idea of the time.” Dr. Y/L/N turned back to Steven. “Would you mind holding my champagne for me, please? I'll be right back.”

Steven nodded and took her glass. “Absolutely, ma'am.”

He watched Dr. Y/L/N head over to a makeshift stage and clear her throat as the music that had been playing softly over the museum's intercom system faded into silence. “Hello, everyone,” she said. “For those of you that don't know me, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and I’m the director here at the British Museum. On behalf of myself and the entire museum staff, I'd like to welcome you to this evening's members’ gala.

“For years the museum has been the cornerstone of enlightenment and knowledge and it is only with your continued support that we are able to present such a large and wonderfully diverse collection of artifacts for exhibition. It's an honor and a privilege to be part of the growth and development of the museum and its collection, and from the bottom of my heart I thank you all for being here. Enjoy your evening.”

Steven politely applauded along with the rest of the crowd, then watched as Dr. Y/L/N made her way off the stage back towards him.

He handed her her glass of champagne. “That was a lovely speech.”

Dr. Y/L/N smiled. “Thank you.”

“It really is fascinating, though, innit? I mean, the history of the museum.”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “Oh yeah, very. And to think it started with someone's private collection.”

Steven took a sip of water. "So you never did say what brought you to England, if it was strictly for work or..." He trailed off.

Nice segue into finding out if she's single, Marc said in his head.

"Well, the short answer is strictly work," Dr. Y/LN replied. "But the long answer is that I got a dual Master's degree in history and linguistics before getting my doctorate in Archeology and had originally planned on being a real-life Indiana Jones, but then the university museum offered me a position as their director and I almost had to take it. I enjoyed it immensely but I’d always wanted to come to England, and a couple of months ago a museum job board I’m part of had posted that there was an opening for the director of the British Museum, so I figured why not at least apply? Honestly never thought I'd actually get it, although I'm really glad I did."

Steven gave her a small smile. “I am too.”

Dr. Y/L/N shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve been blathering on about myself for too long. Tell me about you.”

“Oh, er, well…” Steven licked his lips nervously. “There’s not much else to know besides what you’ve read on my CV, really.”

“Nothing? You don’t have any family? Friends? Things you do for fun?”

“Well, there was my mum, but she’s…” Steven trailed off. “She’s gone now.”

 Dr. Y/L/N gasped softly. “Oh. Oh, Steven, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. It was a while ago.” Steven shrugged. “I’ve got a goldfish, at least. Gus. Gus the goldfish.”

“Gus the goldfish…” Dr. Y/L/N nodded with a smile. “I like that.”

Steven took another sip of water. “I don’t suppose you have any pets.”

“No, I considered getting a pet of some sort, but my hours at the university museum were always so long that I would’ve felt bad leaving whatever sort of pet I chose to get home alone for hours on end.”

Steven nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure which iteration of Gus he was on thanks to Marc. “That’s understandable.”

“Maybe one day. We’ll see. So, what do you do when you’re not working?”

“Actually, I’m studying hieroglyphics at the moment.”

“Oh wow, that’s so cool!”

Steven grinned at Dr. Y/L/N's enthusiasm. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to see if I can translate whatever’s on Akhenaten’s coffin so I can add it to the information on the display placard, although it’s probably just something like ‘here lies Akhenaten, who died from eating spoiled lentils’.”

“Want to go find out?”

Steven blinked at Dr. Y/L/N in surprise. “What, really? Right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I don't think anyone will even notice we're gone.” Dr. Y/L/N gave him a cheeky grin. “Come on, I promise I won't tell the boss.”

Steven chuckled, then nodded. “Okay then. Let's go.”

They quietly made their way upstairs to the 3rd floor and into the Ancient Egyptian hall.

Steven crouched down next to Akhenaten’s sarcophagus so he could read the inscription that had been etched onto the side. “Alright, let's have a look.”

“Well?” Dr. Y/L/N asked. “Does it say he died from eating some bad lentils?”

Steven chuckled. “Actually, no. It says ‘Here lies Akhenaten, beloved of the Aten, great of kingship in Akhetaten, who has elevated the name of the Aten, the perfect one of the manifestations of Re, who is beneficial to the Aten.”

Dr. Y/L/N crouched down next to him. “So he was a sun worshiper.”

Steven nodded. “Specifically the sun disk, Aten. He tried to force monotheism and make Aten the only worshiped god, which backfired spectacularly. He wasn't very well-liked and is sometimes referred to as the ‘heretic pharaoh’.”

Dr. Y/L/N winced. “Ouch. No wonder his sarcophagus isn't as nice as some others.”

“It appears that it wasn't even made for him originally -- it was made for a woman and was either second-hand or retrofitted to him.”

Dr. Y/L/N turned towards him. “So what happened after his death?”

“Polytheism was slowly reintroduced, and he was largely forgotten about until the discovery of his tomb in 1893.”

Dr. Y/L/N shook her head. “Geez. Imagine going from being an all-powerful pharaoh to getting stuffed into a second-hand coffin upon your death and left to the annals of history.”

Steven nodded as he stood. “Yeah.”

Dr. Y/L/N went to stand as well, but wobbled as she straightened.

Steven instinctively grabbed her hand to keep her from falling. “Woah there. Are you alright?”

Dr. Y/L/N looked down at their joined hands then back up to Steven’s eyes, an unreadable expression on her face.

She blinked a few times then nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Thank you.”

Steven was filled with relief. The last thing he needed was to have Dr. Y/L/N be hurt, especially while they had snuck off to go look at an exhibit. People would talk. “Oh, good.” 

He let go of her hand and took a step back. “We should um, we should probably get back downstairs, yeah?”

Dr. Y/L/N cleared her throat. “Right, yes. Yes, of course.”

They headed out of the Ancient Egyptian exhibit and back down to the gala on the first floor.

Dr. Y/L/N paused at the foot of the stairs. “I um, I probably should go speak to some of the benefactors since the gala is almost over, but just so you know, I really enjoyed our conversation tonight.”

Steven smiled. “I did too. Enjoy the rest of your evening, ma’am.”

“You too, Steven.”

Steven watched as Dr. Y/L/N walked away. If he got to spend every gala like he did this one… he definitely wouldn't mind having to attend.

[hunterswithcell-phones]

Put your emptiness to melody, your awful heart to song

@pieceofshitregulus Here's my second work for this fest!

1

For a library that opened in the middle ages, it could use an organizational system. Regulus spent upwards of 20 minutes searching the shelves for a copy of a stupid book on the history of the Sacred 28. Ironic, he knows. He should be exempt from this assignment and all resembling it, considering his bloodline. At the very least, he shouldn’t be required to read the book his dimwitted professor decided would be best for the assignment.

Regulus read the book as a child, and knows for a fact there are dozens that express the histories of the Blacks with far more accuracy, but it doesn’t surprise him in the slightest that the Hogwarts teachers read one singular book on the topic and decided it to be the best out there. Especially since most of them seem to be half-breeds who wouldn’t know the difference between a Black and a Potter.

His eyes land on the title, partway down a shelf near the bottom. Just sitting there, in plain few. His eyes can’t have brushed over it dozens of times, right?

It doesn’t matter. Now that he’s found it, he has to read it. Maybe it would be better he hadn’t found it at all.

As Regulus pivots towards the aisle’s exit, whispers of his name catch his attention. Whispers from some 2nd year girls.

“But, like, Regulus has never dated anyone. We both know that’s not normal.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has.”

“But why wouldn’t he tell anyone? Surely the lucky girl would want to tell everyone?”

“Have you seen Regulus Black? It’s certainly a lucky boy.”

The first girl sounds scandalized as the frivolous conversation continues.

As she should be. Not that the statement is inaccurate. But these nobodies have no place to be speaking this way about the heir to the Blacks.

Someone needs to keep these second years in check. They go through life thinking they can get away with anything, and no one does anything to ensure they know otherwise. Revolting, truly.

If no one else will, Regulus supposes he should take it into his own hands. Before some blood purist hears similer words and it ends far worse for them. They should be grateful.

Regulus walks down the end of the aisle to see who these girls are.

Watching their foolishly light-hearted humor turn to fear is the best thing he’s seen this week.

“Is there a reason you two thought it would be appropriate to gossip about the heir to one of, if not the, most powerful family within the Sacred 28?”

One of them foolishly attempts to stay composed while the other flushes and stuttering haphazard apologies.

Regulus glares harder. “I have no interest in fake apologies. Though if I hear something like this out of either of your mouths again, you certainly wont be getting out of it so easily.

Their eyes widen as Regulus turns and briskly walks to the check out counter with the stupid book.

2.

Regulus needs to escape this crowd of students who seem to have decided to crowd these walkways. Every single one of them is loud and obnoxious and an obstruction to his view of Barty.

They’re meeting in one of the most generic coffee places in Hogsmeade, though Regulus has never been. He thought it seemed pointless to make plans to go there, but Barty wanted to for some demented reason.

He should have voiced his thoughts then, but no. And he, Regulus Arcturus Black, cannot ask some random third year for help with directions. He supposes he will just keep up the appearance he knows exactly where he is going.

Regulus strolls through the crowd, glancing. casually at all the storefronts.

Until footfalls he would recognize anywhere appear behind him. Sirius’. The right footfall landing far harder than the left makes him so obvious. That boy has always walked with a limp for no real reason. Though the reason is likely just to bother Mother in a way she can’t quite punish. Not that she doesn’t try.

Regulus is in no mood to bother conversing with his brother. Sirius left two years ago and hasn’t spoken to him since. He has no right to decide to be brothers now.

Regulus continues his casual stroll, ignoring the steps falling close behind him.

Until Sirius has the gall go call out to me. “Regulus? I want to talk.”

Regulus attempts to ignore him and act as though the call was for some other Regulus.

But people are staring. He must turn around and look Sirius in the eyes. “I have absolutely no interest in talking to you. And if I did, I would have turned around 5 minutes ago. So. Leave. Me. Alone.”

Sirius’ face drops, and what looks to be a tear falls from his eyes.

Good. He understands just a sliver of Regulus’ pain when Sirius left to betray their family.

And, another plus. As he stalks off, the sign he’s been searching for appears.

If only it could have appeared a few minutes ago.

3.

This is the biggest game of the season so far. Though it isn’t anywhere near the end of the season. Just the first Slytherin and Griffindor game. People always go wild for these for some reason.

As though Ravenclaw doesn’t consistently have far better strategy and players than Griffindor. But people have no taste, so games between the actual two best teams receive next to no fanfare. Pathetic.

Regulus changes in his usual corner, obstructed by some random crap someone must have left, which isn’t uncommon, as Hogwarts has taken to storing random crap in our change room over the past few months. Love that.

Muttering comes from the boys in the corner. The more Regulus discerns of them, the more he considers himself grateful for the stack of crap in the corner.

“With Black going soft, it’ll take a bit of work to win this one.”

“He isn’t what he used to be. Wonder who turned him soft.”

“Probably dating the Rosier girl. They’re always together.”

“Yeah, well, Sirius was always better than him. There’s just no real comparison now. Nothing worthwhile, anyway.”

With heavy footfalls, Regulus steps out and into their field of vision, watching as the fear fills their eyes.

He hasn’t lost his spark, has he?

Meeting the eyes of Lucas, the idiot in the middle, Regulus snarls his next words. “So? You three going to take that back? Or am I going to ‘accidentally’ knock some of you off your brooms later?”

After 3 seconds of silence, Regulus turns on his heels and chuckles at their loud apologies.

4.

After hours of homework in the library, a random student Regulus assumes is in one of his classes walks up to him. What for, he cannot fathom.

Everyone seems to avoid him except for the occasional group assignment, when arguments break out over who gets the privilege of being my partner. Consistently. Though teachers usually ask me how much work my partner actually did. The parts I spent less time on are always the parts my partner ‘did’. Funny how that works out.

“Uh, Regulus, I’m in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I was, uh, wondering if you know how to do the questions from today? They were confusing and I figured you would probably understand.”

Regulus laughs. “Why in hell would I help the competition? Go find someone else to do charity work.”

He looks offended as he shuffles off. Regulus would laugh, but with no one near, he would just seem crazy.

*** page break ***

+1

Hogsmeade with Pandora is always an adventure. Contrary to popular belief, she isn’t strange, though she does enjoy most of the shops that most would skip past without second thought. Which benefits the both of them, because Regulus would prefer to avoid the crowds.

Regulus glances over at her, and sees a list in her hand. Bizarre. “Is there anywhere specific we need to go?”

“Not sure where, but I need some quills.”

“We might have to make a visit to one of the boring stores.”

They would both rather just not get the quill, but she does need to pass her classes more than they need to avoid human interaction. They make the meandering walk back to the main streets to find the store.

Regulus leaves Pandora by the quills to wander around, even though he’s not actually looking for anything. She’s known for taking a while to choose quills, so it’s better to entertain myself while she looks.

In the bathroom, 2 guys come in and seem not to see Regulus.

“You see the Rosier chick over there, staring at quills?”

“Oh yeah, was she talking to them, too? How does she have friends?”

Laughter breaks out. “Black seems to like her. She must give him a discount on the weed. Couldn’t be any other reason for them to be friends.”

As someone seems to be close to suggesting something Regulus would rather never hear about Pandora, he steps out.

2 pairs of eyes, following Regulus, fear obvious.

“Anything else the 2 of you would like to add before a few dents are added to your faces?”

The idiots stutter out some of the most insincere apologies Regulus ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Comical, really. Though he supposes that’s what a threat of a messed up face does to people like them. They can’t spare a hint of their potential attraction due to the kinds of mistakes they make regularly.

But begging for mercy doesn’t work for Regulus.

*** page break *** (continuation of +1)

Was he just mean to someone for someone else?

No, that cannot be possible. He wasn’t doing it for Pandora. He did it for himself. He couldn’t bear to hear something like that about her.

Somewhere deep inside, he knows he did it for her. But he cannot confront that today.

Word will spread quick. People will probably think they’re together, which sounds like hell, truly.

But, for her, it’s worth it. Neither of them give too much thought to what others think. Hell, she deals drugs she’s never once done for the cash.

As Regulus slips back into the store, he walks up close to her side and squeezes her hand. Seemingly inconsequential, though it’s more physical affection than he’s ever displayed in public. She seems confused, but lets him do it all the same.

People watch them. And he finds he doesn’t care for the questioning glances of others.