#i love short niche playlists

[skelavender]

I'd actually love to see the playlist of songs about eating boys... If youre fine with sharing it obviously

SO GLAD YOURE INTERESTED!! here’s songs about eating boys, it’s not very long but it is very niche. lmk if you have any recommendations of other songs you know about eating boys!!

you might also be interested in my playlist oh, to murder a man and then write a country song about it

[st4rbe0m]

PAIRING ▸ Choi Yeonjun x reader

SUMMARY ▸ On a hazy summer evening, where the air hung low above everyone like a buzzing, heated static, you met Choi Yeonjun in a new light. And he met you, not for the first time maybe, but definitely in a more impacting way. A second, first meeting. And with that second, first meeting came the idea to strike a deal - a mutual agreement to help both parties out favorably, till the end of summer. Luckily, or unluckily, it just so happens that the summer doesn't last forever.

GENRE ▸ strangers to lovers, highschool au, fake dating au, suggestive scenes, includes kissing, jock Yeonjun, kinda nerdy (?) reader (they're friends with Soobin and Beomgyu if that helps), fluff with angst, includes underage drinking and swearing.

PLAYLIST ▸ High School in Jakarta by NIKI, I Like Me Better by Lauv, Bubble Gum by NewJeans, Ghosting by TXT, Ditto by NewJeans, small town by Clara Benin.

WC ▸ 12.9K words

A/N ▸ She's finally here 😭🥹 I'm quite proud of this one guys. It's loosely based off my own high school relationship (which unfortunately, didn't end as great as this fic did). It's also my first time writing such a long story, and I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, and please do let me know how you guys felt about it. Love you!!

PART OF THE ANTHOLOGY SERIES

The world as you know it is ending. There’s meteors and asteroids crashing down, balls of fire and smoke rapidly descending on your world. The world you’d built since middle school. 

Not the world as we know it, of course. No, the world with its 8 billion population and sprawling cities and countries wasn’t coming to an end - but it was your world, with its own islands and own niches coming down to debris rapidly. 

Your world meant the things you did - it meant how you stayed up all night on school nights to play Minecraft with Soobin and Beomgyu, your two closest friends since childhood. It means the music you listened to. Usually that included whatever preppy tune that used to overtake the charts. The One Direction boys’ perfect harmonies were all the rage of 2014. Justin Bieber had the hearts of young girls by the fist. But that was middle school. That was 2014, which ended a few months ago. 2015 was the incoming year of the new batch of freshmen in their town’s high school. 2015, and there’s new artists and new bands and new games. It’s 2015 and the world you crafted with wide-eyed dreams and glitter pens is over, and the swooping lurch of reality hits you square in the chest just as the summer heat settles over everyone. 

The First Summer - summer before freshman year 

“Soobin, can you pay attention maybe? Fucking hell.” Beomgyu’s loud usually. Beomgyu’s louder when irritated however. And today he decided to be loud, irritated and angry, and the unnecessary screaming match between Soobin and Beomgyu was just the strike of the match of patience you had needed. “Enough!” Seriously, if you’re gonna fight this much, just beat each other up! I’d rather have you both in battle than this silly screaming match.” Your voice is shrill and the annoyance is heavy. Yet, it does nothing to affect the pair. Instead, all they did was give short laughs. “You can’t shout at us like that you '', the pouty eyes and whining tone of Beomgyu softened you up immediately, and you grinned back with a retaliation ready. “Beomgyu, let Soobin text his sweetheart next door, or else he’ll wilt like a plant deprived of sunlight.” The statement leaves the both of you in a fit of giggles the moment the entire sentence left your lips, and left Soobin to be the pouting one this time. “What do you both even know? To be in love with someone?”, the dramatics were oozing off Soobin, the sore subject of his very strong feeling for his next door neighbor making him more susceptible to teasing from you and Beomgyu. “And what do you know? You haven’t confessed either!”, accusatory, as you told him. It would be wonderful, absolutely delightful for Soobin to pull up his big boy pants and finally ask the other girl out. Not only because they’d make a delightful couple, but also because maybe he’d shut up about the qualms of unrequited (which honestly was quite requited if he just stopped being so blind) love. 

“How’s the existential crisis popping along, you? Are we still the lamest duo you could hang out with that will kill your nonexistent street cred?”. Chucking a throw pillow at the boy, you sighed, the dramatics being your concern now. “You guys don’t get it, do you? This is highschool. The real deal. The next four years of people’s cherished memories.” “You want to peak in highschool badly, don’t you?” “Shut up Soobin!”

They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t get how highschool mattered to you. How being 15, then 17, then 18 happens only once in life. You’re young in love as a teenager once, and you’re living life on the cusp only one. Romanticizing highschool was a silly cliche, and you were by no means a daydreaming romantic (Eh, maybe sometimes). But living, to experience, to feel, to love, meant something to you. It meant something to the little girl who watched those romcoms in the darkness of her room on a blue light screen. Watching how wonderful guys fell in love with wonderful girls. Watching how the boy loved the girl regardless of status quo. High School was a lake and you were a small pebble ready to skim its surface with accuracy and precision. 

“Are you Machiavelli or something? Stop making that scheming face, seriously. It’s giving me the creeps I’ll be honest. This just resulted in another pillow to the face.

The summer heat, a slow wave of buzzing energy that rolled over the entire town, made most of its residents lethargic. But lethargy wasn’t an option for 15 year olds, especially 15 year olds in the Y/L/N household. Several nags and a good scolding from your mother had you working at the convenience store two blocks down. A job that you were certain of, might just be the first of its kind in the way it could kill the employee of boredom. “At least you get the AC. And us!”. Huening Kai was an absolutely wonderful person. Honestly, there was no way to say anything negative according to you, which made Taehyun roll his eyes often. The two boys would frequent the store often. The first day because Kai was craving an ice pop to battle the heat. But once the pair had seen you prettily working the register all by your lonesome, and the boys not having anything interesting to while away their time with, began to visit you on your shifts, eating the almost expired stock and chitchatting. 

Even from the corny sentence Kai had just said, you could only bring herself to frown, but not get annoyed at the sunshine boy. The summer reinvention was in full swing. Calling it a reinvention made you uncomfortable sometimes. It was just a few tweaks right? It’s not like you were going to lose yourself completely.  A harmless fine-tuning of the machinery, shinier gears and fancier covering.

Convenient store afternoons were idyll - no customers, and usually no Kai and Taehyun, who’d take the most deep afternoon naps they could take. Today, however, they’d decided to forego the naps, and they hung around the back, to analyze which candy was the best for the summer. 

You're sitting at the till, bright light shining right through the spotless plexiglass, hair gently swooping over your face, illuminating the strands. There’s a slight breeze from the droning AC that cools whatever sweat was beading your forehead. A lazy afternoon, light and airy, with the low hanging summer making the world around simmer like a boiling pot. It was this afternoon, that the bell tinkled as the convenience store’s door opened, the sound jingling faintly over the sound of buzzing cicadas and grasshoppers. It was this afternoon, uneventful like the rest, until it wasn’t - that you looked up to meet the eyes of Choi Yeonjun. 

“Any ice cream?”, the older boy asked, eyes shining like two pebbles under a clear lake on a summer’s day. Breaking out of your stupor, you just nodded, a bit frantic considering how you were caught in such an awkward way. Brushing whatever hair that had surrounded your face, you got up with a slight metallic screech of the chair you sat at, stumbling to where the freezer was. Opening up the box, you gestured to an assortment of cold treats that were laid out for the customers. Humming to himself, Yeonjun just scanned the ice creams, then shifted his eyes to you. You, who was already staring at his sharp side profile, the way the sunlight seemed to poke out from the sharp bridge of his nose to the way his lips seemed more plump than they were with the way he was chewing at them. Making eye contact with him, he simply asked with a slight smirk, “What do you suggest?”. “Huh?”, you asked dumbly, not catching his question with the way you were busy ogling the older boy. “Which flavor do you like?”, “Oh! Personally, I’d say you can never go wrong with chocolate. The chocolate chip choco cones are wonderful for this season. But if you need something to beat the heat, a lime popsicle would be the best.” “You seem to have a PhD in ice cream.”, the boy teased, as he eyed the way your cheeks grew warmer and your pupils widening slightly at his jest. “Oh sorry if that was too much! Um yeah, I guess th-that’s my suggestion.”, hurriedly avoiding his eyes and going back to gesturing at ice creams. A pale veiny hand reached into the ice box to pick out two ice creams - a choco chip cone and a lime-berry popsicle. Slightly waving the two at you with a smile, he proceeded to strut up to the counter, head turned back at you as he said with a voice that made your heart constrict and release butterflies, “ Why not both then? Can’t go wrong with recommendations from the master, can I?”. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was quite obvious now. You were absolutely enamored by Choi Yeonjun. Hurrying up to the counter and reciting his bill, he paid the money and a bit extra with a wink, for the “pretty cashier at the register who has a thesis on sweet treats.”. And just as easily he’d appeared, with a flirtatious smile and charm to knock any girl off her feet, Yeonjun was gone from the store, with ice cream and quite possibly your senses and bearings. “TweedleDee and TweedleDum, you can come out now. I can see the tops of your head. I can also feel your annoying presence”, you groaned as a sheepish Hueningkai and Taehyun appeared, both clamoring about how they didn't “mean to eavesdrop” and how “they were leaving the back store room when they say the interaction between you and Yeonjun take place.” But honestly, that wasn’t your biggest concern right now. The two kids were harmless, anyways. What concerned you was how the image of those dazzling eyes wouldn’t leave your head. How smooth his voice was when he spoke to you. For someone ready to break out of the daydream land you found yourself in, Choi Yeonjun was insistent to keep you under. And for him, maybe going breathless was worth it. 

The Second Summer - summer before junior year

It’s 2018 and it’s the end of your life. Well, to be fair, your life has been “ending” since freshman year, and your two friends have been watching you become the one who cried wolf every single time. “You don’t get it Soob,” with the cellphone perched on your shoulder, “I don’t know how you and Beomgyu aren’t freaking the hell out right now.” Soobin lets out a disinterested hum, deciding to conference Beomgyu in, because why would he be the sole victim to this torture? Sitting down on the bed with a force and a breath of indignation leaving your lips, you just continue your rant. “Soobin and Beomgyu. This is the year it gets real. College prep. Entrance exams. Volunteering and extracurriculars. Don’t you get it? At least Rin gets it. Rin’s with me-” “And that must suck for you, Soobin” a teasing Beomgyu interrupted, while Soobin stayed wordless, probably sulking behind the phone, too pouty to retaliate. This sudden remembrance made you laugh, and joining in on the fun, you said, “Yeah Soobs, how have you still not gotten the balls to ask her out?”, but you regretted the words that came out of your mouth, immediately anticipating what was coming and what's next. And just as you predicted, Soobin launched off on his monologue, “Crushing on Yeonjun isn’t a problem then huh? What about that? You’ve spent a year and half pining for the most wanted guy in the school, Y/N? Isn’t that funny?”, all the words spilling out in a single breath of a sentence. “Alright Soobin, I’ll lay off your case if you lay off mine. Besides, it’s easier to target Beomgyu, no?”. And with that the bickering went off again, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A lot has changed since that summer in freshman year, with the chance encounter with Yeonjun. For one, you stopped working there the moment summer ended, which disheartened you slightly considering you would see less of Huening Kai and Kang Taehyun, the two boys you’d grown quite fond of in this short span of time. But the missing soon expired the moment the duo entered highschool themselves in your sophomore year, growing slightly closer to your friend group despite the year’s gap in age. They were the new addition along with Rin, Soobin’s neighbor and longtime crush, to your lunch table. A moment in time where SAT scores and classes, crushes and heartbreaks ceased to exist, and it was just your friends and you, suspended in an emulsion of feelings of friendship, and youth. 

Another thing that had changed since that summer was you yourself. Though your reinvention didn’t go the way you had planned - you still had matured. The crybaby 14 year old had grown into someone who knew how to stand up for themselves. The same person who’d spend nights crying because of mismatched schedules was moving up the academic ladder. 

And reappearing on that same lunch table on the first day of sophomore year, and then sticking it out till the end of the academic swing, with a whole new set of expectations crammed into binders and assignments, and the promise of new memories to make, was your friend group and you - a couple of kids ready to take on the world. Hand in hand, laughter shared and fondness obvious, it was going to be a good summer. You could feel it, in the jokes Beomgyu shared and the shrieking laugh Kai let out without fail. Grinning along to their antics, your eyes scanned the lunchroom.

One thing hadn’t changed with the seasons, and that was your fascination with the school’s IT boy, Choi Yeonjun. A wonderful enigma - athletic, kind and good looks all combining to create the most perfect gentleman you in your years of living had had the chance of meeting. He sat at the table diagonal to yours, and with a piercing heart did you remember that with all the changes, Yeonjun changed too - in the sense that he’d gotten a girlfriend. A girlfriend whom he adored, which was obvious to anyone with two eyes. 16 nearing 17years old and a heartthrob with a heart of gold himself, it was written clear as day in the leaflets of destiny, that Choi Yeonjun would be someone who would make a mile-wide crater of an impact on people’s lives. And as your eyes moved away from where Yeonjun sat with an arm slung around his girlfriend, the disappointment was quite evident in them, that you found yourself locking eyes with Rin, who held a look of pity. Shaking your head and offering a smile that said, “No worries”, you shifted your attention back to your friends. 

Choi Yeonjun may be at a school lunch table less than a foot away from you. But anyone who had lived through the apocalyptic land of highschool could tell that in reality, he was miles away. 

And this summer, he would be light years away - no longer a friendly customer at a convenience store where you no longer worked, but rather a fading memory of a golden summer’s afternoon, where you could for the first time, feel sparks lighting up inside your eyeballs when they looked into his. The first time your heart would do somersaults to be in his presence. The first crush. Your first crush, the golden boy. 

Being in the middle of the food chain of status quo meant having its own advantages and disadvantages. And a certain disadvantage was that sure, you were moderately more liked then the people above you, and you weren’t picked on nor where you shunned into isolation. But it meant that a very mediocre position came with a mediocre life. Your friend group wasn’t the type to be firstly favored to be invited to parties and blowouts with the older kids like some of your peers were. And frankly, your friends weren’t the type to be dying for those coveted invitations either. They were the ones who’d rather watch the Scream movies in order despite the fact that the entire group, minus Taehyun, were deathly afraid of horror movies. And honestly, you were all content with that - to make bad predictions to the endings and have Taehyun poke fun at the way you all fell for the jumpscares every single time.

But to reach to maybe even the periphery of Yeonjun’s area meant having to put yourself out there, just a little bit. And the time was no better than now, when Miyawaki Sakura, the foreign exchange junior you had the opportunity to help out when she first arrived in the beginning of the year, invited you to a blowout on the last day of the school party being held at her place. The lovely Japanese girl, who’d been meek and as quiet as a mouse had blossomed just like the flower her name signified, and grown out of her shell to be one of the rather popular girls in not only her year, but the entire school. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, but also possessed the kindest of hearts - evident in the way that even after her rise to popularity, she hadn't forgotten the helpful sophomore who had shown her the ropes around school. 

Scoring the invite wasn’t an issue but rather convincing your homebody, introverted friends to tag along was - Taeyhyun and Kai were already on their ways to their respective family homes, so it was between Rin, Soobin and Beomgyu and if luck would have it, all three. 

“Guys please. We always have some other time to do these things - Rin I promise you, I’ll sit and finish the lego set with you myself. Soobin, Gyu - be so serious right now. You’re missing the hottest party of the year to watch freaking anime? Guys please!”. The whining and pleading and pouting along with shining up big puppy-dog eyes at all of them was all you had in your arsenal. “Y/N.” A single, serious utter of your name has you shooting another helpless look Soobin, putting quite possibly all your charm into this one. “We’ll go. Shut the hell up now.”

Jumping up from where you were sat on the floor of his bedroom, you shot off to where he and Beomgyu were on the couch, browsing through streaming services for new animes, to engulf him a bone-crushing hug that had him releasing his own expletives and swears, begging to be released, but chuckling along, nonetheless. Pulling Rin along with you, with a complaint from Soobin and Beomgyu about where the two of you were going off without them, giving a loud laugh, you just called out - “It’s a party, we have to dress up!”

Rin was humming along to whatever pop music had begun auto-playing as the playlist you both had put together for the process had exhausted itself, and it was something neither of you paid mind to, too busy concentrating on fixing eyeliner wings and choosing the right accessories to match your outfits. It wasn’t that you and Rin weren’t friends - no it was great having a girl in the group to help you handle Beomgyu and Soobin’s antics. But it was rather that Rin was the closest to Soobin, which had made conversation stall a bit. Yet the silence was friendly and not awkward at all. A few more beats and a song later, Rin off-handedly mentioned something that had you freezing in your spot. “Now that Yeonjun’s single, it won’t hurt to make your move Y/N.” “Yeonjun single, since when?” you asked perplexed. “But they were sitting together at that table just last week?”. “That’s the thing, Y/N. Right on that very day, Yunha and Yeonjun unexpectedly broke up. There’s no news on why, or how. But many speculate from what they saw that Yeonjun was the one who cut it right off, the one who initiated it.”

Your mind was spinning. A perfect guy and a not-so-perfect girl. What could’ve gone wrong with them? What made them fall apart like that? And so much so - it wasn’t that you were one of those people who would see him as an object on the market again. No, he was fresh off a relationship he recently broke off - and it surely would leave a stain on any person’s life. So many questions and so many feelings, and the nagging reminder of your own crush on Yeonjun felt like an anchor inside you, pulling at your heartstrings in a way that made them creak the most bittersweet tune. A boy you’d loved from afar, was now slightly closer in the binoculars you viewed him with. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still distances away. 

“I don’t think so Rin”, came your thought-out reply. “Freshly broken up with? I don’t stand a chance. Not to mention that it’s not only me, but half the school that likes him”. Looking up to where Rin sat snickering, you pointedly asked her, “What?”. Halting her laughter, she just said with a warm twinkle in her eye, half turned towards you, pulling a hair brush through her locks. “The school may have a crush on Yeonjun, but you, Y/N, are head over heels.”

And this was something that weighed heavily on your mind all the way to the party, crammed in Soobin’s mini SUV which he borrowed from his parents for the night after incessant begging and pleading. Rin had a point, you thought, when you glanced at her from where she sat up front next to Soobin, the two lost in their own lovesick bubble. You really were head over heels of Yeonjun, and it had you tripping on your feet and falling more often than not. Pulling up the street crammed with several other cars, the bass reverberating through a specific house on the cul-de-sac lined curb made it obvious what the destination was. Finally managing to tightly squeeze the car into a spot far down, the four of you made your way down to the house, now emitting different sorts of LED lights and boosting party hits, with a hand wrapped around Beomgyu’s, both of you stuck in your own conversation that was continuing from the car. 

Standing at the door were two heavy-set boys, part of the school football team - Seo Changbin and Lee Chan, both coincidentally being Yeonjun’s closest friends. The fourth of their little musketeer squad was Jung Wooyoung, the wild spirit of a boy, filled with spunk and charisma, was probably inside the house, tearing up whatever makeshift dance floor the party provided. Nodding slightly in recognition at you, no doubt already informed about your invite by Sakura, Changbin just shot you a charming grin, accented with the obvious amounts of copious liquor he’d already downed before your arrival, and said, “You know Y/N, I’m not going to lie, I always thought you were too pipsqueak to come to one of these”. He’d given a look to Chan to man the doors himself for a while, and an unspoken second agreement between the both you couldn’t quite decipher. “Well, I couldn’t turn down Sakura at all”, you laughed sheepishly, flanked by Soobin’s lanky frame who was clutching on to Rin, and Beomgyu next to Changbin, all of you crossing the threshold to the zone of booze, loud music and people ready to share some skin. Changbin seemed insistent to talk to you, for some reason, as he continued, “Whatever magic Kkura played on you, I’m glad it worked, because you’re here.”, he beamed with a confident sort of happiness. “O-oh, me too.”, blinking at the sudden confession. “I’m glad I’m here too. This is Yeonjun’s house, is it?”, you cringed slightly at yourself. Of course it was, everyone knew this was his party. Barking a short laugh, he said, “Yeah, of course. Resident party boy couldn’t help himself on the first day of summer.” You had no idea where Changbin was leading you to, but judging from the way you guys were walking towards an ajar patio door, you figured he wanted you in the backyard to hear you better over the music, where the number of partygoers were much less. Why he wanted to hear you at all, was still a mystery. 

With all the questions and slightly flirty lines being thrown at you from Changbin, you’d managed to completely ignore how you’d lost your friends in the crowd, how Soobin’s comforting presence was not near you, or how you couldn’t hear Beomgyu’s raucous laughter anymore. Finally breathing in the fresh gale of air as you guys stepped on to the wooden flooring of his back porch, it seemed Changbin’s agenda was made clearer - the way he cupped the curve of your cheek, staring deeply into your eyes. And it made you brake in your steps, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Y/N. You’re cute. I’m cute. Cuter, maybe”, he giggled with a wink, as the thought that he might be quite tipsy had already washed over you. “Let’s get out of here?”, he said, beckoning towards the back gate of the house. And you, were absolutely fucking frozen. Here was an attractive boy asking you out, and all your stupid mind could think of was how badly you wished this was Yeonjun, and not his friend. And maybe you wished too hard, because from right behind the waiting figure of Changbin seemed to materialize Choi Yeonjun, black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, smiling lightly as he met your eyes. The sharpness of his nose and the way his eyes seemed to crinkle around its corners. God damnit. Even in the worst of your moments, you seemed to be absolutely haunted by this six feet tall soccer player. 

“Hey, convenience store. Is this guy bothering you?”. Your mouth was open, but it seemed that no words would be coming out anytime soon. Glaring at his friend for icing his game, which just hardened when Yeonjun put an arm around his friend’s plentiful bicep, he just ushered Changbin away from you, still smiling at you as he explained, “He’s quite drunk right now. I’m glad you didn’t answer him anything, I’m surprised this dumbass can even stand on his own two feet, with the way he was pre-gaming before. Again, my bad, uh- what’s your name again? Can’t keep calling you convenience store now, can I?”

Here was Choi Yeonjun, talking to you about more than just ice cream flavors and homework. Here was Choi Yeonjun, helping you from making a dumb move with a drunk guy. Here was Choi Yeonjun, awaiting your response while you continued standing there mum. 

“U-uh yeah! It’s Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. I worked at the convenience store, yes. But I stopped working there now!”

There was some odd spirit cursing you, for sure. If there was a god of embarrassment, he seemed to have taken a liking to you. 

It seemed that Changbin, who was now reeling from the alcohol in his system, hunched over, ready to hurl, which seemed to distract Yeonjun from your nervous rambling. Hauling his friend over to the side of the patio, he entered with a Changbin hanging limply on his side. Looking back to where you still stood, he just smiled and asked, “You planning to help me out here?”

The floor of the bathroom where Changbin was sitting, curved into the toilet bowl, spilling his guts out was cold. Cold enough to make you and Yeonjun move to the baby blue ceramic tile bathtub, knees pulled into your chest while Yeonjun’s long ones were draped over the rim of the tub. Honestly, your jitters are much less now. The nerves had already made you almost forget what a disaster the first meeting with Yeonjun was, and it seemed he paid no mind to it either. “So Y/N, how do you know Kkura?”. And thus began a short and simple conversation with Choi Yeonjun in a baby blue bathtub, while his friend hurled in the toilet next to you both. 

“I don’t know how to do it.” The conversation was streaming steadily like a river, and the topic started digging deeper. Yeonjun asked about highschool, and how it was going for you - your plans for the summer and then junior year, the same way you asked him and how he felt about his last year in school. “What do you mean?”. “I wish I had a guidebook, you know? To tell me what sorts of things I should do, how to be someone in highschool who makes memories. Who lives. I’ve been trying ever since that last summer of middle school, and I’m still coming up short.” This just made Yeonjun let out a few giggles in amusement, which had you snapping your neck, shocked how he found your problems so funny. Shoving him lightly with your shoulder, you laughed too. “It’s not funny! I’m serious. Everyone except me knows what to do!” “Including me?” asked Yeonjun, head tilted towards you slightly in curiosity now. “Well..” and the look he gave you spurred you on. “You’re the Choi Yeonjun. You’re popular, smart, funny and talented.” “I know”, a lazy grin that had you clenching your fist in response to the butterflies. “So you get it right? You know the ropes.” This had Yeonjun’s smile faltering a bit, as his gaze dropped down to the floor. “If I knew Y/N, I’d know why I’m never enough for my girlfriend.” But as sudden as that confession was, he seemed to return to his original state. And you didn’t like that one bit. Sliding up a bit closer to him, you offered a token of friendship. “Wanna tell me about it? Sounds like you need a listener, and that’s something I’m good at.”

“Well, for starters, the rumor going around that I dumped her is false. It was the other way around. I would say it’s not that the relationship was running smoothly, but I guess I was holding on to that bit of whatever we had, floating a piece of driftwood. Splintering me, but I was holding on. She let go, I guess.”

You’re not sure what it is about you that has him baring open his soul so vulnerable only to you, but you’re glad. Because you saw the boy as more than just a shimmering silhouette in the distance now. He was much more up close, and much more beautiful.

On a hazy summer evening, where the air hung low above everyone like a buzzing, heated static, you met Choi Yeonjun in a new light. And he met you, not for the first time maybe, but definitely in a more impacting way. A second, first meeting.

The Second Summer - June

The days after the party at Yeonjun’s - where after you both had let each other read each other’s stories like open books on display, he’d walked you home due to “his extremely generous and chivalrous nature” (his words, not yours.), you’d been caught yourself far too many times revisiting that night in your head, replaying the smiles and the laughs, the banters and the jokes. You had something else too. Something that your friends were unaware of. Sure, you’d told them about your escapade with Yeonjun and why you were so absent at the party, which had led to hours of teasing from both Soobin and Beomgyu, with Soobin, roping Rin on to the antics kept making smooching noises at you, and Beomgyu, in the most Beomgyu-esque fashion ever would loudly and immaturely sing “Y/N and Yeonjun sitting on a tree” on the top of his lungs. But something you had yet to reveal to them, mainly because your patience would give out if you had to hear more taunts from them. But in your phone, locked away in your contacts, Yeonjun’s number.

“Lemme get your number, tubs”, he’d said with cheek as he called you that nickname he’d decided on the spot and a tongue poking out cutely from his lip, as he thrust his phone into your hands, still strolling along with one hand in the pocket of his black baggy jeans and the other brushing your own, sending sparks shooting right down your knuckles. Typing the digits in, he smoothly pulled your own phone out of your purse that he was carrying upon his insistence, and entered his own number, no doubt saving it under some sort of stupid name. “Why am I Tubs?”, you asked curiously. “Because I just had the best conversation of my life in a tub with you, tubs. Can’t let someone like you fade away now, can I?”. The street was lined with harsh white lamps, and little moths fluttering around the buzzing lamp made shadows dance around on the pavement. “So would you actually use a highschool guide if you got one?”, “Yeah, why not? A Popularity 101 or Escape High School for Dummies might be nice.” Humming, he seemed to be contemplating something, that you had to nudge him out of with an inquisitive look. “Nothing, nothing”, he said, shaking his head reassuringly. “Just something I thought of. Something that might help the both of us out.” “What do you mean?”, you asked him. “I’ll tell you about it. I’ll text you.” And just as elusively he’d entered your life, he left you on the front of your doorstep, with a promising smile and an electricity that wouldn’t leave your palms. 

The nickname had left a blush warming your cheeks that you hoped he hadn’t noticed. And when his contact lit up your phone screen, it was the same blush making its appearance on your face again. 

[Yawnzzn] 11:32 AM: meet me at the convenience store, tubs. kinda wanna talk to you ab smth

While the text’s ominous nature did leave you a bit nervous, the excitement of seeing him again, as a friend, as someone he wanted to hang out with by his own volition, overshadowed it. You knew it had to do something to do with what he’d referenced that fateful night. And skipping down the avenue, past the winding streets of the suburbs lined with trees and their apple green leaves, you made it to the convenience store on the corner, where Yeonjun stood staring into the ground, head bent, wearing a new pair of washed up baggy denims, a white form fitting shirt and a red-and-black cap turned backwards on his shaggy mop of black head, that seemed to highlight the brown undertone in the sun. Spotting your appearance from the sound of footsteps, he smiled and beckoned you into the store where you followed him, settling down on the outdoor seating arrangement shaded by the roof of the store. The sweat was starting to bead on the back of your neck which you tried your best to ignore. Focusing on the boy in front of you, meeting his twinkling gaze just set off an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. 

“Alright, before I say what I have to say, promise me you won’t be weirded out, okay? And I swear it only sounds as complicated.” He seemed nervous, and slightly uncomfortable about what exactly he was asking, which just made your fingers twitch slightly in anticipation. Anxiously biting your lip, you just nodded for him to continue, mustering up the best reassuring slight smile you could manage. “What if I taught you how to master highschool? And in return, could you pretend to be my fake girlfriend?”.

You blinked at him once. Then again. Honestly, you were awaiting that burst of ebullient laughter from him, where he’d then say how he was joking. Why would I date you Tubs? I’m not mad, he’d say. But none of that came. Instead there was still a patient Yeonjun eagerly awaiting your response. Sputtering in confusion and disbelief, you just asked him, “What? Why? Why do you need a fake girlfriend? Why do you want me to be the fake girlfriend?”. Giggling at your discombobulated state, he just waved his hand in the air in a gesture to relax. “Look. I’ve thought long and hard about this. You need a High School for Dummies, and I want to, well, show Yunha that I can be the boyfriend she needs me to be, you know? When she sees what a good boyfriend I can be with you, she might want me back!”. His radiant smile of excitement was throwing shadows over the cracks in your heart. Of course, he wanted her. Perfect, wonderful, Yunha. This would be severely, severely bad for your heart.

“I’ll do it.”

Recounting this debacle was shaping up to be exactly the kind of drama you were expecting from Soobin,Beomgyu and Rin. “You’re not serious. She’s not serious guys.” Rin was still in the denial stage of the process your friends were going through - with Soobin on anger and Beomgyu on grief, clutching your plushie on your bed and looking at you with sorrowful eyes as if you’d kidnapped his dog in front of him or something. Soobin’s mouth seemed to fly at miles a minute, berating you for how badly this would obviously end.

“Maybe this will help me, Soobin! To finally get over him! Clearly staying away just made me yearn more.” This just had Soobin turning more red. 

The both of you had drawn up unspoken rules about this of course - that the agreement would continue until the goal was met. Hopefully, it will happen by the end of this summer itself, Yeonjun had added. There was, of course, an agreement of mutual platonic feelings from both parties. Strike one in the deal.

You didn’t like doing things that your friends disapproved of, who despite their silliness and playfulness, were still your best friends. But God, did holding hands with Yeonjun as he led you through the colorful lights, bustling stalls and zooming rides of the carnival feel good. His hand was encasing yours and tugging your fingers, which had your own heartstrings cinching with each pulling movement. There was a wide smile on your face as he sped towards the stall selling animal headbands, insisting that you both needed matching ones. 

“You know, Yeonjun. If you’re secretly a furry or something, you can tell me. It’s okay, I won’t judge. I mean I will, but you know”, you said in faux sympathy while patting his shoulder jokingly, which had him adorably pouting at you. “Shut up, don’t you want to know what makes me so cool? These headbands do. Chicks and dudes alike dig my childlike whimsy.” He said proudly, which just had you raising an eyebrow at you. Stubbornly placing the matching fox ears on you, he pulled his cellphone out while explaining - “Okay, so step one. Kiss my cheek in this photo so that I can upload it to my story.” Kissing Yeonjun (albeit on the cheek) was like tasting heaven to you. Surely your heart would give out, if you even got closer to him. Kiss on the cheek?

“Come on, quickly! I wanna get a corndog after this”, he said signaling at the dimple on his cheek. Breaking out of your stupor, you hesitantly pushed your lips on to the soft flesh of his cheek, as he titled his more towards you, making your lips plant firmly against his dimple. Your mind was raging as the brightness around you, and his body warmth made your head spin. The sound of the shutter of a camera from his phone seemed to push you off your rollercoaster thoughts,moving quickly away. “Nicely done, Tubs.” he praised, examining the picture and wasting no time to post it. The sudden ding on your phone made you check the device, seeing the same picture being sent to you. “Set it as your wallpaper. Gotta make the gimmick more believable.”, he added nonchalantly. Nodding, you did as he told, until he said in an afterthought, “Plus, I look sexy as hell in that picture.” Scoffing at his confidence, you jokingly said, “And what makes you think I wanna stare at your face every time I open my phone?” “No rebuttals on the sexy part I see”, he winked at you. 

If your chances at surviving this date with an intact heart weren’t already horribly low, Choi Yeonjun was hell-bent on leaving you an absolute goner by the end of the date. 

The second date commenced equally as smoothly, with you taking the initiative this time by taking him to a pottery studio which doubled as a cafe - painting each other small trinkets to keep to remember the good friendship you were both fostering. And as you both opened up more to each other, you found yourself regretting what you’d said to Soobin. Because if anything, being close to Yeonjun just had you spiraling more into this lovestruck rabbit-hole. And you had to dig yourself out, fast.

One of those moments where clarity hit you about digging out, you’d decided to meet up with a fellow classmate of yours - Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin was a family friend of yours and you both had been quite close in your childhood years. Your mothers were best friends, who honestly wanted their kids to end up together. But they also didn’t want to force any unwanted romance on you both as children, which is why they’d left the matter alone all together. If it happened, it happened. If it didn’t, it didn’t. 

Your mothers shared such a deep friendship that they even had their own anniversary - the day they first became friends. And along the years, it turned into quite a wholesome celebration for them, celebrating their friendship together. And this anniversary was coming up soon, which is why when Hyunjin had texted you, asking if you wanted to help in throwing a little surprise party for the both of them, you’d eagerly jumped at the opportunity, ready to do anything to distract you from the boy you were so hopeless for. 

Pushing the grocery cart around as Hyunjin mindlessly added to things that might be required for the party, you both idly chatted, catching up with each other’s lives. Hyunjin was a quite good looking guy, and had all the girls in your class breaking their necks to get a good look at his prince-like beauty. Maybe you would’ve been one of those girls currently, if a different guy didn’t have your head up in the clouds. 

“And what’s up with you and Yeonjun? Don’t play with me and tell me, ‘cuz I saw that story of his? Does the shy Y/L/N finally have a man? The most fine, coveted man in school, even?”, he said, his cute dumpling smile and nudging making you blush slightly. “Well, we’ve been hanging out and stuff, I guess? He’s a good guy.”, you said bashfully. Hyunjin opened his mouth to say something but froze midair. Looking forward to seeing what had halted Hyunjin, you made eye contact with Yeonjun’s warm caramel brown ones. 

“Hi Y/N”, he said with a slight edge to his voice, eyeing you and Hyunjin suspiciously as he did. With a clipped voice, he also threw in a “Hey Hwang”, out of whatever courtesy he could find within the unexplainable pit in his stomach and the slight anger clouding his vision as he kept staring at how Hyunjin had an arm loosely wrapped around your shoulder while he was teasing you. He didn’t like that hand. At all. And he needed it off of you, immediately. 

“Hyune, take the items up to the cashier, please? I’ll be with you in a moment”, you requested, gulping as he left your side understandingly, leaving only you and Yeonjun standing in the fresh produce aisle. “Tubs, looks like you don’t need my help getting cool at all, if Hwang is the kind of guy you hang out with.”, he said light-heartedly, even though he felt nothing of the sort currently. Seeing you with another guy had put him off so much, so suddenly that it had him reeling. But, of course anyone wouldn’t be mad if their fake girlfriend was with someone else, right? Even if the word ‘fake’ gave him a bitter taste in his throat?

“Hyunjin is my family friend! His mom and my mom are best friends, you see. And we’re throwing them a little party, you see.”, you explained, suddenly feeling shy in his gaze, intense and burning right into you. His eyes seemed to soften at this, and he nodded. Feeling this odd urge to add more, you hastily spit out, “Do you want to come?”. The invitation was out of the blue and frankly had you feeling stupid. Who the hell would want to come to this? “You bet. I’ll be there in my finest suit and everything”, he added jokingly. “What time?” “Huh?” “What time is it starting?” “You actually want to come?”. “‘Course I do. Gotta impress my in-laws, right?”, he said cheekily. 

“You’re burning up, Y/N-ie!” Hyunjin later said, as he felt your skin as he had gone to poke your cheek. “Was it something in the store?”. Seeing how frozen you were, he slyly put two and two together and asked, “Or was it someone?” 

There were some streamers put up in the living room, and some balloons blown up by both your dads, who’d also become great pals because of their wives. You and Hyunjin were setting up the table, when the doorbell rang. “That can’t be them already?” you asked perplexed. “No, their spa appointment only ends at 6PM, I checked thoroughly”, said Hyunjin’s dad. Moving towards the door, confused about who it could be, you opened the door to find Yeonjun, casually dressed and clutching two small bouquets. “I’m not early, am I?”

When your moms arrived, your mother was pleasantly surprised to find you chatting happily with a boy who was not Hyunjin or any of your friends. Noticing the knowing twinkle in her eyes as you introduced her to Yeonjun, you silently promised her an explanation as you both moved around the room to where Hyunjin was, as your dad beckoned the parents over to the living room while letting the youngsters socialize on their own. With the three of you moving towards the backyard while cracking jokes, you could feel the one-sided tension between the both melting away, which made you glad. Settling down on the lawn chairs on the yard, the three of you streamed through various topics to talk about, with Yeonjun and Hyunjin bonding over their mutual interest in dancing. “I didn’t know you danced.” you’d voiced a bit quietly to him as Hyunjin went to his house just next door to get some beers for the three of you. You hadn’t drank before, so you were planning to sit this one out and let Yeonjun and Hyunjin get tipsy. “Yeah, it’s just been something I’ve always wanted to do. And my teacher before sophomore year reckoned I’d be good too.” “Why’d you stop?”, you asked him. “It was interfering with soccer practice. And soccer gets me into college - dance doesn’t.”. He seemed a bit shut off about the topic, and sensing how this was a sore spot for him, you didn’t press for much. “Well, there’s a life outside college. A life where you could do both - and maybe more dancing like you want.” you offered him in reassurance, which seemed to spark an interest in his eyes. Looking gratefully at you, this look on his face seemed different this time, like there was something deeper simmering beneath the cool guy smack he’d always give you. Your hand which was quite close to his own, hanging limply across the handles of the chair, suddenly was encased in warmth, with his own palm giving yours a grateful squeeze. “Thank you, Y/N. I’d like to show you one day, perhaps.”

And indeed, there was something cooking underneath that aloofness of his, because for the first time, he wished that he could show you his dance skills as his girlfriend, and not just a platonic agreement of the season. 

“Beer wench has arrived!” exclaimed Hyunjin, as he set down three bottles of Beer Lite on the wooden table in front of you. “Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I’m ready to get cracking. Now Yeonjunnie, did you know that when Y/N was 11 she-""Shut up Hyunjin! You swore you wouldn’t talk about that!”. 

Hyunjin and his parents had departed as the evening neared its close, and the sky was black with dark maroon clouds spread out shielding the glimmering stars. Yeonjun had insisted on helping clean up for the party, claiming it was the least he could do as a guest. He was helping your dad clean up stray paper plates and napkins, until you showed him the way up to your room to get a garbage bag to dispose of the waste. His lanky body was right before you as you both bounded up the stairs, and opening up the door, a sudden realization hit you - Yeonjun was going to see your room. Your kind of messy, lame, postered up room. He was already two strides in when you were frozen up, terrified for the teasing onslaught that was bound to begin anytime soon. “No way, you listen to HONEY too? I freaking love that band.”

This was odd. No teasing. No making fun of your weird posters or your figurines and stuffed toys. Only a very heavy compliment on your music taste. Whistling long as he eyed the rest of your room, he seemed to giggle at the obscene number of plushies on your bed, which you took offense to. “It’s our year of the lord 2018 and you’re gonna make fun of plushies on the bed? Really, Yeonjun?”, you told him off with feigned disappointment as he laughed at this, chuckling while shaking his head. “Not making fun, just admiring.” His speech was only slightly slurred, indicating that he was only barely on the cusp of tipsy and sober. Moving towards your closet to bring out a garbage bag, he ambled up to stand right behind you, his arm resting against the wooden frame of the wardrobe as you ruffled around till you found what you were looking for. “Alright! Let’s go then”, spinning around only to bump your nose slightly against his hard chest. This caught you off guard, breath catching in your throat as you stabilized yourself by lightly holding on to his forearm. “Yeonjun?” you asked unsurely as your eyes hesitantly looked up to his pupils blown wide as he stared at you in an entirely different way. Like you were the only person he wanted to look at for the rest of his life. His lips were tantalizingly plump and pink, like easy to grab, low hanging fruit, the smell of cranberries and beer wafting on to your face gently in the most tempting way possible. Inhaling sharply, you saw how his vision flitted between features of your face, as if he was memorizing every curve, every mole and every lash. Eyes blown wide as saucers, you could only stand in bated breath, expecting nothing and everything at the same time. His lips were scanning your lips, and you swore your legs would give out right then and there, from the way he licked his own lips while eyeing yours. 

A call from downstairs seemed to separate you two like similar poles of a magnet, coughing slightly and silently going downstairs, garbage bag in your hand. There was a soft smile on both of your faces as you handed him the bag, going to join your mom in washing the dishes. Your currently flustered state was all the explanation your mom needed about who Yeonjun was to you in your life.

You and Yeonjun ambled by the door just killing time, neither of you wanting to say goodbye. But he knew it was time to go. Standing on your front porch, he offered the last sucker-punch of feelings to your gut as he said, “You know what, Tubs? I still don’t think you need my help. I think you’re the coolest person I know.”

The night when you laid in your bed, an hour after bidding him goodbye, you found yourself staring at the HONEY poster and smiling like a lovesick fool. This summer, you swore, was going to be beautiful.

The Second Summer - July

If you smile at your phone any longer, you’re afraid the shape would be etched on to your face forever, and everyone would know you as the lovestruck idiot who can’t stop smiling. At Least that’s what Soobin says, and obviously he’s never wrong. But even you had to admit, the rate at which you and Yeonjun had spent every waking moment together, including digitally over text messages, was just abysmal. Something seemed to have shifted in him ever since that encounter in your room, and it seemed like he’s exploded with affection. Almost everyone in your school knew that the both of you were in a relationship. A fake one, a snide voice in your head reminded you. That’s what this was for, anyways. A way for him to show Yunha how perfect he was. He wanted to be perfect for Yunha, and you were just practice. But the dark thoughts seemed to evaporate from your mind as another text message from Yeonjun lit up your phone, the wallpaper - the photo of the carnival - just making you more giddy. He’d invited you to your new date/hangout (you weren’t sure which word to settle on during this convoluted situation), a movie night at his place, after you’d relentlessly teased him for not knowing some of the most famous rom-coms. He’d apparently already watched Princess Diaries, which was a shock to you at first, until you found out it was only because his friend Chan had insisted that it was pure cinema, which it was. So tonight, you’d decided to make him watch the second installment of the series, a superior romance with just the right amounts of tension and tropes. He was picking up snacks from the supermarket while he was messaging you, asking you your preferences, the thoughtfulness melting your heart. Your leg was bouncing up and down in excitement as you laid on your bed, ready as ever for the night. 

At 7PM sharp, you had made your way to his house, rapping sharply at the door. He’d confirmed previously that the house was going to be empty save for his younger sister, since his parents had already jetted off for an anniversary couples vacation, leaving their two children in charge of the house. Fully expecting Yeonjun to open the door, you were surprised to find a smaller girl standing at the door with unblinking owlish eyes. From the similar fox-like features to the jet black hair, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that this was Yeonjun’s younger sister, Yena. She seemed to smile, metal braces glinting under the yellow porch light as she welcomed you in. His sister, who was due to start freshman year herself this fall in the same school as you both, seemed to spend no time in starting to talk to you, treating you like a friend she’d known for a long time. “You’re her, right?”, she seemed to ask mid-ramble, “You're Y/N. God that idiot can’t ever shut up about you! Of course, I see why considering how gorgeous you are, but please, some of us are sick of hearing about how much you like spending time with her!”, her voice growing louder and angled towards the staircase you both stood at the bottom of, clearly as a dig towards Yeonjun. His loud footsteps ran down the flight of the stairs, hair damp as if he’s just hopped out of the shower and bangs flopping against his forehead, clad in gray sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt. “Yena, don’t you have idols to ogle at on your iPad like a middle schooler?”, he asked with a huff of annoyance towards his sister, who just promptly stuck her tongue out at him, and walked away, not without giving you a teasing wink before she did. Clearly, this targeted teasing seemed to run in the Choi family genes. 

“We’ll watch the movie in my room, so that the little parasite doesn’t bother us”, he explained as he grabbed your hand to pull you up, almost like it was natural to him. A faint “I heard that!”from Yena in the living room made you chuckle wholeheartedly, loving their sibling dynamic. The sound of your laugh seemed to liven up Yeonjun even more, who could feel the warmth in your hand in his igniting a spark in his heart. So much for pre-made plans of how things go. It is the first time, he thought to himself, that someone’s made me feel this way. And I like it.

Settling down on his queen sized bed, the navy blue duvet and bed covers complimented with gray pillows surprised you, because to be honest, you were expecting some sort of Pokemon bed covers. Which earned you a frustrated and angry sound from Yeonjun, who in his annoyance often behaved exactly like a toddler. Endearing. 

Pressing on the button on the remote, he settled down comfortably right beside you, elbows touching yours as a bowl of popcorn mix was precariously balanced on both of your thighs, his body heat making you feel like a furnace. 

It got worse as the movie continued. Every minuscule move he made, every tiny shift or brush of him against you had you writhing in your head, having to restrain yourself from just imagining. Imagining what it would be like if you were both a regular couple having a regular date night, with your head on his chest, just above his beating heart. He would run his fingers through your hair that would probably soothe the next ten years worth of worries in your life. He could cup your chin and just dip down, giving you a taste of what it was like to be kissed by the magnificent boy. But that beating heart you fantasized of listening to, was currently beating for Kim Yunha. 

You’d never had your first kiss. You frankly saw no big deal of it, and you didn’t want to share a meaningless kiss with some boy who’s name you’d probably forget in twenty years during those eighth grade spin the bottle games at birthday parties. You didn’t know what your first kiss would feel like. If it would be the sparks and fireworks, the bubbles of champagne kind, or the comfortable one, like the breeze that enters through your window at night. Like home. The kiss you currently craved, you guessed, would taste as sweet as candy.

“Hey, hey she did the foot pop when she kissed him! That’s what she wanted in her first movie right!” Yeonjun exclaimed, deeply interested in the movie while you dealt with the dilemma in your mind. He added on, “Oh man, a foot pop kiss would be fun. Different to the kisses I’ve had. Have you had any of those, Tubs?”. His questions seemed to fly over your head, until he asked again, inquisitive eyes looking at you, the dialogue a dimmed background in how close he was. Gulping, you didn’t really feel shame or embarrassment as you told Yeonjun about your lack of experience (read:none) in that department. It was Yeonjun, of course. You couldn’t find anyone else to admit this kind of information to. 

Yeonjun doesn’t know why he’s said it; it flew out of his mouth faster than he could register. But all he did know is that he did want to kiss you. To give you your first kiss. A foot-popping, rom-com, magical kiss. You deserved it. He wanted it. 

“Wanna kiss me?”

His voice has a low timbre to it when he asks this.

There’s an ocean ringing in your ears in the midst of your raging emotions - confusion, shock, and above all, glee. To be kissed by Choi Yeonjun, was like plucking a star from the sky and handing it to you. 

Your neck moves almost mechanically in a single nod. And then his lips are on yours. 

There’s colors yet darkness behind your eyelids that flutter close. Your lips are moving softly and shyly against his, which are gentle yet firm. Like he wants this as bad as you. Like tasting you wasn’t a chore, but a reward. 

You think Yeonjun tastes like popcorn and excitement. He thinks you taste exactly like summer.

The Second Summer - August

The windows in the car are slightly fogging up, and beating heat outside isn’t quite helping. The heavy and quick breaths, the faintest moans of pleasure, from the bitten lips to the few scattered hickeys on your neck, as his lips, as unrelenting as ever, kept devouring your mouth would make anyone feel shy enough to look away. His eyes are slightly dimmed and he looks up through his eyelashes at you from where he’s nibbling on your collarbone, which sends a searing flame down your spine and making you whine a sound barely audible to anyone who wasn’t in the kind of proximity to you that Yeonjun was in. The whine just got more loud as you complained when he pulled away from his ministrations as the sound of his phone dinging from messages from the rest of the Three Stooges which was his friend group - all of them asking how long exactly would he take to go on a simple beer run for the party they’re holding tonight at Wooyoung’s place. Shushing your complaints with a sweet peck on your swollen lips, he said, “Sorry Tubs, but these guys won’t leave me alone unless I get their alcohol. ‘Swear they’re like impatient babies about this stuff.” Starting the car as you got out, he held your wrist just as you were about to close the door, tugging as he asked, “I’ll see you at the party, right?”, eyes gleaming with hope. Smiling, you reassured him with a simple yes, and walked over to the short distance to your house, where the rest of your friends had already gathered, waiting in your bedroom. Already bracing yourself, you opened the door to find Beomgyu funnily gasping and shouting about the marks and your messed up hair, with Rin high fiving you and Soobin, while pretending to be a mad dad at you, just hugged you with a smile that had broken through. “You know Y/N-ie, not even Olympic athletes are this dedicated to reaching the goal like you did. I’m proud of you kid.” “What’s up with all this ‘kid’ stuff, old man?” you asked him laughing as you plopped down on the beanbag next to Rin who was sorting through your wardrobe trying to find the perfect outfit for you to wear to the party, which would be your first public, public appearance with Yeonjun.

If you weren’t going to lie, you were quite nervous. Yunha was supposed to be at this party too. And Yeonjun and you hadn’t talked about the ‘deal’ you both had made, the one which would end with him being with Yunha again, at all since that kiss in his room. The rest of the days since then had since been blurred into kiss-filled memories highlighted with more dates and more memories with him. With not a single mention of what happened before, or what would happen later. If this was the only way you could have Yeonjun, in an unspoken way, the self-destructive, addicted part of you was okay with that. But all good things did come to an end. You had spoken to Beomgyu about your predicament, who had been nothing but a patient and attentive listener to you, despite the boy’s regular nature. He offered you some advice - the kind that you knew was so realistic that only Beomgyu could offer it. 

“Confront him about it at the party tonight. Perhaps being this publicly out with you might make him remember your contract too. Then you guys could come to a conclusion, hopefully a good one.”

You’re fidgeting with your fingers on the way to the party, non-verbal and staring out the window in Soobin’s car as the three of them sensed you needed your space, left you alone. Tonight was an important night. 

Jung Wooyoung’s house was no joke. A sprawling mansion with five private jacuzzis, countless bedrooms and more space than required, the party teeming across the entire property seemed to be in full swing when you all arrived. A text alert on your phone from Yeonjun made you look away from the sheer grandness of the house,

[Yawnzzn] 10:26 PM: come meet me at the jacuzzi marked number 3. it’s the one behind the fountain 🙂

Fountain? Jacuzzi? God, was Wooyoung rich. The number of amenities had your head spinning, and it was almost like deja vu, the way you found yourself separated from your friends again at a party. Fortunately enough, this time you’d told them about the message and about meeting Yeonjun. Beomgyu had given an extra reassuring look when you left, silently cheering you on for what you were planning to do tonight. Pushing past sweaty bodies and handsy couples, drunk teenagers and passed out bodies on the floor, you tried to find your way to the location that Yeonjun had messaged. The enormity of the house didn’t make it easy, and honestly you were getting quite dizzy from all the overstimulation around you. But you had to find him first. 

Finally spotting a cluster of palm leaves and an artificial water fountain, made of polished rocks and lighting from below making the water look ethereal, you ambled your way there, pushing past the leaves to get behind the fountain to where Yeonjun said the jacuzzi was. Making it past the rocks, you saw the jacuzzi, where your boy sat with his feet in the glowing blue water, the shadows of the water rippling across his face. There was your beautiful boy, sitting right next to Kim Yunha. 

You didn’t know what to say. Or do. He was looking at her the way you swore he looked at you, with all that hope and all that endearment in his face. Then his face fell, with a tinge of visible anger clustering in his furrowed eyebrows, when you heard the words in her voice, “So what, you gonna extend your contract with your pathetic little fake-girl? Or are you just man up and come back to me?” There seemed to be some sort of satisfaction in the smirk Kim Yunha wore, amplifying when she looked right at you, gleaming with some sort of vengeance. As soon as she did, Yeonjun did too, with a look of utter bewilderment and helplessness. Sort of like how you felt. 

It was like piercing a knife right through you, hot and searing which led to the same kind of tears running right down your face. The look you wore had something inexplicably sharp poking Yeonjun deeply in the chest. He was trying to get around the wet floor, trying to reach you, screaming something. 

But you didn’t hear anything. It was like there was that ocean in your ears again, raging violently this time. Your breath was quickening like falling sand. You didn’t know what to think right now. The summer was supposed to end, and this was the end of your summer, and fuck, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? And left you with nothing. You didn’t know what to do, so you did the only thing you could do, and you ran. 

The Second Summer - Yeonjun’s Summer

If you had asked Yeonjun how his summer was going, he would just say one thing. “This summer, I fell in love.”

74 missed calls have accumulated in your phone over the past three days, where you’ve laid just rotting in your bed. Your eyes are probably still puffy from the way that when you think the tears have ended, they begin again. Rin spent the night over the first night, after hearing your broken recount of the events that had happened to the best of your abilities, amongst the gut-wrenching sobs that wouldn’t stop and the horrible ache in your heart that just wouldn’t stop. The second night, it was Beomgyu, accompanied by Taehyun and Kai, who had come back from visiting their family and been filled in by the rest of the gang on the current happenings. Beomgyu seemed quite angry at himself, after all he was the one who had suggested that you seek out Yeonjun at the party. But when you limply just grabbed his hand while tears streamed down your face noiselessly, the three boys just gathered around you in a circle, encasing you and trying their best to shield you from pain; even though the pain was deep inside you, like a hurtful wrench determined to dig right into you. 

Soobin was here on the third night, declining all the calls from the boy who broke your heart, who seemed to be relentless in his attempts. He had gotten what he had wanted, didn’t he? He got his precious girlfriend back, and was he stupid enough to expect the both of you would continue to be friends? “I don’t get why he called me there if she was going to be there as well”. Your voice is as frail as a dying leaf in winter, thin like paper and watery that had Soobin himself tearing up for his friend. 

You did have quite a lot of unanswered questions that would remain a mystery to you, you guessed. Did everything really mean nothing to you? Was I the only one calling it everything? Do you miss me? I miss you. I miss you a lot even though I shouldn’t. I miss you all the time. I hate you. I miss you. 

Another buzzing call on your phone had you break out of your headspace. “Soob”, you began in a watery voice, “I’m gonna go shower. Maybe get rid of this stench and sadness on me. You go home and get some rest, okay?””But-” “Trust me.” He understood that this was something you needed, and giving you one last hug, he walked out, leaving you alone in the room where you first felt Yeonjun. 

He’s been driving around aimlessly for the past three days. Ever since that night, he’s been sleeping in his car, which had gathered protests from the rest of his friends. But he couldn’t stomach going into his room, where he’d kissed you for the first time. He was haunted now, by the most beautiful ghost. A ghost whom he’d hurt. 

He has been cursing out Kim Yunha in his mind continuously, but not as much as he’d been cursing himself. When she’d overheard the conversation he was having with Changbin, Wooyoung and Chan about how he was ready to cut the contract-deal bullshit between you both, to finally put an end to the Yunha business, and finally ask you to be his as much as he already was yours, he should’ve taken some action. He shouldn’t have fallen for her innocent act, where she pretended to be actually interested in hearing about you. He should’ve cut her off immediately, and then run to you and kissed you long and hard.

But he didn’t. He didn’t and now you were hurt because of him and he couldn’t find you at all. There seemed to be no activity about you. You hadn’t blocked him, but you didn’t pick up his calls. His texts were still going through, but left on delivered. He was lost, and you were the only one who could compass him back to shore. 

He doesn’t know when to pin-point to the moment being the moment when he realized that he’d fallen hard and fast for you. Every date with you made him crave your presence more. Funny jokes seem funnier when he hears your laugh. Movies were more entertaining only when you were sitting next to him, pressed up to him so that he could smell your shampoo and hold your hand, the pads of his fingers tracing every crease on your palm. Or maybe it was when you became the first person to take an interest in the real him - the Yeonjun who liked dancing and animal ears and popcorn and ice creams from the convenience store. Maybe he was a goner the moment he sat in that bathtub at the party with you. Losing an anchor like you meant he was back to being adrift at sea.

It’s the 4th day of being on no-contact with Yeonjun. Since that fateful day where your heart had been shattered to pieces. You’re back at the convenience store you’d worked that summer, on some sort of heritage tour of the moments you had before you were crushed. You walked on over to the ice cream box, chuckling sadly when you noticed the exact ice cream you’d recommended him still being there. You weren’t sure how or when you’d stop remembering him in the small things. But in some deep, deep part of you, you wanted to remember him. You wanted to remember how high you felt around him. 

“Y/N.”

It's like the temperature in the store drops significantly when he says your name. You’re refusing to turn around, shoulder seized up and taut. He’s here, he’s here, why the fuck is he here?

“Y/N, please.” He doesn’t want to get too close to you just yet. He wants to give you the space you need. But fuck, if he just didn’t feel the largest wave of relief in his chest when he spotted you entering the convenience store. 

“Y/N, Tubs. Please. Just hear me out. Please? I promise you it’s not what it looked like.”

He sounds so utterly desperate and broken that it makes your heart ache enough to make you turn around, making you gasp at his disheveled appearance.

There’s dark eye bags under his eyes which have lost any spark they held before. Despite the brightness of the sun outside, he seemed to look almost gray in color. Like life was sucked right out of him. His concerning appearance had you shuffling hesitantly towards him, which he was ever-so welcoming to. Opening his mouth, his voice was hoarse, as began explaining everything. 

You’re both seated outside that store again, where that godforsaken deal began. He seems much lighter now, and much better. His hand is inches from yours, and hesitating to close the gap. The moment is so tender, so precious, that even one wrong move has him fearing that you’d leave, and he’d be broken again. “Is the deal over then?”, you ask him, which has his eyes widening. “Fuck the deal, baby. I’m so sorry that it even was a thing. I like you, Y/N Y/L/N. I might even just be in love with you, and I’m mad enough about you to admit it. You’re like breathing to me, Y/N.”

He’s here again, and he’s so, so beautiful again. This time, it’s you closing the gap between your hands, his palm bringing back fond memories to your mind. “Well, Yeonjun, I hope the deal is over. I’d like to declare it over, because I would prefer it a lot more if you became my real boyfriend, instead of my fake one.”

It’s the summer before junior year and you’re only sixteen, but you swear that this is love. You may not know much, but you’re sure. Reaching here might’ve been hell, like fighting modern Sparta. But you wouldn’t have ended it any differently, with you and him and a summer in a convenience store, eating ice pops and sharing frozen kisses. 

Bonus: The first fall

You’re standing in front of your locker. The first day of school jitters were significantly lesser compared to your previous years. Picking up the singular post-it that had seemed to have found itself in your locker, you turned it around to find Yeonjun’s scrawling handwriting saying only one thing. I love you. And just as you grinned from the message, the boy in question wrapped his arms around your torso, planting a sweet kiss on the right side of your neck, and then deeply inhaling your scent, which made you laugh happily. “Cool people write post-its by the way. That should also be a tip you should consider for your highschool journey.” “Of course, my cool boyfriend. I’ll definitely keep in mind that post-its are for cool people.” If Yeonjun was a star, you were his star charter. You’d still have to get through the battleground of high school. But doing it with Yeonjun just made the whole journey much sweeter, didn’t it?

“Just for the record, I still don’t like him.” ”Shut up Soobin!”.

[1004tyun-archive]

❥ late bloomer

✿ pairing: non-idol!taehyun x noona!reader

✿ summary: your high school and college years were nothing short of uneventful. no first dates, no first kiss, no first boyfriend, nothing. but when you and taehyun hit it off at an art exhibit and start a relationship, you know you want him to be your first for everything. but does taehyun know he's your first?

✿ genres: established relationship, smut, slight angst

✿ warnings: slight age gap (reader is 25, taehyun is 21), virgin reader, soft dom taehyun, body worship, mirror sex, voyeurism

✿ word count: 5.8k words

✿ a/n: hi friends! i've been noticing an increase in the taehyun noona lover agenda, so i thought why not toss my hat in and give y'all a noona reader fic of my own? i hope you enjoy <3

very special thank you to @cherrypeaking for being my sounding board while writing this fic! screenshots were shared, tears were shed, memories were made 🥹

You zoom down the streets of Seoul with purpose, the wind blowing through your hair as you blast Carly Rae Jepsen’s entire discography in your car, not caring if anyone’s bothered by the way the bass shakes your car. Today’s a special day, after all.

You and Taehyun’s halfiversary, to be specific. It was like pulling teeth trying to get him to play along with the gimmick of celebrating the first six months of your relationship, but you were too excited not to celebrate it. You had a feeling there would be many more months to come, you knew it from the first date. You’ve never been more certain about anything.

You roll up to Taehyun’s apartment complex and turn your music down to a whisper’s volume. You text him indicating that you’re outside and he steps out moments later. He looks so dashing in a white dress shirt, black pants, his dark hair pushed back, and a Rolex adorning his wrist. As soon as he slides into your car, you’re hit with the scent of his woodsy, floral cologne.

Does he have any idea how irresistible he is?

“Happy halfiversary, baby,” you say and lean in, smiling into the kiss he gives you. You playfully smack him on the arm when he doesn’t return the greeting and he holds back a smile, his lips pressing into a line.

“Come on, you have to say it too!”

“Or what, the magic won’t work?” he asks dryly.

“Come on, say it!” you whine, then cross your arms. “I’m not driving us to our reservation until you say it.”

His smile gets harder to suppress as you give him puppy eyes, you can tell his resolve is beginning to crack.

“Happy… halfiversary, Y/N,” he finally says. You pump your fist and kiss him on the cheek. He can’t stop himself from smiling and neither can you.

If there’s one thing you’ve grown to admire about Taehyun, it’s his dry sense of humor. He takes so much pleasure in messing with you, but you love to return the energy, pushing the boundaries of just what you can get him to do in the name of love.

You switch to the playlist you and Taehyun made when you first started seeing each other and warmth spreads in your chest as you reminisce.

It hasn’t been too long you started dating, but every day has been so bright since Taehyun entered your life.

You’re relieved by everything he is. Protective, kind, warm in his own special, Taehyun way. His warmth radiates even as he sits across from you and holds your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. The flame of the candle between you enhances the brown in his eyes.

Being an art museum security guard is a niche job that requires you to look tough and always be on your toes, but being around Taehyun allows you to let your guard down.

You’re the older of the two of you; you’re a couple of months into being 25 and Taehyun turned 21 just days before you met, but you turn into such a giddy child whenever he’s around.

You swing your arms as you hold hands and walk through the city streets together, and Taehyun watches you in amusement, a quiet fond smile on his face.

You make your way from the restaurant to the grocery store to stock up on snack foods for the night.

As you and Taehyun load your many bags of snacks into the trunk of your car, it finally hits you.

You’re going to be spending the night with him for the first time. You’ve never spent the night with a boyfriend before, much less even had a boyfriend before, period.

Your CRJ marathon continues as you drive back to Taehyun’s apartment. Want You In My Room starts to play and the heat rises in your cheeks. You try to keep your cool as the song plays. You’re having good conversation, but of course it settles to silence in the middle of the first chorus.

♪ I wanna do bad things to you / Slide on through my window / (I want you in my room) / Baby, don’t you want me, too? ♪

You get flustered and quickly switch to the next song.

“Subtle,” Taehyun remarks and you want to bury yourself in your steering wheel.

Despite your prior embarrassment, Taehyun has your back pressed against the wall the moment his front door shuts behind you. His hands slide up your waist and to the side of your neck as his lips press against yours.

He kneels in front of you and runs his hands up your legs and under your dress to play with the tops of your sheer tights.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, running his his hands down to rest on the backs of your thighs. He’s so breathtaking from this angle, looking up at you with those eager, glittering eyes.

His breath is fanning against your thigh, sending tingles up your spine and making you dizzy. Every cell in your body is urging you, screaming at you to say yes.

And yet…

“Wait,” you say, breathing a little heavily. “I… uh, I-I didn’t shave.”

“That doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, it bothers me,” you emphasize, sounding more offended than you intended. Taehyun pauses to look at you for a moment before the warmth of his hands slowly leave your body. You feel a pang of guilt and offer a meek apology as he rises to his feet.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

But that’s the problem. You do want to, you really really want to.

But there’s a massive roadblock that always stands in your way whenever situations like this arise.

A roadblock called inexperience.

You change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night watching competitive cooking shows on Netflix while gossiping about your work lives and sharing snacks like you’re two kids having a sleepover.

You fall asleep on the couch snuggled into his side and you’re stirred awake by his movement.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says sleepily. He helps you up from the couch and you can’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you realize you’ll be sleeping in the same bed together for the first time.

Once it dawns on you that you’re sleeping together, you’re too giddy to possibly fall asleep. You say goodnight when Taehyun falls asleep, but you’re still up, taking in the atmosphere of his bedroom. He has blackout curtains but a small, round galaxy lamp casts shadows on the ceiling and grants the perfect amount of light to the room. Everything smells like him, floral and woodsy like his cologne, but also like the lavender scent of his hair shampoo.

You could imagine yourself here more often.

When you wake up hours later, all you can do is stare at Taehyun’s sleeping face. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, even with his mouth slightly open and messy hair.

“Morning,” Taehyun says. His morning voice is so sexy, it warms up your entire body. He throws an arm over you and snuggles you closer. You’re close enough for the tips of your noses to touch, close enough to hear his breathing.

“G’morning,” you say then kiss the tip of your boyfriend’s nose.

“I made a brunch reservation for 10:00,” he says. “It’s a quarter to 9 now, so we have time.”

“Time for what?” you ask.

“Time for this,” Taehyun pounces on you and kisses you. You kiss him back and things get heated pretty quickly with his tongue making its way past your lips and into your mouth.

Your heart catches in your throat when you feel his morning wood poking at your inner thigh.

“Wanna make a mess before we get ready?” he asks, his tone suggestive as he slips his fingers past the fabric of your worn t-shirt. Your heart is hammering in your chest as the warmth of his hand against your waist makes you dizzy.

“I-I think we should start getting ready,” you say, shying away from Taehyun’s touch. He looks a bit disappointed but ultimately does what you say and removes his hands from your body.

You quickly get up to get your clothes for the day and go to take your shower.

The rest of the day is awkward, to say the least.

You and Taehyun walk back from brunch. You reach for his hand and hold it, but he doesn’t hold yours back. Taehyun, the chronic hand holder, not reaching for your hand as soon as you left the restaurant already raised a red flag, but him not holding your hand at all?

You get back to his place and take a seat on the couch. Taehyun sits on the couch too, but not immediately next to you. And at first, you chalk that up to him needing a bit of space. It’s not like he was icing you out, he wasn’t kicking you out, after all. He was still in the same room with you, just a little more quiet and distant than usual.

He’s pretty quiet for the rest of the day, giving you tacit responses when you ask questions and giving a half-hearted laugh when you try to tell a joke or make him laugh.

You finally notice things are wrong when he’s cooking dinner. You wrap your arms around his waist and he exhales through his nose.

“Now you want to touch me?” he asks. Your heart breaks a little as you let go of him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

Oh, so now it’s back to the short responses?

“No, it’s not nothing,” you say, it’s impossible to hide that you’re upset. “What did you mean?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” he asks. Where did this tone come from? He sounds like he’s joking, but not really. It’s really setting you off.

“Clearly there’s something I’m not getting,” you say.

“Then maybe you need some time to figure it out. Time away from me.”

You’re taken aback.

“Taehyun, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying you should probably go,” he finally turns to face you and his face is devoid of any warmth. When he looks at you with those cold eyes, it’s like the warmth leaves your body as well.

You search his face for any inkling of mirth or signs of him joking, but you don’t find any.

He really wants you to leave.

“Fine, I have work tomorrow anyway,” you stuff your clothes back into your bag, and storm out of Taehyun’s apartment without even a second glance. He doesn’t even look at you as you leave.

You walk to your car, not being able to hear much over your heart pounding in your ears. By the time you’re seated behind the wheel, your heart plummets.

It hits you that you’ve hurt your boyfriend’s feelings big-time. You didn’t need to see him on your way out to know that.

You can’t even bring yourself to start your car. You sit behind the wheel and hold back your tears until you can’t any longer, tears spilling down your cheeks while you mentally beat yourself up for having done this. Why were you so afraid? Why were you going out of you way to drive a wedge between the two of you?

It’s like you wanted him to hate you.

You check your phone at every red light, hoping and praying that he reaches out to you first, but to no avail. No message, no phone call, nothing from him.

A sinking feeling festers at the pit of your stomach. You’re not sure if you even want to go home, but you can’t think of anywhere else you could go.

Your housemates Jihyo and Nayeon are sitting in the living room laughing at something on TV and you know you’ve tanked the energy the moment you step through the door.

“You’re back,” Jihyo greets from the couch. “How’d it go?”

“It was… nice,” you say, voice strained.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Nayeon asks, clearly detecting that something’s wrong.

You can already feel the tears returning and you can’t stop them from falling. You break down into sobs and both Jihyo and Nayeon get up to console you. They lead you to the couch to sit down and you tearfully explained everything that has led up to this point.

“I hurt him,” you say between sobs and Nayeon rubs your shoulder. “He’s never gonna speak to me again.”

“Did he say that?” Jihyo asks.

“No, but he didn’t need to. Ever since this morning, he’s been tiptoeing around me and walking on eggshells trying not to upset me. He didn’t touch me, he didn’t even sit near me. He probably thinks I hate him.”

“Sounds like he thinks you’re mad at him,” Nayeon suggests.

“I’m not mad at him, I’m just.. scared of messing up.”

“Why are you so scared of going through with it?”

“I-I don’t think I’m ready. It’s something I want, but I don’t feel ready. There are only so many articles you can read and videos you can watch in preparation. Nothing compares to actual experience, and until meeting Taehyun, I’ve had none. What if I do something wrong? What if there’s something wrong with the way I smell or the way I taste or I can’t get into the right positions or—”

“—Y/N, no one’s first time is perfect,” Nayeon says. “The only way it can be close to perfect is by communicating with each other.”

“Right,” Jihyo adds. “Just like how you can’t read his mind, he can’t read yours either. You have to talk things through with him, even if it’s hard.”

You fall silent.

“Does he know he’s your first?” Jihyo asks.

You shake your head, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Y/N, you should tell him,” Nayeon says. “He should understand, he loves you.”

“After tonight, I’m not so sure he does. I don’t wanna lose him.”

“Please, you should see the way he looks at you,” Jihyo says. “He looks at you like you hung the moon and put every star in the sky. You’re not gonna lose him over this, just talk it out.”

You keep Jihyo and Nayeon’s words in mind as your fingers hover over your phone screen the following afternoon.

You have to do this, it’s now or never. A knot forms in your throat as you begin to type.

you: Hey are you busy tonight? I want to talk

taehyun: We’re talking now

you: No I wanna talk to you in person

you: If that’s okay

you: We can meet at that cafe you like

taehyun: That’s fine I have time after work

you: Okay see you then

He doesn’t respond and your entire body gets tense. Jihyo wasn’t wrong about this being hard.

You end up arriving first, standing outside the café with your hands in your pockets mentally hyping yourself up for this difficult conversation. You can do this. It’ll be hard but it’s important for your relationship.

You spot Taehyun from the corner of your eye and walk toward him, greeting him and giving him a hug. He doesn’t hug you back, that on its own worries you, but you try not to let it discourage you.

“How are things?” you ask from the across the table.

“Fine,” he says. His tone is so cold, not like the playful kind of cold tone he uses to tease you, but genuinely cold, distant even. A frigid silence settles between the two of you and your throat tightens.

“I wanna apologize for last weekend,” you start. “I didn’t mean to be so weird.”

“It’s fine,” Taehyun says, his voice is tense and it unsettles you.

“No, it’s not fine. I hurt you when I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry.”

Taehyun is unusually quiet, part of you wants to ask him why but you also want to give him the proper space to think.

"Y/N, be honest. Are you trying to break up with me?"

That question hits you like a slap in the face.

"What?"

"Whenever I try to touch you, you always push my hands away, change the topic, or run away. This didn’t start with last weekend, it’s been going on for a while now and I don’t know if I can take it anymore. What am I doing wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No, no. Taehyun, you're not doing anything wrong."

"Then why are you pushing me away?"

"I’m not pushing you away, I just…" you hesitate, looking down at your hands then back up at Taehyun, who's looking at you expectantly. He’s a bit upset, but it's clear that he wants to hear what you have to say for yourself.

The thing is, you aren't completely prepared to say it. You swallow, fighting the dryness seizing your throat.

"I’ve spent all my life feeling invisible. My friends had their first kisses before I did, got married before I did, started having kids before I did while I couldn’t even get a date. I felt like time was running out for me, and then I met you. Taehyun, you make me feel seen. Being with you makes me feel like the lovesick teenager I never got to be. Before we got together, I'd never had a boyfriend, been on a date, held someone's hand, or had my first kiss. You've been my first for everything, but whenever sex comes into play, I-I get scared.”

“Scared?”

“Scared that I won’t measure up, scared of how you’d react. You’ve had years of experience with different partners while I just bought a vibrator for the first time this year. Can you believe it? 25 and I just bought my first sex toy,” you say with a wry laugh. “You make me so happy, Taehyun. There’s no one else I’d rather have my first time with, but the thought of disappointing you or making you slow down for me hurts too much. I don’t want to do that to you."

There’s a long silence between the two of you. Taehyun pulls you into a tight hug. You’re startled at first, but you soon close your eyes and wrap your arms around him in return.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he sighs. “I’m- I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Another thing you’ve learned to love about Taehyun is his firm belief of actions speaking louder than words. The way he holds you tight in this café speaks for him perfectly. Sometimes words aren’t needed and this is one of those times for him.

“Let’s make some plans,” Taehyun says, determined. “I’m gonna give you the best first time you’ll ever have.”

As the week progresses, Taehyun texts you asking about your sexual preferences, your kinks, anything you’d like to try, and you answer to the best of your abilities. You blush when he tells you the things he’d like to do to you.

Things like tying you up, spitting in your mouth, overstimulation, the works. He emphasized that he’d only do these things if you want him to, but little does he know that you’d let him run you over with a tractor as long as he called you his princess while doing it.

But maybe you’ll reserve those for after your first time. Baby steps.

You open your underwear drawer and the tip of your one and only vibrator is staring you right in the face.

You stare at it for a good minute, wondering if you should bring it along on your journey. You suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea and tuck the toy into your purse.

You throw on your best dress and heels and make your way out the door. Your heart is beating at a thousand miles a minute but talking things through with Taehyun all week combined with your housemates’ good luck texts this morning give you all the confidence you need.

Your heart is pounding as you walk down the narrow hallway of his floor and get closer to his apartment. You knock on the door and you’re greeted with a surprisingly dressed down Taehyun. He’s got a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants on, a far cry from the glam look you decided to go with for today.

“Wow, you got all dressed up for me?” Taehyun wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you.

“I feel so overdressed,” you confess.

“Don’t worry, that won’t matter later,” he says with a smile and your cheeks burn. He leads you to his bedroom, but you can hardly wait to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him.

You don’t even make it to the bed before you pounce on him, pressing his back to his bedroom door and kissing him hard. He leans into it almost automatically as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer.

“Have I ever told you how sexy your legs look in tights?” Taehyun asks, running his hands up your legs.

“No, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it a couple hundred more times.”

“As you wish,” Taehyun kisses your neck and his hands go to the tops of your tights. He peels them off of your legs and casts them to the side. He sucks on the skin of your neck and you sigh at the sensation as he leaves a few pretty hickies behind.

His hands trail up your ass and to the invisible zipper on the back of your dress. Your heart skips a beat as you feel your dress slowly fall off of your body and pool around your feet on the floor. Taehyun grabs your shoulders and turns you toward the full-length mirror. He snakes his arms around your waist to hug you from behind.

”God, look at you,” Taehyun whispers against your skin. “I can’t believe no one’s gotten their hands on you yet. How did I get so lucky?”

Taehyun sits at the end of the bed and pulls you down onto his lap so that you’re still facing the mirror.

“Lift your hips,” he says into your ear. You do as your told and lift your hips so he can take your panties off. Once he rolls them down your thigh, you wriggle out of them and kick them off to the side. Taehyun unhooks your bra and pulls it off of you, letting it fall to the floor next to your underwear.

It’s a little embarrassing, sitting in his lap completely naked while he’s fully clothed.

Taehyun explores your naked body with his hands, fingers dragging up your thighs to your stomach to squeeze your breasts. You close your eyes and relax into his touch, feeling every individual callus on the skin of his palm. He slides his thumb over your bottom lip and you sigh, granting him access to your mouth. He shoves two fingers into your mouth and your tongue lazily swirls around his fingers before you begin to suck on them.

“That’s it, princess. You’re a quick learner,” he says and you tingle from his praise. He thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth and you suck on his digits with every movement.

After a minute or so, he pulls them out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your eyes shoot open when you feel his saliva coated fingers in your pussy. Your back arches from the sensation and you make a noise you’ve never heard yourself make before. Taehyun chuckles.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers and kisses the shell of your ear. “So wet already and we’ve just barely started. I can’t wait to make a mess of you.”

He grabs your jaw with his free hand and turns your head to face the mirror head-on.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror for me.”

You obey, but it’s so hard. Your vision goes blurry as you watch as his fingers thrust in and out of your wet, throbbing entrance. He curls them in just the right way to have you moan so loudly that you shock yourself. You throw your hand over your mouth, but Taehyun quickly removes it.

You've never seen or heard yourself like this before. He’s driving you absolutely wild.

His erection presses against your ass and when you grind against it, his breath hitches.

He rubs at your swollen clit with the heel of his palm. It’s enough to have you clamping your legs shut and squirming in his lap. Taehyun uses his free hand to hold your leg open as he continues to tease your clit at that same, excruciatingly slow rhythm.

You come undone, high pitched moans leaving your lips as you writhe in his lap and he holds you in his strong arms. He continues to finger you through your orgasm until you’re reduced to a panting and whimpering mess.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “You’re so good, princess.”

You go limp in his arms and he holds you, closing his eyes and burying his face in your bare shoulder.

“Are you okay? Do you have enough energy to get on the bed for me?” he asks. You nod and he helps you up anyway, taking your hand and getting you properly seated on the bed.

You sleepily watch as Taehyun slowly undresses, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it into the nearest laundry basket. He pulls a foil packet from the pocket of his sweatpants and places it on his nightstand.

And then, suddenly, you have a lightbulb moment.

“Can we try something?” you ask.

Taehyun raises an eyebrow. “In the mood to experiment already?” You nod shyly and he leans in, eager to listen.

“Can you get my vibrator from my purse? I want you to use it on me.”

It’s a simple little thing, a pink silicone rabbit vibrator about five inches tall.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, hand resting on your thigh.

You shrug, “I don’t know, be creative.”

“How about you show me how you use it?” he tosses the device to you and your mouth goes dry.

“You’ve used it on yourself before, right? I want to watch you use it.”

You’re frozen in place as the gears in your brain slowly turn in an effort to process what he just said.

“You’re already naked, love. Just get in the usual position you’re in when you use it. I won’t judge you, I promise.”

You’re hesitant but you eventually roll over onto your stomach and shift onto your knees so that your ass is in the air and your face is buried in the softness of one of the memory foam pillows. It smells just like his shampoo, you close your eyes and bury yourself in the scent until your eyes suddenly snap open and you remember what you’re in the middle of.

You can’t see Taehyun but can you feel his eyes on you and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’m waiting,” he says in a teasing tone and your face heats up. You press the button at the bottom of the vibrator to turn it on and hold it against your pussy, not yet sliding it inside. You take a breath and rub it against your slit, your thighs twitching when it brushes by your sensitive clit.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

You jolt at the question, already feeling flushed.

“Don’t be shy, you can tell me. It’ll be our little secret.”

He must think he’s so funny. It’s hard to concentrate, your mind is already foggy as you try to focus on your own pleasure while trying to put on a good first show for your boyfriend.

“Put it inside,” he says, softly but commanding. You do as he says, mewling as you push the silicone toy into your dripping core.

“Do you imagine me fucking you?”

Taehyun hovers over you, his toned chest pressing against your back. He kisses your shoulder and slides a hand down over your busy hand, helping you to thrust the vibrator in and out of you.

“It doesn’t compare to me, does it? Doesn’t stretch you out and fill you up like I can, either.”

The mere thought of having him inside you is enough to turn you on even more. Your pussy tightens around the toy, but he’s right. It isn’t enough. You want— no, you need more.

You need him.

“What’s wrong, princess? Can’t cum? Not even with me helping you?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears, you’re so close yet overstimulated at the same time and you’re not sure you can take this any longer. You wordlessly shake your head.

“Want my cock instead?” he asks and you nod fervently. He pulls the vibrating toy out of you and the vibrating sensation that initially numbed your pussy is replaced with the head of Taehyun’s cock. You whimper and he kisses your shoulder.

“Let me know if I need to slow down, okay?”

You give a nod and he plants another kiss on your shoulder before aligning his cock against your pussy and pushing into you. You hiss, hands tightly gripping the cotton sheets beneath you as you feel him slowly fill you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, stretching around him burns, but the pain slowly starts to settle in the boundary of pleasure as Taehyun slowly slides into you until he bottoms out.

You’re pretty sure you’ve elevated to higher plane. You can feel every curve and vein of his length inside you, he fits you so perfectly.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice soft as a feather.

“Mhm,” you sigh. “Feels so good…”

“Mm, that’s my girl,” he rubs your thighs and up towards your stomach. “Relax, okay? I’ll take good care of you.”

You steady your breathing for a moment before he drags his length out of you and plunges it back in. He thrusts particularly deep and hits a spot that has you drooling and grabbing the sheets until your hands start shaking.

“Fuck, Taehyun…!” you cry.

“I’m here, princess. I’m here,” he says soothingly. “You’re doing so good.”

He continues to pound into you, hitting that same spot over and over, it feels so good you could cry. His girthy cock is filling you up, stretching you out so perfectly; you can’t imagine why you waited so long for this, but you’re so glad you’re experiencing it now.

Your entire body runs hot and your thighs quake as you feel a pressure building in your hips.

“T-Taehyun, I’m… ‘m- shit, I’m so close,” you squeak.

“Cum for me, princess. I want you to fucking drench me,” Taehyun says, thrusting faster. “Come on, give it to me.”

You cum so hard that your entire body shakes and your voice breaks. You call Taehyun’s name over and over like it’s a prayer and he holds you tight. Your reaction is enough to push him over the edge as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You’re mine, no one else can have you,” he breathes, thrusting in you faster and faster until he finally cums. You shudder at the way his cock swells inside of you. Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath.

“C’mere, I wanna look at you…” Taehyun pulls out and turns you over on your back so that he’s hovering over you. The outline of his toned body has your heart racing. It’s only been seconds but you already miss the feeling of him inside you.

“You’re so pretty,” he leans in to kiss your forehead and you instantly get butterflies. He falls onto you and you wrap your arms around his waist. You lay there for a minute, still catching your breath until your breathing is in sync.

“Y/N, I want…” his words trail off, he looks flustered. You silently urge him to continue and he gives you a shy, hesitant look you’ve never seen before.

“You might not have been my first, but I want you to be my last,” he confesses. “I know it might be too soon to say it, but I—”

Before Taehyun can continue, you grab his face and kiss him. It’s clumsy, your faces mush together in an awkward kind of way but you can’t help the way you’re feeling. All the admiration and fondness you have for him overtook you like a tidal wave. You separate and he stares at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, continue.” you apologize, breathless. Taehyun looks at you with amusement.

He chuckles, “No, I think that spoke for me just fine.”

“Come on, say it.”

“Are you gonna interrupt me again?”

“Only if you want me to,” you say with a suggestive raise of your eyebrows. Taehyun laughs, it sounds like the ringing of bells.

“I love you, Y/N. I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re mine.”

You smile, holding back your tears of happiness, “I hope you know there’s no getting rid of me now that you’ve said that.”

“Wouldn’t want that for the world,” Taehyun kisses you and lays his head on your bare chest. You run your hands through his hair.

“I love you, Taehyun. I love you so much.”

[bettyfrommars]

Ring of Fire

a biker Steve au

Part 1 || I went down, and the flames went higher

18+ONLY || afab!Reader, eventual smut, alcohol consumption, allusions to dirty deeds, smoking, allusions to sex with someone other than reader (not cheating), allusions to violence/fighting, bloody knuckles, eventual breaking & entering, biker!Eddie, biker!Hopper, reader and Steve are in their early 30's. Please read warning for each part.

masterlist playlist

Summary || You haven't set eyes on Steve Harrington since the 8th grade, but you have no problem recognizing him almost 20 years later when he steps back into your life. A lot has changed in Hawkeye, the town you grew up in, but a lot has stayed the same.

word count: 5k

A/N || This is my version of Hawkins, a town called Hawkeye, and it is a desert town surrounded by tumbleweeds, agriculture, and junkyards. Even though Steve is a biker and a mechanic, I try to maintain his "essence". I plan for this to be a shorter series, like 3 or 4 parts, but those are always famous last words from this lyin', cheatin' mouth. This is a niche fic, and for the ten people who will appreciate it, I love you.

The bell on the door dinged to let you know you had a customer, but you didn’t look up right away, you were too busy trying to figure out why your till was a few bucks short for the day.  Donna would not be happy.  Heavy foot falls made it to the counter and then the person in question cleared his throat.

“Ten on pump 2 and a pack of reds, please,” the voice was deep and scratchy, like he was recovering from a sore throat.

You closed the cash register and glanced up for the first time.

The sight made you inhale a sharp breath and hold it.  The man had on a thick motorcycle jacket zipped up halfway over a white tee, atop blue jeans that were a dark denim wash, faded over time, with a tattered hole in one knee.  There were tattoos scattered over his flesh, peeking from his collar, and down his hands.  Letters on his knuckles spelled something that you couldn't quite make out, and he had a luscious mop of maple syrup hair on his head that looked like it had once been gelled into place but lost the fight hours ago.  He raked a big hand through it slowly, pausing halfway through the movement, and tucked his chin to pin you with an anticipatory stare. 

The last person you every expected to see again was Steve Harrington.

He pushed his wayfarer sunglasses up to reveal hazel eyes that were just as sad as they were electric. Swiping the tip of his tongue over his top lip, he repeated himself.  “Pump 2?”

You gave a flustered wave of your hand.  “Yes, of course,” turning to pull a soft pack from the wall behind you.  “Matches?”

He shook his head, and then, “just a sec,” before sauntering over to the aisle on the other side of the potato chips.  

Tossing a back of Magnum condoms on the counter next to his smokes, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket and said a polite, “those too, please.” The wallet was as worn as his jeans and connected by a chain to one of his belt loops.  

The cash register made loud click-clack noises as you punched in the numbers and gave him the total.  You weren’t expecting to see the wad of bills that fanned, but then he handed you what you needed.

“You new here?” He asked as you passed him his change, rolling a piece of bright green gum from the inside of his cheek to start chewing it again.

You stumbled over the question.  “New to this store or Hawkeye?”

A smirk lifted up one side of his mouth.  “Both, I guess?”

He was well aware that you were new to the corner gas n’ sip because he’d been a regular customer for years, and he definitely would have remembered you. 

Definitely.

Yet, something about you felt very familiar. 

“I grew up here,” your delivery was dry.  

Steve tilted his head back to assess you down the bridge of his nose and frowned like he didn’t believe you.  You noticed that his hands were rough and stained with evidence that he did some vocation of hard labor for a living.   

You decided to humor him with a clue.  “I left Hawkeye right before my freshman year.  My hair was different back then, and my mom drove a big, white Buick LeSabre—-”

With an unblinking stare, he blurted your name, repeating it a few times in disbelief as the memory seized him. 

There you were, the one who’d haunted his middle school dreams.  The first notable crush he ever had, standing a few feet in front of him 

“Shitttt,” he continued, scooping his purchases up in one hand, huffing out a breath.  He searched your face, and you watched the light in his eyes intensify. “You were a year older than me, right?  I remember you were always so bossy on the playground.”

You sealed your lips over a chuckle.  “Well, someone had to keep you and Eddie from dismantling the playground equipment to sell to the salvage yard.”

Steve chomped down on his lip in a smile, his hip finding the edge of the counter, trying to get closer to you.  “Copper,” he corrected with a one-eyed squint.  “We wanted to dismantle the lampposts.  Copper wiring could earn a pretty penny back then.”

“You’re still good with your hands I see,” gesturing to his calloused digits, the moons of his cuticles stained from motor oil, knuckles slashed with white scarring.

He flexed his right hand into a fist and then opened it again, deliberate and slow, watching you as he did so.  “I do all right.”

He was leaning over the counter at that point, elbow resting next to the cash register,  hip jutting out behind him, holding his mouth as if he were about to say something—-

“...and then, do you know what Ned said to me? Nothing, that’s what. Three days and I barely get two words out of him.  Before you go, there are two crates that need to be put away in the back—-”

56 year old Donna, your boss, approached the front desk from the back room, buzzing with conversation.  She stopped short when she saw Steve there, and tucked some silver, permed hair behind her ear.  

“Oh, hey Steven,” she greeted.  

“Donna,” he gave a twitch of a smile, standing to full height again, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.  “I was just catching up with an old friend.”

Donna had on bright pink lipstick and heart-shaped, baby blue clip-on earrings.  “You know Steve?”

“You could say that,” you stared at him as you said it.  “I’ve tried to put it behind me.“

Steve ran his tongue over the ridge of his teeth at that, and you could see that the left incisor was gold.  

Donna crowded in behind you, trying to get to the styrofoam container with her food inside that was on a stool just below the rack of caffeine pills.  It was leftover burger and fries from the diner across the street and the smell had been making your mouth water.  

“How’s Eddie?” Donna asked, and it was obvious she was talking to Steve. “Haven’t seen him drop by here in a while.”

Steve pulled his sunglasses out of his nest of hair and slid them back down to his nose before giving you one final look.  You backed up against the cigarette display to watch him go.

“He’s been busy,” Steve gnawed his gum, addressing your boss.  “Business at the garage has picked up since the only other mechanic in town split.  I work there part time when I’m not—” he swallowed back whatever he was initially about to say.  “---when I’m not doing other things.”

Donna shoved the corner of her sesame seed bun burger in her mouth, chewed it and kept talking.  “I saw Robin yesterday.  Her and Ratchet back together?”

In the past few days of your employment, you were learning that Donna was a pillar of gossip in the community, and she wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions.  

Steve scratched the stubble on his chin, possibly contemplating how much he should share.  “I think they have an understanding,” he chimed diplomatically, stealing another glance in your direction. 

“Say hi to Wayne for me,” Donna added as Steve pushed his way out the mostly glass door.  He waved over his shoulder in response, nodding that he would.  

You shimmied further along behind the counter, pretending to organize the pens, so that you could follow where Steve was going, see what he was driving.  

To your surprise, he pumped gas into a hulking, coal black motorcycle with ape-hanger handlebars and blue ghost flames on the tank.  You were staring with your mouth slightly agape when Donna’s voice broke your concentration.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, cheek of food again.  “That boy is adorable, but he’s bad news.”

“Why?” The question was out of your mouth before you were cognitively aware of it.   

She thumbed ketchup from the corner of her mouth.  “You ever heard of the Coffin Kings?” 

Your gaze flicked to the side, catching Steve as he kicked a leg over to straddle the bike.  “I don’t think—it doesn’t ring a bell.”

You were lying; of course you’d heard of the Coffin Kings.  How could you forget the horde of long-haired bikers who cruised through town when you were a kid, a few of them stopping by to pick Eddie and Steve up from school on occasion.  Eddie’s uncle Wayne was one of the original members, and most of the teachers kept their manners around the boys for that reason alone.  Sure, Steve got detention for carving his initials into one of the school desks, but little did you know that it was only because he knew you would be in there too.  

Steve revved the bike to life until it was growling, idling in place with his back to you while he strapped his bare bones helmet on.  

“How do you know him?” Donna asked, not afraid to be pushy. 

“Well, I—” you thought about the specifics of that question.  “I don’t know him at all anymore, really.  We were just kids. It’s been a long time.”

“You want my advice?” Donna wiped her mouth with a tissue from a nearby Kleenex box.  

You didn’t, but you knew you couldn’t stop her from giving it to you.

“If you’re looking for a bad boy type, his friend Eddie is a much better catch.  Runs his own business, works hard, stays out of trouble.  Steve? Well, let’s say Stevie is just—-”

You turned to her as Steve hit the main road and shot into the distance.  “He’s what?”

You waited while she rolled her lips together, wetting them thoughtfully, turning her gaze to the ceiling.

“He’s a nice kid, but he’s trouble,” she sighed.  “He’s not the type you’d want to get serious with, if you know what I mean.”

Coincidentally, you did know what that meant.  You were a bit of a connoisseur when it came to trouble; not only could you sniff it out, but it flocked to you like seagulls on a parking lot french fry.  

But what Donna didn’t know was that you were no angel.

You scoffed at her suggestion.  “I’m not looking for a relationship any time soon.  I plan to stay single for a while.”

Donna dumped the rest of her dinner in the trash under the cash register.  “In that case, you and Steve have more in common than I thought.”

—-----

Steve had the rest of the evening off, he should’ve gone straight home to have a beer in his boxers in front of the TV and try to pass out early. He’d been slinging wrenches at Munson’s Garage that day, a double shift to help Eddie out, and his hand was throbbing so hard he had to take it off the throttle and shake it out. 

But also, who was he kidding?  He hadn’t slept more than a few hours that whole week. He needed a distraction, he needed people, he needed to forget his gut-wrenching loneliness for a while.  

He revved the throttle, shooting himself faster along the empty highway, passing nothing but flat alfalfa fields and the odd farmhouse every mile or so.  The low, desert hills rolled like sleeping giants on the horizon as dusk descended.

The Blue Light Tavern was housed in a brick building built in the 40’s, located between the truck stop and the Rosebud Motel, about a mile or so from the center of town.  The only way anyone passing by would even know it was a tavern was due to the neon Pabst and Jameson signs in the two tiny front windows.  There were already two motorcycles out front when Steve pulled up, and he found a spot at the end.  

The bartender that night was Angie, and she greeted him by name when he strolled in.  He asked for a beer, picked some songs on the jukebox, and started a game of pool with a fellow MC member, cigarettes bobbing from their lips as they played.  

That's when you walked in. 

He took a drink from his pint glass, pausing it there, watching you scan the room before making your way quietly to one of the stools at the far end of the bar, on the corner, closest to the door, as if you might have to make a run for it.  You were in the same clothes you’d had on at the gas n’ sip, but now you wore a zip-up black hoodie, hugging it around your ribs as if you were cold.  

The guy Steve was playing pool with was known as Big Jim around Hawkeye. Head of hair slicked back with generous sideburns down to his jaw, and a white scar making a thin indentation from the corner of his mouth to his ear.  He wore a long sleeve red and black flannel under his Coffin Kings kutte with the name Hopper patched on one side.     

Hopper said something to Steve and he appeared to ignore him, but finally blinked a few times.  “What did you say?”

Hopper held his pool cue across his lap as he sat on one of the tall swivel chairs against the wall, long legs braced wide.  “It’s your move, Romeo,” he drawled, plucking his smoke from the ashtray to take a drag. .

Steve suddenly got very confused, frowning when he turned to his friend.  How could Hop know he was interested in you? 

Hop gestured to the green felt under the Budweiser chandelier with his chin, exhaling, framing his lips to make an “O” with the smoke.  “Your turn, pipsqueak.”

“Right,” Steve huffed, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall.  

—--------

You waited outside, staring up at the Pabst neon that was missing the “b”, trying to work up the nerve to go in.  The Blue Light Tavern had been around so long, you remembered it from the rare occasions when your dad met up with his buddies, back when it was called The Hideaway.  Before the accident, back when you were a kid and considered Hawkeye your home.  

You were officially a resident once more, but you weren’t sure if you’d feel at home anywhere ever.  You weren’t sure if you’d ever feel safe again.  You weren’t sure you’d ever feel again.

When you finally opened the door, smoke billowed out, and the low-lit, grimey ambiance felt like a familiar friend.  You weren’t in the mood to drink, necessarily, you just didn’t want to sit at your apartment alone.  There weren’t many public places open in Hawkeye after 9, so you’d just been walking around aimlessly for the past hour.  Your tiny rental above the Gas n’ Sip was empty but for a mattress, two kitchen chairs, and five or six boxes you still needed to unpack. It all felt too dismal and overwhelming to tackle after your first full day at your new job.  

“What’ll it be darlin’?” The brunette bartender asked, using a white rag to wipe down the bar in front of you.  There was ice melting in a tumbler, a few used toothpicks, and a sticky ring on the woodgrain.  She scooped it all out of the way and then stared at you with a hand on her ample hips.

You were flustered and said the first thing that came to mind.  “Can you make a gin and tonic?”

“I think I can handle that,” she winked, moving out of the way to grab a glass.  You could hear the billiard balls clacking together over the music of Bringin' on the Heartache by Def Leppard , but there was a jukebox and a length of partition in the way, so you couldn’t see who was at the table. Including you, there were only a handful of customers that night; one surly man with a long gray beard at the bar, a couple at a table looking up at the mounted Zenith TV on the wall playing a muted episode of the Twilight Zone, and another two were throwing darts at a well worn target.  

Angie placed a white cocktail napkin before setting your drink down.  “Someone bought you this,” she had tiny veins of red around the cracks of her bare lips, as if she’d been wearing lipstick earlier.

“Someone?” Disbelief came first, and then it made you paranoid.  The last thing you wanted was to get hit on by—-

“It was him,” Angie gestured down the end of the bar to where Steve caught your eye and bucked his chin at you.  

The universe really did have a sense of humor.

—-----

A few minutes later, once he finished his game and let Hopper win just to move things along, he sauntered over to put his booted foot up on the bottom rung of the stool next to you. His white tee had a V-neck, exposing a tuft of chest hair.  “Are you following me?”

You swished your drink with a red stir stick, and then sucked it clean.  “I won’t let this freebie go to my head, Harrington.  I bet you buy drinks for all the new women in town.”

He gripped a fresh cigarette between pursed lips and lit the end, looking up at you from under his furrowed, James Dean brow.  “Yeah, but you’re not new.”

“Shhh it’s a secret,” you snipped two fingers in the air like a pair of scissors and he grinned at that, offering his pack of reds for you to take one. One of his ears was pierced, and a small silver hoop curved there.  

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t,” you answered flatly, leaning over so that he could light the end for you with his plastic blue Bic, inhaling so that your cheeks hollowed.  

“You want to read my palm again?”

“Again?” You exhaled smoke to the side.

Steve straddled the stool and got comfortable with his elbows on the bar.  “You read my palm once when we were kids,” he straightened his arm, locking his elbow, so that his palm was open in front of you.  “I think you said my love life would be troubled, but I’d live a long life.  And then you made some crack about how I’d let the right one get away.”

You huffed a laugh and chomped onto your bottom lip to keep from smiling too big, staring at his strong fingers as they wiggled in front of you, veins popping strong in his forearm. 

“I can’t believe you remember that.” Tilting your head to the side, you took another sip of your drink, cringing a little at the strength of the alcohol; it was a glass of gin with a splash of tonic.  But maybe Angie’s heavy hand was a blessing that night.  

The gold in his tooth flashed like lightning in a storm. “I remember everything,” his voice was soft and deep, and you had to look away before he turned you into a brainless, lovesick zombie from his vampiric-strength powers of persuasion. 

Clearing your throat, you squirmed a bit under the weight of his stare.  “My palmistry days are behind me. I’m out of practice.”

He slid his hand back, but slowly, hoping you might want to touch it or grab it or—-

“But I am curious—”

Fingers flexed flat again as an invitation.

“---what does it say on your knuckles?”

“Oh these?” He made two fists and twisted them to read it himself as if he wasn’t sure, and then put both palms flat and slid them back in your direction, fingers splayed.  

Murmuring aloud as you spelled it out, you realized that the right knuckles spelled LOVE and the left ones said PAIN in thick, capital lettering.  

“My turn,” he pulled back his shoulders, taking another drag, squinting, before resting his cigarette butt back in the ashtray.

“Your turn for what?”

“Questions. What is that key around your neck for?”

You slapped a hand over the metal piece dangling from a chain, not realizing it had escaped the confines of your shirt collar, fingering it thoughtfully as you thought about what type of story you should make up.  

You could tell him the truth, but you weren’t sure you were emotionally equipped to answer any further questions.  You made a fist around the key and started massaging it with your thumb, when another hulking biker with a thick mustache cupped a meaty hand onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Bones just paged, we gotta meet them at the junkyard,” the big man shifted his kind, blue eyes to you, blinking with a nod of his head to acknowledge your presence, and offer his silent apologies all at once.  

Steve stood without argument, clearly duty bound, but his attention remained on you. He motioned Hopper ahead, and then he idled there, internally stumbling over his words.

“Any chance you’ll be here again tomorrow night?” He flicked the spark on his lighter a few times as he spoke out of nervous habit.

You tucked the metal key into your shirt.  “I work the late shift at the gas station tomorrow.” 

His mood seemed to lift slightly at knowing where you would be.  

“Taz,” Hopper hummed from the door where he braced it open with his broad back, offering a blast of fresh air to the nicotine saturated walls. Taz was Steve’s nickname in the club, but that was just one more thing you had yet to learn about him. He adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, gave your bicep a tender squeeze as he went by, and leaned down to whisper, “it’s good to see you,” at the shell of your ear, giving you goosebumps.  

Once he was gone, the tavern suddenly felt emptier, the sound of George Thorogood singing about drinking alone pounding much louder as you stared down at the glass in your hand.  

You finished your drink and then you made the trek back home, hugging yourself against the crisp night breeze, wondering how you would occupy your time for the next couple hours before you found sleep.

—------

The roar of their two engines cut through the dry June night like a knife, affording no illumination but their headlights and the moon.  Steve had replaced his leather jacket with his own MC leather that said TAZ on the front from one of his saddlebags, bare flesh of his arms exposed to show the scattering of tattoos there as he gripped the handlebars.  Both riders wore clear safety glasses to protect their eyes from the wind and the kamikazee bugs.  

Snipes Junkyard loomed menacingly in the expanse of desert, shrouded in cobalt night.  Heaps of twisted metal wreckage, smashed cars all piled on top of each other, and a high fence made of corrugated metal with curls of razor wire along the top ridge.  

There was a group of bikes parked out front when they arrived and two of the Coffin Kings Prospects, Riot and Krebs, guarded the gate to the place.  

Both new arrivals put their helmets on the end of their handlebars and tucked their safety glasses into their front pocket as they approached.

“What are we walking into?” Hopper asked, and Riot was already shaking his head in answer.

“The underground tunnels were breached,” he said, tucking a strand of curly black hair behind his ear.  “Crater isn’t happy.”

Crater was a Hawkeye native who got his nickname because of the chicken pock scars that covered his cheeks and jaw. He was also President of one of the other MC’s in town called the Skull Crushers.

When tensions were high among the gangs, there was always a good chance someone would pull a gun or start punching, so Steve and Hopper shared a weary look, bracing themselves before entering.

—------

Just as you were about to step up onto your block, you caught sight of someone coming out of the mini mart that you lived above.  A side door led up a flight of narrow stairs, and the top room was all yours; it was the size of a tin can, but it was shelter and you were grateful.  

Through the soft glow of the front window, you saw Donna’s husband Ned behind the counter with his half-moon reading spectacles on and a novel open in front of him.  Which reminded  you to make sure you brought some material to entertain you on your shift the next night.  

Somewhere not too far off in the distance, a group of coyotes yipped their excited whines.

The person who’d just come out paused on the sidewalk to light a smoke, and you sank around the corner of the building to watch the guy in the jeans, leather, and thick boots stroll over to put some gas in the tank of his Harley. Bulkier than the one Steve rode, this one was glossy obsidian with chrome pipes and a sissy bar in back, as if he usually had a rider with him.  His hair was unruly, long and dark, and once you caught a glimpse of his profile from the dim beam above the pumps, you knew right away that it was Eddie Munson.  

You thought about getting his attention to say hello, but then realized that your social battery was tapped for the day.  The cigarette dangled from his mouth when he took off, and you waited until he was down the street before darting to the stairs of your apartment.

—-----

A few hours later, Steve’s left hand with the PAIN held a black payphone receiver to his ear while the other hand rolled the numbers on the rotary dial.  His knuckles were freshly spit and bleeding, since one of the Skull Crushers had come at him during a misunderstanding at the meet earlier, and he was forced to lay the guy out.  He felt wired, like rest had somehow become his enemy, something he ran from as it tracked him ruthlessly.  

A woman who went by the name Lorelei picked up on the second ring.  

“It’s me,” he coughed and tasted that familiar copper tang. “It’s Steve.  Are you busy?”

It was almost 4 in the morning, but Steve had been a regular customer for a few months and, also, she didn’t mind his company.  He wasn’t like her other customers; he didn’t want the typical things from her.  

His hand haphazardly bandaged with a red handkerchief; he hugged it to his chest when he knocked at the door of room 8 at the Rosebud Motel.  When it opened, Lorelei stood there with a silk, periwinkle kimono wrapped snug around her curves, and motioned him in. There were two lamps on in the room, both of their shades draped with floral scarves, and a candle burned on the nightstand, smelling of essential oils, bergamot and lavender.   She didn’t live at the Rosebud, but she did stay a few nights in a row there when she was working.  

Steve's relationship history thus far had been a blur of endless disconnect, a series of hit and runs that left his heart empty and his eyes vacant.  It was easy for a guy in a motorcycle club to get laid; their parties were always crawling with eager pussy.  But after a certain age, that wasn’t what he craved anymore. He often worried that the parental dynamic he’d witnessed growing up, or lack thereof, had fucked him up to the point that he would never be able to have a normal relationship with a girl he liked.  

A while ago he’d given up on love, figured that he was broken. But he still had urges, and making them transactional helped him to disengage further.  

“What are you in the mood for?” Lorelei hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled him closer, searching his face.  “Same as last time, hmm?”

Steve lowered his head, internal exhaustion making him dizzy.  He held her arm, thumbing the delicate material of her robe.  “Not tonight,” he swallowed thickly.  “Just the stuff that…comes after.”

Nodding that she understood, she cupped his chin so he would look at her. “Will three hours be enough?” One look at him told her what he needed was 24 at the least, but three was all she had to give.

Over the years, Steve had come to realize that his insomnia was somehow cured when he could sleep next to someone.  To roll over and have them there, to hold them.  Alone, his mind raced, and nightmares plagued the inside of his eyelids. With Lorelei, they mostly slept side by side, and the weight and familiarity of her was somehow enough to calm his nervous system down to a reasonable level.

“Come,” she sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to unlace his boots.  He wrestled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, ready to pluck some bills out, but she put her hand up to stop him.

“After, okay? I trust you,” she whispered, tugging off the first boot by the heel, rubbing the ball of his foot a little before moving to the next shoe.  

Steve’s head bobbed on his neck, and then he rolled it back to center, eyes heavy.   

He always refused to undress fully, and Lorelei suspected it had something to do with how vulnerable it made him feel, but she never asked questions.  He scooted up to find the pillow with his head, and by the time she crawled in next to him and put her hand on his thigh, he was out.  

-------

Thank you to my darling readers who love biker Steve!

[toooliix]

hey! alright so i may have done a thing

so for the past,,, idk 3 weeks? ive been going on a deep dive into spelling bee mostly to sedate my own curiosity of needing to know everything about what i'm interested in. as it turns out, there is a LOT of content with this musical, so i'm here to talk about my findings! note: i will be keeping this EXCLUSIVE to the original 2005 off broadway cast. as much as i'm a brown university girlie through and through, the original cast is where the content is. OKAY FIRST: youtube findings

a lot of small videos were made usually with logainne and leaf. you'll be quick to learn that they made the most off stage content. i have a public playlist with these videos, along with interviews, the original boot, and a few other things. the cast album isn't in it because that's audio only and i want visuals damnit. (plus its on spotify and easy to look up so.) the exception is 25apcsbmt12doc because its pretty underground and the purpose is to get word out about niche things.

second: myspace pages a lot of the spellers have myspace pages! this is like. a common thing!! only two were archived (leaf and logainne) and are able to be accessed! i'll talk about the others in a bit. they contain new information and i personally find them very interesting!

leaf logainne

HOWEVER: three are currently able to be accessed through modern myspace without needing an account. the format is off, but it's accessable.

barfee 25apcsb account panch third: other

there's two different things here so i'll separate them :]

3.1: r/v club

r/v club is a short film by rebecca feldman (one of the people that worked on spelling bee) that includes logainne! it can be found on her site with other short films. i believe this is the only one with her in it HOWEVER i have not checked therefore i could be wrong. it's set post-spelling bee, i believe. also jesse is in it but not as leaf.

r/v club

3.2: official site

spelling bee had a site!! and official merch!! its just a cool thing i think. it'll be mentioned again in the last section

spelling bee site

fourth and final: lost media (to my knowledge)

okay, spelling bee has.... QUITE a bit of lost media. again, this will be separated into parts.

4.1: C-R-E-P-U-S-C-U-L-E

before spelling bee was a thing, crepuscule (albiet mispronounced) was an improv play made by the farm. (same group who made r/v club) a lot of the characters were similar or the same, and it has a similar premise. however, it wasn't a musical. from what i've heard, there USED to be a boot of it, however i haven't found one of my own. i would love to be corrected.

4.2 myspace pages

remember how i was going to say this was going to come up again? hi thats now. outside of leaf and logainne, other myspace accounts were made! mitch (comfortcounselor), olive (mydictionary) + (oliveostrovsky), chip (chiptolentino), marigold (marigoldconeybear) an olive and barfee joint account (ilovemydictionary), and a leaf and logainne joint account (schwartzylogan). there's also another leaf account with the very confusing name of panchspell the issue with these is that theyre not archived, so you'll need a myspace account with a verified email to view these. in the year of our lord 2024 that's not exactly an easy find, especially since verification emails no longer send. plus, one of olive's accounts is dictionary.com now so,,,, who knows what it looks like there. most also need a connection, which makes things even MORE difficult. i hate how close but out of reach these accounts are.

4.3. spelling bee game

yeah they had a game. it's on the site, and it's eternally stuck at loading characters from my experience. here's the link anyway! game

4.4 the dirty bee

oh jesus its the dirty bee. so for context, in 2006 when the show was running, a few nights were booked for spelling bee that were meant for mature audiences and were 18 plus. it's catered towards people who have already seen the bee and want something new. it was inspired by jay (panch) and putting in words or sentences researsals that were clearly for funnies because he was bored. alas it became a derivative of the musical. all we know is what an article provides (theres more than one but the one linked gives the most info) and that chip quote unquote "finished off" at my unfortunate erection according to jose. there's rumor that chip is canonically bi in it but theres no sources so,,,, can't confirm that one.

article

(the quote is said in the reunion "stars in the house" and is found in the playlist)

conclusion:

there's genuinely so much shit in this musical i find it fascinating. this post WILL be updated with any other finds or information. PLEASE dm me or let me know if i got something wrong or if you have something to add (though do add a source, please and thank you)

ALSO: reblogs are greatly appreciated!! shoutout to the wiki, @/honkmaster69 and the people i spam in dms for helping and tolerating me <33

[lynsstrange]

the marauders as color/winter guard performers headcannons

(For the enjoyment of me and the probably one other person on the platform who’s two niche interests somehow overlap)

James:

Section leader during marching season, team captain during winter season

Takes it VERY seriously

Is the reason they have twelve hours of practice a week, but also the reason they score very high

Everyone hates him the second conditioning comes around, constantly yelling at the team (Sirius) to try harder while they’re doing suicides and across the floors at seven in the morning

Rifle prodigy (he cannot stfu about showing off how many rotations he can do)

The overzealous upperclassman that scares off incoming freshmen

Always the one lending money at competitions for food. Also has first aid stuff, electric tape, hand warmers, and just about anything else the team could be in need of packed

Basically Team Mom ™

Mary:

TECHNICALLY co-captain

Her and James are constantly bickering over whether her position is official (“That’s Mary, our FLAG SERGEANT” “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN”)

She’s much more involved in flag, doesn’t like weapon as much

A good teacher, but brutally honest to anyone she sees as not meeting expectations

Resident playlist-maker, and has dominion over the speaker in the back of the bus

Is constantly critiquing the show design and advocating for aesthetic cohesion (“the rifles would look so much better if the bolts were taped blue, just saying”)

Sirius:

Is good at weapon, more so sabre

Doesn’t like flag as much, but always gets stuck on solos on it because he’s talented

Manages to miss his drill dot EVERY FUCKING TIME by just a little bit and it sends James into rage

Never really knows the counts, but always in time

Manages to look good even in the shittiest of costumes

Trauma dumps and tells wildass stories in the back of the bus on the way back from late night comps

Constant guard terminology sexual innuendo (“Remus, I need you to strip- your silk, Remus, mind out of the gutter 🙄”)

Remus:

He doesn’t know how he got here

Meaning he got dragged into it by Sirius and James

(Mostly James)

Is basically being held hostage because of his skill- that being that he’s a lot stronger than he looks, so he’s good at rifle when he actually tries

Always has some dusty ass beat up novel in his competition duffle (me)

Late to practice or gone often because he has so many other academic commitments lmao

Always covered in bruises from getting whacked by equipment

Competitive only when it comes to Sirius. (Sirius can do a one handed forty five?? Remus can do a DOUBLE one handed forty five)

Lily:

Marching band historian during fall season

Runs the guard’s social media pages

Organizes all team parties

A STICKLER for team traditions, and makes sure they’re continued on each year

Pretty well-rounded, but prefers flag

Like Remus, only truly competitive and spiteful when it comes to James

All the freshmen love her because she’s a good teacher, and she has a special talent of talking just about anyone into auditioning

Always mad about the state of disarray in the guard room

Peter:

Like Remus, isn’t sure how he ended up here

Isn’t really that great at anything, but he tries real hard

Plays trumpet or smth during marching season lmao

And somehow ended up in guard by peer pressure and a crippling fear of being left out

Marlene:

Weapon NERD

And honestly all around guard nerd

Is almost as enthusiastic as James

She even did baton for a short period of time for fun

Is one of those people who can just whip rifle around in that effortless way (you know the type of person I’m talking about)

Constantly coming to James with feedback about choreography, and they’re always either getting along very well or at odds

Definitely on her way to DCI

Resident makeup helper (she can do a mean cat eye, even on a highway in a school bus)

Maybe at some point I’ll do the skittles or other various characters lol but for now I’m imagining just the in-universe Gryffindors/marauders as one team haha

[daryascurse]

𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘉𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘔𝘦, 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳

Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Reader

“Open up.”

Your lips part. Nick slides the popsicle into your mouth. Your tongue curls, cradling the sudden cold sensation. Nick’s breath is close enough to feel in warm ghosting over your nose, and the moment is frozen for a moment. He drinks you in the same – eyes wavering with each twitch of your lips around the popsicle, the flare of your nostrils as your breath grows thin.

Nick’s grin splits again, too wide for his face. His fingers tense, and he pushes it to the back of your mouth.

Your breath is choked out of you in a moan, your throat cold and closed. The sweet, sticky juice is already beginning to gloss over your lips, threatening to run down your chin.

“You wanna suck? Choke on it?”

ice cream truck driver!Wolfwood for @bastardblvd slimeball town hall event! 🥰 ɴꜱꜰᴡ | ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ ✧ pov : second person, AFAB reader, nongendered pronouns ("sweetheart" used as an endearment) ✧ tags: modern au, smut, smoking, choking, love bites, oraI (fem. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, creampie ✧ word count: ~4.7k ✧ ao3 link ✧ recommended mood playlist: raspberry cake

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

It had been your first thought – with a wrinkle of your nose shifting the veil of your sunglasses over your eyes; that there’s no way this is sanitary. Maybe the families at the park know it too, with all the laughter and shrieks contained to the playground. You’re the only one on this part of the field. It’s probably because an ice cream truck shouldn’t smell like smoke.

And any smoke coming from a vehicle is bad, but it’s cigarette smoke.

The man inside the ice cream truck rests his elbows on the counter, chewing the end of a cigarette that burns down slowly, bringing the acrid smell of tobacco through the air with it. You slide your sunglasses down as you step into the shade of the truck’s overhang, and squint up at him. “Should you be doing that around food?”

“Quiet,” he says, barely flitting his glazed-over gaze down over you. “You’ll scare away all my customers.”

The smoke drifting away turns blue in the streams of sunlight. The roll of the ground is hard under your feet, the white walls of the ice cream truck blinding and peppered with faded photographs advertising the wares within.

“Anyway,” he says with a slight cough rolling into the first syllable, “most of it’s prepackaged.”

“Most?”

He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, smacks the back of his hand still holding the stub against a paper sign taped to the sliding window. Fresh fruit smoothies! “Strawberries and stuff in the fridge.”

“Then smoking’s definitely not okay. Haven’t you heard of cross-contamination? Don’t they train you on things like that?”

You don’t know why you’re suddenly pretending to be an expert on food safety, but he seems to enjoy it. At the very least, he’s intrigued.

“’S why I’m smoking over here away from the fridge,” he says, just as fast. He flicks the smoldering cigarette butt down by your feet and grins at you. “Who are you to tell me how to do my job, anyway?”

His smile is white, sharp. His dark bangs are forced flat against his forehead under a jaunty white cap that, just like the rest of the uniform, must be one-size-fits-all. The crisp white short-sleeved button-up shirt pinches at his shoulders, falls too boxy below his moving arms as far as you can see. It has a nametag pinned lopsidedly on it, with a square too narrow and handwriting too thick to fit what he had clearly set out to Sharpie in – NICH must suffice. And all in all, it brings a smile to your own face.

The visual scan, the appreciation of his appearance, has somewhat distracted you from the fact that he’s whipped out another cigarette. The hiss of a lighter is sharp. His lips close around it.

“A concerned consumer,” you say. He eyes you, sharp brows furrowed ever so slightly in careful, focused study.

“Well, concerned consumer, what are you consuming? You want a popsicle? Ice cream bar? Sandwich?”

“What do you recommend?”

He exhales white smoke. “For you?”

There’s a soft musicality in the way he asks the question, the two words singing, dancing into each other. For…you? He looks you up and down. You roll your shoulders, straightening your back without thinking. He slides his jaw as he breaks into another smile. The cigarette rolls between his teeth.

“Fuck the smoothies. I’m running a new special,” He says. He suddenly pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, new as it is, and stubs it into the side of the van before tossing it out to land at your feet. “Come round back, if you want something really good.”

He slides the window shut before you can say anything else. A moment later, grunting metal heaves around the corner of the ice cream truck, and the back door unlatches.

“Are you hiding all the good treats back here?” you say, twisting your lips and tracing your finger over the pasted images of ice cream cones on the door as you step up into the truck. There’s a dalmatian print of what you now realize must be other cigarette stubs and burns along the outer handle.

“I have a secret menu for special customers.”

You surreptitiously shut the door, making a decision without consciously thinking of it. When you turn back, he’s looking at your hand on the latch with an amused expression playing across his face.

It’s a small space, made smaller by his frame echoed in every silver, mirrored surface. Even with strewn paper cups and open canisters of whipped cream, it appears cleaner than you would have imagined. He rests broad hands on counters lining either side of the gutted truck, hunched in the narrow aisle between the chrome freezers. He drums his fingers, the sound dull thuds. He’s broad, taller even than the height difference from the window to the grass seemed.

He’s so hot.

He points to his nametag. “Call me Nicholas. Or Nick,” he says.

“What’s on this special, secret menu, Nick?” you ask.

Nick reaches up with a hand, scratches his forehead where the brim of his hat meets skin and bristling, trapped hair. “You like popsicles?”

You raise your eyebrows. “That’s what you called me in for?”

“Well, it’s your choice,” Nick says, and he turns. He heaves open a door, a blast of icy air puffing into the interior. He rummages for a moment, and you watch the flex of muscle moving in his arm, the crosses of veins prominent. “Orange?”

“Sure.”

You take a step closer. It doesn’t take much than a few more to meet him in the small aisle of the van, the tin, patterned floor shaking slightly. The smell of cigarettes is discernable only from the faint motions of his fingers, tense, white half-moons rising under his nails as he concentrates on rooting through the bin.

He closes the door and looks down at you, as you lean back, nestled nearly on the countertop. You watch, first his fingers as he wrests with the squeaky white wrapping, then up to his face – the automatic expression of slight concentration, the relaxing of his features as he succeeds and pops the icy treat free, sliding the wrapper off. He tosses it to the counter behind him; it catches on the air, floats to the ground instead, ignored.

You jerk your chin up. Nick turns the wooden stick in his fingers. You begin to extend your hand for it, but he speaks first, in a voice that comes softer than the banter. Softer, deeper. Dangerous.

“Open up.”

Enticing.

Your lips part. Nick slides the popsicle into your mouth. Your tongue curls, cradling the sudden cold sensation. Nick’s breath is close enough to feel in warm ghosting over your nose, and the moment is frozen for a moment. His fingers curl on the wooden stick. Your eyelids feel heavy as you stare at him. The cracks of smile lines webbing silver under his eyes; the stubborn push of stubble under his chin. He drinks you in the same – eyes wavering with each twitch of your lips around the popsicle, the flare of your nostrils as your breath grows thin.

Nick’s grin splits again, too wide for his face. His fingers tense, and he pushes it to the back of your mouth.

Your breath is choked out of you in a moan, your throat cold and closed. The sweet, sticky juice is already beginning to gloss over your lips, threatening to run down your chin.

“You wanna suck? Choke on it?”

You let out a muffled whimper again.

“Which would you prefer?” Nick asks, and his voice groans. “What’s your choice? You wanna take this little popsicle outside and enjoy the day? Or for me to open you up nice and slow right here on the counter?” He pushes the popsicle on your tongue, rolls it. It gags you and you make that strangled sound again.

Nick pulls it out, leaving your teeth to chatter.

You pause a moment, sucking in air, feeling the sugary tack on your lips. Nick swirls the popsicle, licks away a melting droplet.

So, you think, our first kiss is an indirect one.  

“Say it,” he says with a dare. He takes another step. It brings his knee between yours now, and your throat tightens as you tilt your head up to him. The pulse quickens in your neck.

“Nice and slow?” you say, and your voice cracks into ice. “What if I want it a little rougher?”

“Oh?” Nick asks, and you don’t know where the popsicle goes, you don’t care if he’s thrown it to the ground again, because your eyes are closed and his lips are on yours, dissolving the melting syrup. His hands are on your hips, and your hips are twisting in turn; in the sudden fog of lust, you’re not sure if you’ve boosted yourself on the counter or if he’s lifted you. But he’s on a closer level to you now, your fingernails skating over the stubble of his jaw on your way to throw your hands over his shoulders.

The tart bursts of orange lingering at the inside of your cheeks clashes with the musk of his taste, the earthy tobacco smacking with each kiss. Your knees part wider for his body stepping closer as his tongue slips into your mouth. With your eyes closed, it feels like falling, the oxygen taken straight from your lips to his, your head spinning with the remnant of the smoke, the soft work of his tongue against yours.

“Oh.”

Your thigh muscles tighten and shake. Even in the chill of the truck, something warm begins to settle down through you, and your grasp across Nick is shifting, faster. A hand at his arm before you realized it, the other still pressing through his thick hair to cradle the back of his neck. You’ve knocked that silly cap off, and he grabs at your waist in fervent agreement. As much as Nick holds your tense body into his, you pull him into you, even as the kisses begin to leave your mouth stale and dry with the remnants of smoke.

“I can still taste it,” Nick whispers, his tongue almost licking your still-parted lips with the words laced with nicotine, with orange sugar. He kisses the corner of your mouth and straightens up, pulls away, leaves you breathless as you open your eyes to drink him in again. His hands anchor on the counter, and you swear you can begin to feel it shift backwards with his strength. “But I want to taste something else.”

Nick’s hands move again. The pressure of your clothes, suddenly so palpable, unbearable over eager skin, releases as he unfastens your pants. Your hips roll almost desperately as he slips you nearly bare from the waist down, and the thought comes again as you tremble on the counter with only the thin fabric of your panties keeping you from the cold steel. “This is so unsanitary.”

It’s hard to sound assertive with strong, nimble fingers undressing you, and your sentence breaks into a gasp. Nick raises those thick brows at you as he sinks, barely able to kneel in the narrow aisle as he eases off your shoes, rolls off your pants. “What, are you gonna report me?”

You grin. It’s ruined by the drop of your mouth, the slack of your jaw as your voice keens into another “oh!” as Nick kisses your soft inner thighs, bracing his hands so lightly against your legs as he coaxes slight adjustments of your leg. Saliva cools across your skin, the warmth of his lower lip dragging as his mouth opens wider.

“Ah!”

The bite doesn’t hurt, really, but his teeth run along you lower, closer to the trembling heat below your panties. Nick gives another biting, sucking kiss. His other hand moves up your thigh with a softer touch than his lips.

He reaches the band of your panties and brushes against the fabric. You can feel the turn of his wrist as it allows him a better grab at the cloth, a better touch of your skin below, and you let out a sound closer to a hiss as he spreads his fingers to cup and shape your cunt perfectly through the panties.

“Nick – ”

His name is heavy on your tongue, your skin somehow feeling cool right between his touch, right where the side of his fingers pinch together.

“I like hearing you say my name,” Nick says softly. His breath is hot, closer and closer on your thigh. He rocks his fingers and pushes into you. The nerves sing under your tense muscles. And finally, with another exhale, his mouth sets.

It’s another kiss at first, open-mouthed and heavy over your underpants, but when he moves his tongue over the fabric it’s with a harder urgency. He flattens his tongue, saliva seeping through the cloth to meeting slick and push it back to you. The barrier is so rough, leaving you even more sensitive below it. You moan again when Nick’s tongue retreats, moving higher, harder, up. He flicks right between the groove that’s now so perfectly shaped beneath the damp panties, teasing your clit.

You reach forward, skating your hands through his hair, thick and shining like nylon. His busy hand pinches against you in response. It’s all heavy at your hips, the sensation teasing you just as much as the ministrations of his mouth.

Nick turns closer to the counter, shifting between your spread legs as he pushes his face into you.

“Take them off,” you hear yourself whine. It’s tauntingly warm, each twist of your body and sway of his lips rubbing the fabric on and off your body, settling with teasing whispers in just barely new locations. He shakes his head in a way that may or may not be a response, but brushes his lips over your cunt.

“Said I didn’t want slow,” you say.

“Be a little patient. I can see you so perfectly,” Nick rasps, and his fingers frame you again, pushing the wet fabric back against your body. “What a pretty, plump pussy.”

You push your hips into the counter and curl your fingers against his scalp, at the back of his head. “Nick,” you say again.

A heavy breath, and his fingers slide harder. He peels the elastic away from your skin, away from your already strained and aching thighs. It lifts from you as he forces your panties to the side. It’s so cold in the air for a moment, and then hot when Nick’s tongue forces past to your bare skin.

“Fuck!”

He laps messily over you, letting the jerk of your hands in response guide his head, the direction of his tongue as it twists and flattens. He eats you out sloppily. You jerk, the back of your knees bending hard into the underside of the counter. You’re grinding into Nick’s face without thinking of it, and the moan that escapes him in return is something uninhibited. It’s raw, gasping for breath, full of a desire that should have fallen from your own lips.

Your hips rock up, and his lips break away. Nick’s fingers flatten under the curve of your thigh and reach, a slight cushion drumming the back of your panties as his thumb strokes back up against the gusset. He presses into the wet fabric and teases it over your skin again. He bends and pushes his fingertip carelessly, almost randomly, along the covering of your slit, index finger drumming down around the back of your thigh.

“Oh, please,” you whimper. Your back arches as you try to write into his touch.

Nick’s finger rolls again, flattens, presses harder. You’re throbbing where his fingers touch you, even if it’s just over the coarse fabric that feels rougher and rougher the wetter it gets. The wetter you make it.

“You’re so messy,” Nick says, almost like a quiet observation. The pressure between your legs slips away as he moves. Your legs ache, knees curving instinctively together again as he rises with an involuntary grunt. He looks down on you with gleaming eyes beneath wild brows, and his half-parted lips are wet.

“Even through your panties,” he continues, and he extends his glistening fingers forward. “See?”

Not necessary for him to ask this time. Your mouth is open, you loll your tongue forward. The pressure of his fingers pushes it against her teeth, and you force your tongue up between the V-shape they make to swirl and turn, licking himself clean of you as your eyes roll up to him. Your cheeks hollow with it, the taste not as sweet as the popsicle, but you let your tongue work harder. The way his eyes gleam down at you only spurs you on. You turn your resting foot against his leg to urge him back, closer.

Nick’s thumb turns under your chin in response, and he leans down. Drool slips from the corner of your mouth when he replaces his hand with his lips on yours. You taste yourself even more than the traces on his fingers, entwined with the eternal earthy remnants of smoke. You reach to clumsily press your palms against his stomach. You can feel, almost to your surprise, strong bands of muscle beneath the cheap thin button-up, and you fumble at the buttons to bid the shirt open.

“Not fair if you still have all this on,” you say, breaking the kiss with words and peppers of little, closed-mouth kisses on his cheek, his jaw, blind as your fingers hunt up to his throat. When the shirt hangs open, you trace them down again, tilting your head back with a grin of your own as you feel the warm curve of his pectoral muscles, the softness below his breastbone where air pockets. And when you free the hem from his waistband and feel for the fastening of the dark slacks, Nick moves down to at long last wrap those strong fingers around the band of your panties and pull them from you. You sigh audibly as the damp fabric peels away, letting go of his own clothes for a moment. His bend of limbs knots into your reaching arms as your hips rock away and back to the counter as he undresses you, panties falling to the floor. He keeps a hand on your thigh, pushing your legs open again.

You groan at the muscle stretch, and it catches in your throat. “Nick,” you say again, softly, letting it linger.

His muscles tense beneath the billow of the open shirt as he forces his pants lower with his free hand, finishing your half-started efforts. The zipper clatters at the underside of the counter as he cants in.

The anticipation is trembling practically out of your body. Your shudders and whimpers are almost lost in the hum of the appliances.

“You want rough?” he says, rasping his words.

“Mmhm…god.”

“No,” Nick says, a slight, sudden dryness as his hand flexes, pushes on your leg. Something smoother, thicker, than his fingers, pushes against your inner thigh. His cock curves as he leans closer. “No God here.”

At that, his hips turn. And you writhe as his cock slides into you, so easily spreading and entering your cunt perfectly oiled with saliva and your arousal. You arch, moan a “fuck!” as he leans forward with a strained, satisfied, Cheshire-cat smile, and goes deeper.

He’s big, so big you can feel your body almost go numb, inner muscles beating at the intrusion – and then softening to make space for him. He sucks in a breath, as if he’s feeling the same shaking tightness.

You groan and curve your hips, the best attempt to roll up and meet him just as he pulls out, and then so deep back in that your mouth falls open with the next moaning breath. You reach forward, tugging plaintively at his shirt, grasping at the fabric to pull him close.

“Oh, oh, please – ”

No banter, no witty talk, nothing but pleading for him with your open body. He pushes, and your hand finds his side, wrapping halfway to his back. Your fingers bend, and he groans as your nails drag down the side of his ribs.

The pressure, the heat that his tongue was building in you rises again, and you jerk your hips pathetically forward. It doesn’t do much to interrupt the build of his pace, but it presses your skin close to his, the warm layer of sweat beginning to rise between your limbs. And the energy that rolls in your veins, shit, it has to go somewhere. You strain to pull him close to you, to bring his mouth down to yours again, but his body is stone, and his determined grip is hard.

You whine, letting your hands dance up again just to drag backdown with raking nails.

“Fuck,” Nick groans, and the guttural, raw tone, sends more through you.

His hand is off your thigh, the press so hard you almost expect a large, palm-shaped bruise to rise in its place. And the push is at your clit, his thumb rubbing busy circles that almost make you sob when you look down, hazy vision fixing on the thick expanse of his fingers working you over as his cock forces you open and swollen.

“Ah!”

Your hand still knotted in his shirt rises to your lips, your tongue lapping over your fingers, the curve of your thumb, and you reach an awkward hand down over spread thighs to surround him. You rub, at the inch of cock that can’t quite fit inside you at this angle, circle down to stroke with soft fingertips at his balls.

“Oh, oh,” Nick says in desperation. “Fuck.”

The words are broken, and you barely can lift your eyes up and away in time for his mouth to meet yours again. His lips are soft, fat, hungry, and you whine into his throat as he fucks you harder, harder.

It’s a brief kiss, because he breaks his head away to rest on your shoulder. His body cages over you, and you move your hands again, both scooped under the open shirt to grab at his back with frantic fingers. His hair has fallen forward, rubbing sweaty, rough, in strands at your neck.

“Oh, Nick – right there,” you say, feeling your voice shake higher and higher. Your instinct is to lean back, fuck your hips higher, but instead you pull him closer and try to curve into him. “Please – don’t stop – ”

“No?”

“No, no, touch me, fuck me, please  - ”

He tosses his head back and his throat muscles are tight, jaw pulsing, as he straightens up over you again. “What makes you think I’ll stop, sweetheart?”

He pulls his tormenting hand away and spits on it. You almost scream when it comes back, sliding faster over your suddenly even more sensitive clit, sore and puffy as he makes you bloom like a rose with split folds.

“You have to cum first.”

And you rock on the counter, the freezers groaning with the bumping shift of the van’s movements. Something clatters down as appliances, spoons, napkins, fall. It doesn’t matter if the ice cream melts around you. What matters is the way your muscles jump, the way friction is burning below your skin, moving faster and faster.

“Oh, oh!”

You close your eyes and cling to him. The force of his grunts with each pump vibrates through his chest. Your thighs are arched high, feet desperately pushing at the back of his legs, not quite high enough to cross and not quite enough strength in you to hook around him tighter. But your hands are hard on his back, his shoulder blades flat between the spread of your fingers.

Nick’s hunched over you. He lifts his hand, pulling it away and leaving you beating, shivering, practically gushing with the pumps of his cock. He cups the side of your face as your eyes roll open, gaze to the ceiling as you writhe.

“Does the roof make you cum?” he asks in jagged breath.

“N-no,” you say automatically.

“Is it god? Who’s fucking you?”

“God, no. You – you.”

He jerks your chin to him. His eyes are fixed, brows sharp, lips pulled back and teeth wet in a half-grin. “Then don’t look up; look at me, look at me, when I make you cum.”

It’s the words that are your undoing, the way they spit harsh from his mouth. The harshness is without cruelty, but with a vigor that’s echoed in the kiss when you lean forward to meet him in wanton agreement.

“Nick,” you breathe into his mouth, and bite his lower lip as you withdraw. “Make me cum – please, make me cum.”

“Wanna cum with you, sweetheart,” Nick says in that grating groan as he moves his hand back to rub in furious circles.

You tense your thighs and feel for it, squirming against the countertop as that friction beats harder. It’s something burning beneath your core, even as he splits you, again, and again, in frantic heat. When his hand stills, you can tell – you can tell in his body, in the focus right at his hips as they begin to buck into you harder, in the sucking of his breath, that he’s as close as you are.

“Nick – I’m gonna – ”

“Oh,” he groans, his words crashing into yours, and you pulse as he lets go. You bury your face in his shoulder and stuff your mouth full of shirt to muffle the scream. With each throb of his cock as he cums in you, it urges the shivers of your miniscule muscles wild. You cum without announcement, almost to your own surprise, and Nick’s hands anchor at the small of your back. He practically sings his moans in your ear as you cum on his cock, his rhythm slowing as yours tenses and stutters.

Somehow, the counter stops rocking.

The silence is cut by two lungs raggedly gasping, the hum of the freezers, the groans of the truck. Far off in the distance, the people in the park keep playing and laughing.

“Fuck,” you say, low, and you find your voice shaking.

“’S right,” Nick says.

He pulls out of you, and you whimper in your throat at the slide, at the warmth, at the ache across your legs.

Bam, bam, bam.

You physically startle, heart leaping into your throat, hands automatically flying to your lap as Nick’s seed beats out of you. Someone’s at the front part of the ice cream truck, knocking on the window. A shadowed hand appears at the glass as they try to look inside past the paper taped on the window.

“Hey,” calls a young man’s voice. “Anyone in here? You guys open?”

“Just a second,” Nick shouts back. He grins down at you as he hoists his pants back up. “Just a customer. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” you hiss quietly.

“Can’t see you from here.”

“Nick, you’re not actually going to serve –”

“Kitchen’s down,” he suddenly yells, interrupting you. “Only got the pre-packaged stuff.”

“That’s alright,” they shout in return.

Nick wipes his forehead, pushing back sweat-slicked hair. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

You suck your teeth and raise your eyebrows, trying to suppress a smile.

“Hold tight,” he says, buttoning his shirt. “Let me find my hat, sell an ice cream sandwich, and I’ll be right back.”

You can’t hide it when he kisses your cheek, hands busy as he rises to his collar. “Not gonna jump out the window and escape?”

“You think I’d fit through that?” Nick raises those thick brows. “I’m not trying to get anywhere. Not without your name and number first.” He reaches down, fumbles on the floor of the van and comes up with his cap.

You edge slowly off the counter, pins and needles aching in your thighs. He’s already crammed his hat on his head and’s turned, moving towards the window.

“Hey, hey,” you say, whispering as quietly as you can. “Do you – Nick, do you see my panties?”

At first, you think you haven’t gotten his attention. But when he hauls the window open, giving that cheeky grin to the spiky blonde-haired man you can barely see standing below with a “what can I get for you?” – you can see the wet, crumpled fabric winking at you from his back pocket.

fin

[battydora]

"YEAH, WE ARE A LITTLE CLICHE!"

masterlist | rules

pairing: kyojuro rengoku, reader

content: sfw, college au, modern au, gn reader, friends to lovers, too tooth rooting fluff to my taste, kyo is a blushing and awkward mess, soft shit overall i love him so much, barely proof read!!

note: MAN THIS TOOK FOREVER. it's finally done. this is my first kyojuro fic in a long time omg i missed writing for him i'm so happy!!! also this is for @renhoeku 's kyojuro's birthday collab, i'm so excited because this is the very first collab i join to as a fic writer too!!! thanks for letting me join, this is so niche and cliche but i'm still a sucker for cliche tropes, i can't help myself, i hope you enjoy it! ♡

music inspo: this playlist ♡

wc: 3.4k

you are running late to your second class that day because you got distracted with your friends from other courses. a few books you borrowed from the library are being held by your hands about to fall thanks to your turbulent running.

would it really be that cliche and dumb to crash into someone midway? yes, and you are right, you just crashed into someone unexpectedly, all your books are now spread across the hallway and you're on the floor. you make your best to quickly sit down to apologize to the person you just basically slammed into, who seems to be a boy around your age you are sure you never seen before. what is up with his hair?

“oh my god, i am so sorry! are you okay?!” your voice filled with concern when you se the stranger on the floor rubbing his head in ache, who turns his gaze to you at your question.

“yes, i am fine! you shall not worry! are you alright?” his voice is loud and cheerful, luckily he isn't showing any signs of injury or such so you sigh relieved.

“yes! yes, i'm fine, god this is so embarassing and cliche” you sigh again now collecting your books, seeing how the boy was doing the same with his stuff. he finishes quickly so he is able to lend you a hand and he hands you a few of your notes.

“there you go” he says with a bright smile, now that you had a chance to look at him upclose, you find yourself staring at a charming face that sends you vibes of a person with a bright personality, kinda blessing if you are honest, his red eyes as shiny as his curious looking yellow and red hair, you zone out for a few seconds staring at the stranger before you snap back when he speaks to you.

“thank you, and i'm so sorry again!” you bend down in order to apologize to him.

“do not worry, i am not in pain! you seemed in a rush so it is totally alright, you can head to your class”

"yes, i'm already running late, so bye! thank you!" you say in a charismatic tone, you finally got up and start running again, leaving the kind stranger behind.

you got to class very late. you tried to catch up with your classmates but they were very ahead of you, you try to cheer yourself up by thinking the class was going to be short anyways and that coffee break was just around the corner. once the class is over, you start to head to a cafe near the campus, but before you can leave the building, you see the same kind stranger leaving his classroom. you lock gazes with eachother and he smiles at you when he sees you walking in his direction.

"ah, it's you!" he begins, an innocent enthusiasm captured his loud voice "did you make it to class?" he asks with an amused tone, yet sounding nice, no harm in his words. you chuckle out a sigh and smile in disbelief, your head lowers a bit.

"yes but i arrived quite late, all my classmates were already ahead of me" you sound dissapointed, wanting to forget about the misfortunate act.

"i see, that's a shame to hear" his smile fades just for a few seconds, pitting you a bit "where are you heading now?" he asks out of pure curiousity.

"oh, i'm going to the cafe nearby to have a coffee before going to my next class, i hope i'm not late this time" at your words the stranger chuckles out a loud laugh.

"i'm sure you won't, i was about to go to the cafe aswell. would you like to grab some coffee with me?" he asks looking at you, his smile flashing on his face again, it is almost as if his smile had a radiance of its own.

you can't deny his invitation, you liked this stranger, he seemed like a nice guy, everything about his vibes feel comforting and pleasant. why not?

"sure, let's go!"

in the way to the cafe, you exchange a few personal data, you get to know his name is kyojuro rengoku, he is a third year of his career like you and he is in an opposite class of yours. your schedules rarely alinged so it was almost impossible for you to see him around, however he was there today because he was taking extra classes for his upcoming exam next week, he also said he finds morning shift much more comfortable than the afternoon one so he is considering changing shifts. he is an interesting and nice guy, very cheerful and respectful in his manners, once at the cafe he asks you a few questions about yourself too, so you start to talk on and on about yourselves, exchanging thoughts and interests, slowly developing a friendly bond. he is very humoristic too, making little jokes and comments in order to make you laugh, some people around side eye at you both a small judgamental face at how loud you were laughing but it doesn't seem to bother any of you.

never was a coffee break this entretaining.

after 15 minutes you start heading back to classes alongside kyojuro, with a bright smile on your face, this dude is amazing! he made you completely forget about the mishap you went though earlier, his company is bright and lighthearted, you want to get to know him better if you are honest.

six months pass by and you and kyojuro developed a lovely friendship, you got to know him better as you proposed yourself too and he ended up being twice as interesting than you imagined, he was rising his younger brother on his own, his father was abscent but still made sure to pay for everything their sons needed, you feel pitty for him for having such a dick dad but he tells you to not pay him any attention, kyojuro is more than fine with the way he lives. he is overly optimistic but realistic at the same time, he knows his father is not the best dad but he still chooses to smile and hold his head high doing the best he can for his brother, this attitude of his makes your days lighter and this often makes you feel encouraged you to work hard or try new things you normally would've need a lot of courage to do. now that kyojuro changed shifts, you two use to go to the campus yard and sit on the grass to study or just talk, often letting your conversations continue until sunset, the lovely seasonal sunlight always witnessing your friendship's growth. other times you meet at any of your homes to study for upcoming exams, he is a great studying partner! you share some snacks and drinks during those study sessions and laugh a lot. this turned into a habit overtime.

you met a few people along the way, kyojuro introduced you to his friend group and now you spend plenty of time with them, everyone is so nice and fun to be around, this guy tengen is one extroverted and entretaining person, however the group (including yourself) tease him about him claiming to be the most flamoyant looking but then having a disastrous sense of fashion, he dresses well, yes, but his accessory choices are an absolute mess. you tease him often saying a headband full of glitter and plastic gems is an horrendous choice even if he says otherwise. then this girl shinobu, she is one of the quietest of the group but whenever she speaks you always engage in an interesting and thoughtful conversation, she is very smart and you get to exchange interesting and weird facts, conversations with her tend to be very fruitful (and she always has some gossip or embarassing stories of the other group members, she is truly so entretaining to be around too). there is this other guy, giyuu, who is the quiet introverted after shinobu, who sticks around his extroverted friends and always signs up to the chaotic ideas the three loudest members come up with, he is a man of few words but his group understand him perfectly without needing to speak to him. you try to talk to him, but it's just that it's difficult to draw his attention and have long chats with him if your interests don't align, however you made your way to his heart when you told him your favourite bands and they ended up being the same bands giyuu was into you so you always find time to talk about your favourite songs and their meanings, after that you got to know him a little better, turning out to be an interesting guy.and then finally is this girl, kanroji, who is kyojuro's childhood best friend, they met in kindergartden and since then they're inseparable, she knows kyojuro from head to toes; she is a very lovely girl, always full of compliments for everyone and is nice, even to strangers. she is sweet around you too and since you're kyojuro's friend, she whispers embarassing facts about younger rengoku for you to laugh and his only reaction is to laugh awkwardly at the weird kid he was in highschool, blushing out of embarassment, which only made you feel closer to him, everytime you got to know something new about him, you found yourself feeling more captivated by his sparkling personality, he is indeed a wonderful person.

you grew close to this group and spent a lot of time together after class, some weekends you went out for beer and spent so many amazing nights together, but there was some things you weren't quite aware of until the first five months you spent together, such as how kanroji and uzui teased kyojuro more than they usually did, specially when you were around. it was overall suspicious to you because it looked like the flamboyant boy and the lovely girl were up to something but you had no clues of what it could be. kyojuro's face would turn red at their statements and start telling them to cut it off. you asked shinobu what was up with those three and she would just laugh softly and answer "those are just uzui and mitsuri's antics, don't pay them any attention" but she knew quite well something was going on around rengoku for them to act the way they did and she did not want to tell you.

you didn't pay much attention to it at the moment because finals are now around the corner and you have to strive on passing, so your studying sessions with kyojuro took place at least three times a week, both you two were a bit stressed, there was a lot of content you had to study for both of your careers so you barely had time to spend doing anything else than studying. you are now at your place, you agreed with kyojuro to go to your house to study after class, it is around 6 PM now and you two are sitting at the living room table, notes and folders spread all over it and the floor. silence is all over the room, both of you two focused on your books, which is common in your studying sessions, you work better working in silence yet together in a way.

after like three hours, you sigh out of tiredness and throw yourself back, laying flat on the ground, a grunt of disbelief leaves your mouth as you frown completely exhausted. kyojuro just looks at you, raising his eyebrows at your motion.

"too much?" he asks in a calm tone, despite him being just as tired as you, he even shows small signs of having baggy eyes.

"yeah, i hate this career" you say, jokingly but yes, you are tired, he lets out a giggle.

"how about a break?" he suggests, putting his pen down and closing his notebook for a minute.

"that sounds great" you agree sitting back down, now looking at your phone cheking the time "oh my god, it's already 9 PM. don't you have to be home to senjuro?" you ask in concern, his little brother was left alone.

"oh, no don't worry, he is at a friend's house, he is staying over until tomorrow. however i should be heading back not too late because the street may turn dangerous if i walk too late" he says standing up, you copy his action.

"i don't have a problem with you staying over, though. if it gets too late you can sleep here" you offer.

"really?" he seems surprised, a sparkle of excitement shining in his eyes.

"yeah! we can prepare a nice meal and continue to study until we go to sleep" your smile widens as you speak, the idea of having an improvised pijama party with kyojuro.

"yes, i would love that!" his eyes seem to sparkle with joy at the proposal, you both start walking to the kitchen and open the fridge to check what you had.

"well, i went to the market the other day so i have plenty of things to prepare. how does udon sound for you?" you ask with a gentle smile.

"sounds great! let's do it"

and just like that, you two start preparing dinner. you put some music to make the cooking much more entretaining, you nor kyojuro can help but sing outloud, even dance, to your favourite songs, using kitchen utensils as microphones. the preparing overall is easy but what really made it entretaining and different from any other meal you ever prepared, is that you are doing it with good company, people say food tastes better when sharing it with someone and kyojuro is the living proof of the saying.

you cut the vegetables as he waits for the water to start boiling to finally cook the noodles, however, he walks behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, checking on what you are doing, this isn't weird at all sometimes he would just do that affectionately.

"hi" you say in a sweet tone and a cute smile.

"hi" he answers with a wide smile on his face too, looking adorable as ever.

you go silent only for a few seconds until your body almost jumps for feeling kyojuro's hand making its way to the hand you are holding the knife with and lay it on the kitchen table as the other lands subtly on your waist, its a subtle motion but it is enough to make your face turn slightly red, wandering what he is thinking about now... not until he just starts tickling you making you to burst out laughing loudly, his fingers tickle all around your waist and armpits and laughs the moment you start fighting to stop him.

"k-kyojuro, s-stop! i'm al-almost peeing!" you protest between laughs, struggling to get some air in your lungs and trying to tickle him back, the attempt is useless because he's got you wrapped around his finger and all you can do is try to kneel down, as an attempt to escape from his grip, he follows as he continues laughing and sits on the ground wrapping your waist with his arm as the other continues to tickle you.

the laughter gets louder suddenly and in your last efforts to free yourself before giving up, you forcefully turn around to face him, a bit too clumsily, because this makes kyojuro fall back on his back, with you on top of him.

the blonde notices quickly the position you both ended up in and suddenly stops the tickling, giving you the chance to recover some air, you realize only a few seconds later the awkward situation you are left in the moment you look at kyojuro's face, his eyes are wide open, an awkward smile formed on his lips and a deep red blush covering the width and long of his face. your face turns inmediately red as you stare down at him, his hands resting again on your waist subtly, unsure of what he should do now. is this weird? is he being weird? no, why would he? it was just an accident, so why is he so nervous? what he should do? your wide open eyes are locked to his and now he is unsure if he should look away or not. the awkward silence goes on for a long time, you gulp and your heart is pounding, how did this happen all suddenly?

kyojuro meditates for a long while, is this a wrong time to make a move? he has been having mixed feelings about you, you two are amazing friends but he can't help but feel totally love-struck around you, you're so wonderful and smart... what if you don't like him back? what if he ruins the beautiful friendship you two have? he can't risk it... he doesn't want to push you away from his life.

but your body so close to his, your face looking his way, you can almost feel his heart jumping out of his chest... he just can't.

he bets everything to this very moment. his lips make a very small movement, as if he is trying to twist them into a kissing manner, noticeable to your eyes. your world falls apart when you see his head shyly trying to lean closer to you and your reaction is to blush even harder, everything is moving too fast, moments ago you were cooking and laughing and now you're suddenly on top of kyojuro on the floor, him trying to kiss you know, does that mean he likes you? or is it physical attraction only? how would this impact in your friendship? are you overthinking? you probably are. there are so many questions and so little time to answer each, he is already so close to your lips, his eyes are almost shut down entirely so you take a small breathe, choosing to relax and give in to the moment. your eyes close slowly, your head also leans in carefully and the distance between you two breaks, giving your friend a soft smooch on his lips.

it's sweet and gentle, shy one might say. not too long nor short, it's just enough for you two to implode out of happyness, kyojuro pulls away first out of nerves, he wants to see your face, he wants to know what are your thoughts in this very moment, he seems more nervous than you are. you two remain silent for a few instants before he speaks again.

"w-was that okay?" his face fails to go back to normal, it's still as red as before. you snort out a small giggle.

"it was sweet, i liked it" you smile warmly at him.

"gosh i'm so glad" he sighs in relief, throwing his head back for a second, trying to recover his composture, he was so scared he might mess up what you two had "i was mortified at the thought of... you know, scaring you away or seen as a weirdo by you"

you raise your brows and decide to finally move, you sit on the ground and grab kyojuro's hands to help him sit back down again, now getting the chance to talk normally.

"i don't think you would ever scare me away. perhaps, it was just a kiss" you pause only for a second "and i like you, how would a kiss be a reason to push me away"

"i... guess you are right" he laughs at his own thought, the nerves got the best of him, you are an amazing person, a kiss can't ruin everything "still, there is something i need to tell you..."

your face turns slightly pink at his words, your imagination wandering like crazy, is he really...? "yeah? what is it?" you try to stay calm, a small smile on your face, ready for his upcoming words. kyojuro seems a bit nervous again, he takes a deep breathe before talking again, his cheeks turning red once again.

"tengen will lose a bet to kanroji if i confess to you now, and i want him to lose." his statement is amusing, it makes you laugh, what is going to happen next is so obvious, his smile turns into a wide, warm and sincere one "there are feelings i want to confess to you right now, please listen to me"

thanks for reading!

[chocotonez]

skz love languages: acts of service

a/n: I have so many ideas yet none exist in my head,,that’s not meant to be poetic it just means I struggled with some of these

genre/warnings: I don’t think there’s any, gn reader (should be, pls tell me if there’s anything implying otherwise!!), swearing, guys I promise I know my grammar I just like casual language for my hcs

chan

-okay these will be short and sweet because I have so many thoughts

-folds your clothes along with his, or washes your laundry with his

-remembers your schedule so he can remind you of important events

-gives you tips if you ever go to the gym together and shares his water with you

-blows on hot food before he gives it to you

-takes photos of things he remembered you talking about when he’s at the store and asks if you want it

-holds your hands in his when it’s cold and rubs them to warm them up!!

-brings you water/snacks if you’re studying/working with little notes on them saying ur doing a good job <3

-brings extra tissues or lip balm or hand sanitizer just in case you need it

minho

-okay this is kinda niche but like clearing out your phone tabs or compter tabs and scolding you if you have a messy layout or smth like that

-texts reminders to you regularly, drink water, eat, take meds, clean your desk when you get home…

-sends you cute gifs to cheer you up

-always checks in with your feelings in his own way “hey u big baby, are you okay? do you need anything?”

-pretends to laugh at the videos you send him because even tho they’re usually kinda lame it’s from you and that makes him smile but he’ll never admit that </3

-organizes any mess you left behind, puts your dishes away or puts your shoes away and then makes fun of u for being “messy”

-wipes away food you got on your face

-begrudgingly lets you have more blanket when you sleep/cuddle together because he doesn’t want to see u cold or uncomfortable :(

-takes your glasses/jewelry off if you fell asleep with them on

changbin

-opens jars/wrappers/bags for you

-lifts you into his shoulders at festivals

-because it’s October here’s a lil Halloween inclusion of him holding your hands at haunted houses and yelling at the scare actors for you <3 (also because it’s his way of coping lol)

-turns lights off/closes doors if you forget

-if you’re in the bathroom before bed he fluffs up your pillows so ur all comfy and cozy

-reads messages you got out loud if you’re preoccupied with something else, or alerts you if something seems important

-tells you stupid bedtime stories to help you go back to sleep if you had a nightmare

-begins to buy larger umbrellas so you both can stay dry together

-if you wear makeup he wants to help you by either by blending it or just straight applying it and giggling like a kid because “it’s fun”

hyunjin

-brushes your hair and styles it

-this might be also niche but holding onto your shoulders while you walk rather than your hand because it feels more secure?? also because he feels like he can bring you closer to him

-I never really write idol s/os but the idea of him looking over to you during an awards show to periodically make sure ur okay makes me melt

-feeds you and then pinches ur cheeks while laughing

-usually lets you choose the movie/show you want to watch, same with places to eat (unless you don’t know what to pick, then he’ll help you figure it out)

-runs you weekly bubble baths for you two to relax in

-holds/opens doors for you

-always wants you to relax, back rubs or nights off and doing face masks together

-he applies ur face masks for you :)

han

-he’s more of a receiver than a giver for this love language, his is mostly mixed with gift gifting

-making you playlists or untitled songs or coded titles so only you can find them on his Spotify :)

-he adjusts ur clothes, I feel like he’s the type of boyfriend to pick lint off of u without being promoted

-he’s a bit messy so he’ll tend to throw things into your drawer so it at least has the appearance of looking neat, he’ll help u organize if that’s what u want tho!! U just need to ask <3

-always checks in on you unprompted tho, makes sure you’re doing well at any hour of the day and whines

-he either spam texts u or shows up at your house with no warning to check up on you

-stands up for u but subtlety (English is not my first language it took me like seven tries to get that right pmg)

-BUT as I was saying, if you want to go to a restaurant but ur too shy to say it in front of the ppl ur hanging out with, he’ll be like “I WANNA GO TO ____” until they relent <3

felix

-kills bugs for you

-teaches you how to bake and if he’s alone, he’ll bake extra treats for you (his fave thing to bake u r cupcakes !! )

-helps you build furniture and never teases u if you don’t get something <333

-if you play online games together he’ll try to always watch your back and fight off enemies for you

-or if you prefer taking the offensive, he’ll simply cheer you on :))

-sends flowers to your workplace/leaves them on your kitchen counter

-stargazes with you or plans out meaningful dates where he treats you

-makes you playlists

-sings you lullabies if you can’t sleep or just wanna hear him

-stays up after you to make sure you went to bed okay

seungmin

-plugs in your phone for you before bed

-he always listens to your advice or at least takes it into heavy consideration, makes sure you feel heard

-asks if his jokes ever go too far

-“excuse me, they asked for no pickles”

-alway thanks you for acts of services that you do for him, leaves sweet texts or letters expressing his gratitude

-weirdly sweet remarks about how you’re so pretty it’s annoying or “who gave you permission to look so good tonight?”

-covers your eyes during scary parts of movies

-unless asked, he always lets you sleep in on weekends but never fails to be a human alarm clock if your digital one isn’t working

-wakes up before you 99% of the time so he can at least start a cup of coffee/breakfast for you

-pesters you into taking care of yourself (laying on top of you until you brush your teeth, tickling you until you relent to drinking water…)

jeongin

-never breaks pinky promises, and always tells you in advance if there’s a schedule conflict so you don’t have to wait

-if he pays you back for anything he adds a little message “thanks for lunch, love you so much”

-tries new things for you because he trusts you, and encourages you to step out of your comfort zone as well

-asks if you’d like anything before he goes to the grocery store, and always remembers it

-thanks you randomly for being such a good partner or if you did something nice in the past few days

-always gives you a comfortable space to express yourself in, lets you talk and never interrupts you

-makes sure you stay uninterrupted as well, glares down anyone who speaks over u lolol

-makes a special handshake between the two of you

-very playful acts of services but they r still acts of services <3

[martsonmars]

Fic writers self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have already done it). Spread the self love ❤

Omg I hoped I'd get this ask, and the timing is perfect because I get to be sappy! Thank you. (Note: as always I drafted this post immediately and then let it die in my drafts 🤣)

Picking only five was really hard (and in fact I'm cheating). But I tried to focus on complete stories, because I am obsessed with stories yet to be finished but it doesn't make much sense to rec them. It was also difficult to separate the fics that I want to rec from the fic that I felt like I should mention because they're more popular or more liked, but I think I managed it.

5. I Know What You Are [T, 17k]

This fic is the first fic that made me feel like I had done it. Like I had written the kind of story I'd always wanted to since starting to write fanfiction in this fandom — a getting together fic that wasn't a short one shot but felt complete and well developed and satisfying. I also loved world building it, and sharing the behind the scenes content, and I am looking forward to, one day, writing another story set in this universe. I'm just really proud of it, and of the role it played in my journey as a writer.

4. The Dragon, the Sword, and the Knight [T, 3.3k]

This story holds a special spot in my heart. I love the format — I love that there's a story within the story, I love the fairytale vibes and I'm hoping to turn the fairytale into a short story one day, maybe a picture book. I also love it for the creative energy that surrounds it and that makes it a perfect example of why I love this fandom: it was inspired by art by @letraspal, who then made art for this fic; @sillyunicorn wrote a song about it and @jbrrring made art for the song. It feels so good to be part of something that involves so many creative lovely people.

3. sapore di sale, sapore di mare [T, 13k]

This is my first fic, and it deserves a spot here. Before Any Way The Wind Blows, I never thought I'd write canon compliant or established relationship. They're still not my favourite kind of fic, I strongly prefer getting togethers and AUs/canon divergences, but back then I was so sure I had nothing to say. And then AWTWB came out and I had SO MUCH to say. This fic is about food and about love and about the connection between food and love which is extremely important to me.

2. unfair [M, 9k]

I love this fic because it's different and because it's unique. It was a challenge to write something not only different from my usual Snowbaz but also different from many things I've written. I had a very specific vibe in mind and a very specific style to maintain and it worked out pretty well, but it wasn't easy. For the same reason I have to give a honourable mention to The Vampire and the Boy in the Tower, I worked a lot on the vibe and the style and I'm incredibly proud of it. unfair is an exploration of womanhood and motherhood that I managed to pull off better than I thought, and I'm glad I followed my heart to write something so niche.

1. Anti-seduction [T, 25k]

I don't know if this is my favourite fic I've written, but I've been thinking about it a lot recently. I love AUs so much, and this was so easy and fun to write. I loved the alternate timelines and the emails and the fun and the pining and the silly playlists I included. And this is the fic I wrote while I was falling in love, which made the experience different from any other fics I've written. Writing romance hits differently when you have someone to think about, and I really felt it with this fic (and with Coup de Coeur, later, too). I should write more just to feel it again. 💙.

[jungleindierock]

Rebjukebox 2024 - No. 4

Playlist number 4 of new bands, new artists, with a couple of well known bands thrown in. But all the music is brand new 2024!!! 40 tunes shared here and on my Spotify account. Soz have been a bit busy of late, and got a bit behind with these. No.5 should be out in a couple of days!!

It’s mixed genres of music from many different countries. Makes no difference, where the tracks appear in the playlist, they are all good. I feel 40 is good number of tracks not too long or too short in listening time for your enjoyment. The whole playlist is only two hours and fifteen minutes long.

If your a solo singer or a member of a band, then follow me on my Soundcloud page here, if i like your stuff, i will follow you back, if i don’t follow back then sorry but your not my thing. Whatever style of music is fine, i like many stlyes and will take a listen. You should always trust your own ears with music.

Enjoy & share, hopefully you will discover some great new bands from taking a listen!!

Ok the links for the playlist:- Soundcloud - Spotify

Stay Free Reb

Tracklist

1- Pythies - Eclipse 2- DIIV - Brown Paper Bag 3- Kasabian - Call 4- Lime garden - Pop Star 5- L'objectif - Lilly Of The Valley 6- Slaughter Beach, Dog - I'm In Love 7- Pentire - Don't Let Your Love (let You Down) 8- Jessica Pratt - Life Is 9- Roast Apple - Tied Up 10- Brixton Alley - Young Dreamers 11- Comforts - Lost Your Lover 12- Phantom Parts - Honest Man 13- killkiyosi - Skin Grafts 14- Bess Atwell - Release myself 15- late night drive home - Felling Grey 16- Holly Humberside - Dive 17- Dilemmas - Walkaway 18- Shambolics - Universal Credit 19- april june - Baby's Out Of Luck Again 20- L.S. Dunes - How Dare You 21- Agent Blå - Rain To You 22- Screaming Females - My Dead Wife 23- Wallows - Your Apartment 24- English Teacher - R&B 25- nudista - Waiting Line 26- Marnie Stern -Sixteen 27- Lucy Rose - Whatever You Want 28- Bears In Trees - Hot Chocolate 29- The Courettes - Shake! 30- Wynona Bleach - Swim In the Bay 31- Oceanic - Cry 32- Niches - Supernatural 33- Athena Lim - Being Someone 34- The Ghost Club - It's Your Call 35- April Skies - Don't Let Me Go 36- The Rosadocs - Stand Alone 37- Charlie Lane - Gold drips 38- French Exit - Still 39- Girl and Girl - Hello 40- POLLY - Project 46

[moonstruckme]

im sooo late to this sorry ive been so busy with college but big big congrats on 5k!!!!! ur fics bring me so much joy so thank you 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

make popsicles - send a character + scenario/mood and I'll make a short playlist

this might be really niche but songs youd sing to remus or play in your apartment/place after he comes home from a full moon and he cant sleep and youre trying to calm him down

No need for sorries my love, thank you and I hope your assignments are going okay! Def some repeats in here but oh well if the shoe fits

nothing's gonna hurt you baby - cigarettes after sex between the bars - elliott smith gospel - the national corduroy dreams - rex orange county tapestry - bruno major sweet creature - harry styles in a week - hozier to the mountains - lizzy mcalpine pretty boy - the neighborhood savior complex - pheobe bridgers like real people do - hozier

[professor-of-predators]

Idk if you take requests, but if yes: does thou have any Loui hc’s? Or NY if not? 👁️👁️ /nf

Oh hello

I can indeed take requests, though I haven't in some time. Luckily for you I have headcanons for both of these delightful beings!

Let's go alphabetically and start with Louisiana :)

The most normal name of the states, and therefor the one who receives the most mail. He spells his 'name' Louis, of course, because that is how the person he was 'named' for spelled it. It's still pronounced Loui don't fret.

A lover of Odd Museums. Like dinosaurs are very cool, and history is very Important, but Niche Museums are his joy.

Because of the state's reputation for magic and similar practices, most people assume Louis knows magic. So they tell him about their local magic or cryptic or the traditions immigrants brought along with them, or even just interesting myths or folklore they found on the internet. Now don't get him wrong, Louis is 100% capable of some magic, but he isn't really as into it as the stereotype would have you believe. Luckily(?) He likes the conversation too much to stop people most of the time.

Louisiana loves big gatherings. Louisiana loves showing people his state. Louisiana is constantly inviting states outside of his region to parties/meals/events/hang out. The South thinks this is very weird and constantly tries to dissuade him from the habit. Louisiana does not stop.

Now let's see what we have for The World's Grumpiest Bodega Cat, New York

He is alarmingly short for his population and area. He's just slightly below average human height, maybe 5'9", but he *feels* bigger. If asked him about it, he'd say it's because you're looking at him from the wrong angle before punching you to the ground.

He has a deep love of hiking, nature walks, and bird watching. It is not unusual to find New York on a path or trail, just soaking in fresh air, listening to a different sort of background noise.

THE most ecclectic music taste in the house. His Playlists are entirely unpredictable and totally random to anyone but him. Good news is he's great at making a playlist for abstract vibes. He and California make tons of them.

He is the author of so many petitions to give the Jets to New Jersey. So very many. He's also first in line for destroying MetLife stadium.

[thelunadiviner]

i was tagged by @renegadeem DAYS ago (sowwy for how late this is!) so... it is time!

"9 people you want to get to know better"

3 ships:

valenwind--i mean... come on LOL this one has been with me since i was 11 or 12 (over a decade now!). extremely foundational and, even when i wasn't actively into FF7, has been on my mind ever since i played the game years ago. something something red and blue gays, something something dark hair and blonde hair, something something short and tall. they just fulfill so many good "tropes" and also god i just like these characters SO much its unbelievable. i cannot wait for (what i hope is) the sheer amount of screenshots and screen records of the third part of FF7:R when they are PLAYABLE. the party banter... oh lord...

VKaz--ok... so i am actually a massive Metal Gear Solid fan. i got into it around-ish the same time as i got into FF7 and wow did it change my brain chemistry. there are a few MGS ships that are bone deep in me, but VKaz does something else to me. its blinding. its visceral. its like... wow. it doesn't help that Kaz is probably my favorite character in the game and Venom is sooooo. yeah. cute... idk! but i could probably talk about these guys for literally hours. and it would be incomprehensible. ik this is my squeenix blog but if anyone ever wants to talk MGS with me...

tie (sorry LOL) between akusai and stakhemy--those are so so so different but whatever LOL. akusai is also ages old, one of my first ships. i actually used to be much more into xemsai but akusai has taken the reins. KH is also a decade+ interest of mine (my late childhood/early teen trifecta was KH, FF7, and MGS) so i have so much to say... also i think i am in love with Saix lowkey. now, stakhemy is a new one and much more niche (any Pathologic fans?). i made one of the best character/ship spotify playlists ever for those guys. whenever i think of Rubin i become a little ill. i just find them so fascinating (Patho is super interesting on its own anyways).

first ship: whoooo boy. probably Link/Sheik? LoZ was like. my first ever THING i got into. i used to play pretend in my yard wearing a green tunic and a green santa hat i cut the puff off of to live out my Twilight Princess Link dreams. if not Link/Sheik, then probably xemsai.

last song: Respite On The Spitalfields by Ghost (on a massive Ghost kick because of a friend, its all ive been listening to... my favorite by them is Twenties and/or I Believe)

last TV show: i just watched the 5th episode of Interview with the Vampire this morning with a bestie, but the last show i finished was True Detective season 1 (for the 2nd time... i'm obsessed.. i have a sideblog...)

currently reading: i have been trying to finish Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman for over a year atp but 1. i am a slow ass reader, 2. i started it over already, 3. something sad happened so i got discouraged, 4. im so busy and am trying to learn to get better about reading (ADHD moment)

currently eating: nothing atm but i did have a creme brulee cream puff from one of my fav bakeries (shouldn't have spent the money but my name change court hearing was a success so i celebrated <3)

currently craving: im always craving something i love food LOL honestly the first thing that came into my head was a smoothie... but i also love all Asian cuisine and there's this amazing place nearby that has a bomb Pad See-Ew

thank you sm for tagging me!! i cannot think of anyone really to tag atm so i'll probably come back and do that later when i'm less busy.

[belovedcorvidarchive2024]

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈'𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑!

alias / name:  Rabbit / Rory, or Ro for short

pronouns: he / him

birthday: 15 December

zodiac sign:  Sagittarius

height:   5'7"

hobbies:  Scale miniature + Gunpla, fibrecraft - really I just have nervous hands and need to be making something or else I start breaking something. I also collect curios and oddities - with a preference for glass and antique medical equipment. I have a fairly big prosthetic eye collection. 👁

favorite color: all of them, preferably all together

favorite book: I reread Watership Down every year, it's my comfort story and I fall in love with it all over again even though I looked at it exhaustively during my thesis. Otherwise I'm mostly a biography and nonfiction boy - Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach is fun if you like that sort of thing.

last song:   ' Ask for Nothing ' - Lemon Demon on my Cora Playlist :x

last film / show:   This series where an Anthropologist takes apart a Netflix series

recent reads:  The Radium Girls by Kate Moore, All Bleeding Stops: Life and Death in the Trauma Unit by Stephen M. Cohn, MD

inspiration:  Beyond the source material, lots of random things rattling around in my day to day remind me of Cora and feed into my writing: trauma visible and invisible, how an overwhelming sense of guilt shapes a person, silence as a protective behaviour, nifty spycraft things, loving others with your whole heart, how an anxious dog looks like an aggressive dog

story behind url: Cora's an overgrown bird a character that is so deeply loved by those whose lives he affected, even though he never lived to know the effects his actions had. Likewise, coming back to write him after even a short break feels like the warmest, safest hug.

fun fact about me: Not working in academia any more, but some of my work is floating around out there published in really niche books.

Tagged By: @gumpistol; @mingos

Tagging: @onepiecc, @sleeplesswork, @sarcasticmercy, and @ you! Steal from me and tag me so I can read! Not sure who's done this one already. OTL

[rynnaaurelius]

I'd really love the sci fi reading list, if it's not too difficult! Thank you for your explanation

Yes! Okay, requisite this is Not Authoritative Or Comprehensive claim, I'm a dork with a Russian degree, but here we go:

(I tried to organize this chronologically because if I did it thematically we would be here all day. Also, I still have more books, but they get increasingly niche. This is a Greatest Hits playlist, and if you look these people up, you will find their contemporaries)

(Long list below the Read More)

Jules Verne — 80,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Journey to the Center of the Earth. Excellent continuations of that exploration/'ostracized' genius figure, so popular in the previous century. French, so English translations. Kinda marks the transition point between 19th c. pure spec exploration and what we would call sci-fi. BUT BEFORE HIM...

Mary Shelley — Frankenstein is probably the first sci-fi novel as we know it. BUT BEFORE HER...

Margaret Cavendish — Okay, the 'first sci-fi novel' is hard to define for obvious reasons, but The Blazing World has as good a claim as any. Published in the 17th c., so it really traverses the genres, but includes a utopian kingdom accessible via the North Pole. Her husband was so impressed that he composed a sonnet for her, which serves as the epigraph for the novel; it's a wild read in the same way Robinson Crusoe and other early novels are, and I'm mostly including it here because it's so, so wild to read in 2023.

John W. Campbell — That dude. The hero's journey guy. His short story Who Goes There? Has been adapted a million times into a little movie called The Thing. Unfortunately got really into race science, so Isaac Asimov told him to fuck off. Edited the magazine Astounding Science Fiction, which in 1939 published Black Destroyer by Alfred Van Vogt, usually cited as the beginning of Golden Age sci-fi.

H. G. Wells — Big critic of class divisions in Victorian English society, coined the term 'time machine' as we think of it in his novel...The Time Machine. A lot of what we consider 'classic' time travel tropes were, if not invented here, had their seeds planted here. Also famous for War of the Worlds, leading to a MINOR disturbance when Orson Welles did a dramatic radio reading.

Edgar Rice Burroughs — the man, the myth, the legend. If I could persuade you to read one white English sci-fi author with rather dubious politics, it would be him, if only because of how influential he was. Mostly famous for Tarzan, but he also wrote a whole series about Hollow Earth that crosses over with Tarzan at some point (Pellucidar), as well as the series Barsoom (A Princess of Mars and its sequels), and Amtor (Guy named Carson Napier gets transported to Venus, which was a watery hellscape, as was popularly theorized for a while).

They're basically pulp comics before pulp comics, published in magazines, extremely lurid and dramatic, and he did write his own crossovers. These were what the first modern superhero comics writers often grew up reading and what inspired them—John Carter's cultural cachet was borrowed by Superman until it became his cultural cachet.

They're very fun, but also supremely products of their time, and extremely fond of the British Empire.

Judith Merrill — prolific writer and editor, who also wrote one of my personal favorite reactions to the atomic bomb in Shadow on the Hearth.

Gabriel García Márquez — we're gonna take half a sidestep into magical realism here (which is, to define quickly, a genre incorporating the fantastic into otherwise realistic narratives, often formed and associated with decolonial and post colonial Latin American fiction, but not always. It's a fuzzy genre). He wrote in Spanish, but I read him in English. One Hundred Years of Solitude is probably one of the great novels ever written. My mother is also telling me to rec Love in the Time of Cholera and she wrote about the man, so listen to her.

Jorge Amado — the sixties were the big magical realism heyday. Amado was Brazilian and his Dona Flor and her Two Husbands is a book my Spanish high school teacher made me swear to read some day.

Andre Alice Norton — Deserves a spot for being one of the most prolific sci-fi authors of all time during a time when sci-fi was INCREDIBLY inhospitable to women. Over 300 books!

Robert Heinlein — This man is the poster child for "male author who writes groundbreaking sci-fi novels but cannot be normal about women with a gun to his head". The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress is excellent and incredibly important for how comprehensive the creation of Luna and its workers was, even if it is very sixties free love. Also wrote Starship Troopers, the novel.

Edward Smith — you haven't seen drama until you read what they said when Lensman (first book is Triplanetary) lost to Foundation for the Hugo in the sixties.

Larry Niven — Fleet of Worlds! Ringworld won a whole host of awards and deservedly so in 1970. Fair warning, his stuff decidedly falls under "hard" sci-fi (lots and lots of discussion for plausible alien artifacts), though it is awesome just in terms of how he can communicate scale. If you see a big ring-like structure in space, you can thank this guy, basically (the term ringworld comes from here). Also did a bunch of co-writing. I haven't read his other stuff, but CoDominium is on my list (he co-wrote it. First book is The Mote in God's Eye). If you liked the TV show The Expanse when it did the alien stuff and the later books it never got to adapt, you'll love this guy.

Samuel R. Delaney — Dhalgren is a book I am forbidding you to research before reading. Go in prepared. You have been warned. You will either love this book or set it on fire.

Stanislaw Lem — Solaris. I started this novel last week after watching the Tarkovsky film and. It's doing something to my brain, that's for sure. It's a book where I have to read every sentence twice. If you read it, find a good translation if you don't speak Polish. The author famously is very mad at critics who use Freudian analysis for it, so tread carefully (it's about the limits of rationality and our ability to understand, so. Fair).

Joanna Russ — The Female Man is a seminal work of feminist sci-fi. It's—fascinating, to be honest. Discusses socially enforced dependence of women on men and the creation of a different gender, a "female man", when the protagonist chooses to reject it and thus her socially enforced gender. I wouldn't call it a transgender manifesto (written in 1975, features insufficiently masculine men undergoing sex change surgery, so...yeah) but it definitely awoke something in my brain when I was 16 lol. I would LOVE to see it revisited in literary criticism from a modern perspective, especially from trans people.

C.J. Cherryh — If we talked about female sci-fi authors from the 1950s-70s writing under gender ambiguous aliases, we would be here all day, so I'm picking the one whose books I got for cheap at a book sale. Her Foreigner series has such a good premise with descendants of a lost Earth ship and interstellar court drama, and it's SO fun.

Poul Anderson — the name is not a typo, do not look up Paul Anderson, you will never find him. I actually have a copy of Three Swords and Three Lions currently collecting dust on my shelf and judging me right now as I wait to read it. Tau Zero is one of the greatest things I've ever read. The time dilation stuff gets kinda dense at times, but he incorporates some interest in his Swedish history and folk tales into it, and his explanation of travel at the speed of light and incorporating that into his discussion of nationalism is incredible. The ending where they survived [REDACTED] and landed on what may have been [REDACTED] has been bouncing around my brain for a bit now.

Laura Esquivel — Like Water for Chocolate is from the magical realism reading list.

Salman Rushdie — Midnight's Children is one of those bucket list books, for better or worse. Recontextualized Indian independence from the British and the Partition through framing of a husband telling the story to his wife, as he actively tells the story to her. Really uses the fantastical versus the real w/history versus truth so well.

Nancy Farmer — The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm, for the kids lying about their age on Tumblr dot hell. Three kids try to escape a kidnapping after sneaking out—in 23rd century Zimbabwe. With the help of three mutant detectives. It rules.

Ben Okri — Okay, I have not read his stuff yet, but it is on my list. Other people here have discussed his influence on them in post colonial sci-fi. His big one is The Famished Road, first in a trilogy, and renowned for its discussion of the spiritual and realist world coexisting in African animist spiritual life.

Nnedi Okorafor — I have read one of her short stories, Remote Control, and currently have an book list with her other stuff on it. Other people I know vouched for her work. She specifically writes Africanfuturism and Africanjujuism centered around her Nigerian background, and follows on from the likes of Okri and Octavia Butler. I'd also add if you're a Stephen King fan when he's in Dark Tower mode, she's probably gonna have things that appeal to you.

Mentions that are absolutely influential but don't need explaining on this website: Franz Kafka, Ursula K Le Guin, Douglas Adams, N. K. Jemisin, Ray Bradbury, Arthur C Clarke, Isaac Asimov, Frank Herbert, Alduous Huxley, Philip K. Dick, Orson Scott Card, Kurt Vonnegut, George Orwell, Octavia Butler, Neil Gaiman, Toni Morrison.

(to be clear: you SHOULD read them, but you probably know who most of them are and/or why they're big deals. Most of them are also incredibly prolific, and explaining their bodies of work are other posts. Trying to make a list about other folks)

For more on Afrofuturism,(not to be confused with Africanfuturism), I recommend the shit out of Afrofuturism: The World of Black Sci-Fi and Fantasy Culture, full of short stories and guides to art and music. I, alas, lack similarly useful authoritative guides to other genres, but I have read that one, so wanna toss it out there. There's so much.