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flowerandblood · 2 months

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The Lost Haven (9/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex scene with Alys from the past, smut, the angst, description of a drug overdose, murder by shot in the head, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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After everything that had happened, according to his suspicions, all hell broke loose: Daemon's anger over the fact that they had dared to kidnap and imprison his daughter was great. Helaena, Daeron and his mother stayed in the house almost all the time under the supervision of their bodyguards, so that the unpleasant consequences of what was happening would not reach them.

Daemon's gangsters tried to forcibly take over what was rightfully theirs: brothels, clubs, restaurants, however, they were met with resistance, as they had no intention of moving from their place and giving them anything.

The comical thing was that, although the law was on his side, Daemon could not use the help of the police: their discovery of how widespread the money laundering and drug smuggling was would have given them all life imprisonment, and the premises would have been seized by the State for as long as the prosecution considered it good for the case.

For the first time in years there were real shootings and on several occasions, had it not been for his reflexes, a bullet would have pierced his arm or leg when he was just walking to the car park or leaving the club.

Despite what common sense would dictate, he didn't feel terrified: on the contrary, some part of him wanted a challenge, a release, anything that would make him stop thinking about what he had done to her.

He couldn't forgive himself for showing her weakness, for crying in her presence like a small child, for begging her forgiveness only to find after a while that he missed her, that he had suffered through their separation and the fact that he had lost her.

One part of him wanted to forget her but the other ached to prove to her that in some fucked up way he could change.

To become a different kind of monster, one that wouldn't devour her, but protect her.

He planned what he wanted to do with meticulous care, as if he were going off to war. He knew that Larys Strong was preoccupied with what was going on, thinking they were focused on Daemon, he meanwhile was lavelling between them, trying to pick up customers from both sides.

He was like a disgusting snake whose head he wanted to trample on, but mostly because he dared to threaten her.

He wanted to make sure that this piece of shit would disappear from the face of the earth.

He initiated the only person in his industry he trusted, namely Alys, into his plan.

"Why?" She asked, smoking a cigarette with him by the wide-open window in her flat, sitting in her smart black shirt and trousers, her luscious green irises staring at him anxiously, letting out a mouthful of smoke.

He took a drag, looking blankly out of the window, at the townhouse across the street, seeing her face then as she lay numb in the toilet, and then as she lay in his bed, after he gave her the sleeping drug himself.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, feeling an unpleasant constriction in his chest indicating that he was remorseful.

"He was the one who gave my niece the rape pill." He sighed, tilting his head back, spreading himself more comfortably in the chair with a loud creak of wood.

Alys stared at him in silence for a long time, her cigarette slowly burning out between her fingers.

"I met her. Your niece. A few weeks ago in the Red Sun pub." She hummed, taking another drag, not taking her eyes off him.

He knew she had noticed that something flashed across his face at the mention of her – involuntarily he turned his head away and swallowed hard, clenching his free hand into a fist.

Alys chuckled under her breath, blowing smoke out of her mouth straight at him as she spoke her next words.

"Daemon showed her what you did to Robert."

He stared ahead, fiddling with the packet of cigarettes lying on the table in front of him, feeling his heart in his throat.

So that's how she found out, he thought with regret.

"How did she react?" He asked involuntarily.

"The poor girl was in shock. Her uncle turned out to be less understanding than she might have thought." She muttered, leaning forward, resting her body weight on her elbows.

He couldn't look at her, afraid she would see what he so desperately wanted to hide from her.

"Was that her name that you accidentally blurted out then?" She asked, making him feel an unpleasant squeeze in his throat and a burning wetness under his eyelids.

The prove that she was right.

The nights with Alys had been simple: they'd taken care of business and then fucked. They knew they were both broken: what they were doing had warped and deformed them as individuals, and by giving each other intimacy they were simultaneously comforting each other in their misery.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, tilting his head back, his hands clenched in her hair so tightly that he heard her hiss from between his thighs. Her nails dug warningly into his hip, signalling him not to overdo it.

He couldn't believe how good she was at sucking cock, with what ease her tongue rolled around it's delicate, pink head while clamping her lips so that she squeezed it with each of his thrusts deep into her warm throat.

He was aroused by her directness, by the fact that she only wanted to satisfy and be satisfied, exactly as he did.

"– stop – 'm close –" He exhaled as he felt his erection begin to throb vigorously and twitch deep inside her mouth, causing her to let him out with a loud, perverted click of her saliva.

His manhood was all red and pulsing, glistening from his precum and her wetness, pleasant warmth in his belly.

Alys wasted no time in pulling her black lace panties off her legs, allowing him to turn her onto her stomach as usual. He positioned himself between her thighs, spreading her soft, full buttocks like a fruit, sinking into her warmth with a loud sigh of relief.

Only then, when he couldn't see her face, he was able to close his eyes and sink into his most sickening, dark fantasy.

As he slid slowly into her, in his imagination he could see the terrified, hot look in her eyes, her sweet lips wide open, her soft, fleshy cunt clenched around his swollen erection, throbbing with longing, making him run out of breath, her hands simultaneously pushing him away and holding him close.

"– Aemond – no, no, we can't – we can't –" His niece mewled in his mind, whimpering softly and innocently, afraid that someone would hear them, that her brothers would find out what he was doing to her, how greedily he was opening her slick walls on his fat cock again and again, unable to stop.

"– oh baby –" He mumbled.

He heard another sound too, a lower one – Alys moaned feeling him involuntarily quicken his pace, thrusting deep between her leaking, convulsing folds. Frustrated, he clamped his hand in her hair, pressing her face harder against the duvet, not wanting to hear her now.

He had never kissed Alys or any other woman. When they tried to do this, he felt only disgust and turned his head away – the act seemed to him too tender, too intimate, and on top of that, it reminded him of her, the taste of her lips, her warm breath on his face, her sweet scent.

For this reason, too, he never stayed up all night or went to sleep with the women he fucked: their arms, their embrace was not the one he longed for, their words, their skin, their fingers, their faces, their hair, everything was different, different, different, foreign, distant, repulsive.

Alys knew.

She felt it subconsciously.

"– are you thinking about her now? – " She breathed out, making him involuntarily bite his lower lip and groan throatily, his hips began to slam against her ass faster and faster, bringing him closer with each thrust to fulfilment deep inside her.

She didn't know her identity, but she knew she existed and that he wasn't able to forget about her.

"– would you like her to be so fucking wet for you? – to take you in so easily? – for her little pussy to clench around your cock? – to come inside her? –" She exhaled, and he groaned, imagining that she wanted it, that she craved his cum deep inside her pretty, innocent body, slamming between his niece's thighs like a mad.

"– u-uncle – uncle, uncle, uncle, oh God, oh my fucking God, please –" He heard her vulnerable whines, feeling a squeeze in his testicles, hot wave of pleasure ran through his lower abdomen and stomach.

"– f-fuck, Rhaenys –" He mumbled and came with a loud gasp, feeling her spasming cunt begin to clench against his twitching erection, along with him going through the wonderful relief that shook his body.

He froze, panting loudly and opened his eyes only to see that Alys was grinning wildly.

She was proud of herself.

She loved to torment him.

"– Rhaenys –" She said after him, intrigued, without shadow of regret or pain on her face. "– what a pretty name –"

"– 'm sorry – forget about it –" He mouthed, completely panicked, sliding out of her with a loud click of their moisture, feeling his heart pounding like a mad in fear.

He thanked God that it wasn't her real name.

"– why? – tell me more about her – it's touching in some way that you are so deeply in love with her –" She hummed, turning onto her back.

He quickly zipped up his trousers, for some reason unable to look at her bare body now, furious at her remark.

"Fuck no." He growled.

Alys twisted in her place, surprised.

"Aemond."

"I don't want to talk about it. That's not why I came here." He said in frustration, grabbing his Tshirt, putting it aggressively over his head.

She sighed heavily, leaning her back against the bed frame, looking at him intently.

"You are adorable when you are mad."

He looked at her, seeing in her eyes that she knew she'd hit the nail on the head and ran his hand over his face.

"Have you fulfilled your fantasies with her? Then, during your father's birthday. After all, he invited your whole family." She sneered, cocking her head.

He shuddered, looking at her shocked and horrified, feeling like a little boy caught in the act.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you don't want to help me with what I came to you with, just say so." He hissed too quickly, too angrily and too helplessly, and the corner of Alys' mouth twitched in a grin.

"Did you stop talking to her when her mother married Daemon through a conflict of interest or because you knew that as an uncle you shouldn't moan your niece's name during your climax?" She asked, and he felt his lips part in a shuddering, uneven breath.

"You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted."

Her cold, mocking words stayed with him all night: she didn't give him a clear answer as to whether she would help him, but she let him know that she didn't intend to interrupt him.

She had no love for Larys Strong and would benefit from his disappearance herself.

Although the plan was different, more complicated and sublime, he drove straight to Heavenly Beach.

You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted.

When it was all over, he decided that his success had been determined by the effect of the surprise: when he walked into Larys's office, he greeted him with a smile, standing up, apparently wanting to offer him something to drink and ask what he was coming to him with.

The bodyguard didn't even think to take his gun away from him.

He was just his grandfather's faithful dog, nothing more.

And yet, when he pointed it at his head and simply fired, shooting him right in the forehead, Larys seemed surprised and staggered backwards, falling numbly like a heavy wooden puppet to the floor.

He fled through the back exit, the door by which the bar staff were leaving for a cigarette, and although he hoped that one of the shots he heard behind him among the screams would reach him, it did not.

Apart from the shattered rear window of the car and the wrath of his grandfather, no other consequences of his act reached him.

"Do you know what you did? Larys was filling our pockets with money."

"And also emptied them." He hissed, watching as Otto paced around the room while he sat in his chair, pleased with himself as never before.

For some reason he felt a sense of pride.

"You are a fool. You did it out of a private desire for revenge. You acted rashly and thoughtlessly. You have failed me for the last time." He said in a manner from which he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Aegon will take over the whole business, not you."

When he finally returned to his flat he felt rage and relief, disappointment and euphoria at the same time, feeling like he had completely lost his mind.

Vhagar watched him from across the room, seeing him throw things off tables and cupboards, afraid to approach him, her tail tucked under her belly.

He had killed him for her.

He sacrificed himself for her.

He lost his inheritance for her.

And she was not with him.

He felt in that moment that he loved her and hated her at the same time.

The dreams in which he killed Larys again and again came back to him every night, making him wake up drenched in cold sweat: he saw in them how he gouged out his eyes, how he cut off his limbs before her eyes, listening to her screams and her cries, her pleas for him to stop.

By having his grandfather reduce his role to the bare minimum of collecting money and handing over goods, he could finally concentrate on his studies during the day. To his surprise, sinking into the thick textbooks she had brought him was liberating, as if a new, previously unknown part of the world had opened up to him.

He was going to attend the exam.

He hoped to see her there.

He filed the documents in person and, as he was leaving the University, he spotted one of Daemon's bodyguards smoking a cigarette in the car park from a distance.

They had been watching her the whole time.

Good, he thought.

He knew that if anyone saw him there Daemon would take her out immediately and that was why he had to be more careful.

On the day of the exam, he felt like a small child: even though he knew what he had to prepare for and had gone through specific chapters many times, standing with a group of young people peering at his face and scar he felt alien, even though he hoped it would be different.

Even when he tried, he couldn't fit in, blend in with the crowd.

To his surprise, he found the exam itself trivial: too simple for his taste. He recognised that he had surely made some mistake when reading the questions, that there was something tricky about them, that he would make a fool of himself.

However, reading what he had written again and again he thought he had given the correct answers and just gave up, walking out of the room, dismayed and disappointed.

He felt like he had been pierced by lightning when he saw her standing in the corridor, looking at him with her mouth wide open. He felt a pleasant heat in his chest at the thought that she had come, for him, just for him, and then he looked to the side and saw who was standing next to her.

His hands clenched into a fist as her ex-boyfriend reached out to him, fumbling some sort of goof about how nice it was to meet him, pretending to be open and welcoming.

His niece saw immediately the danger that lurked behind his furious expression.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked him in a trembling voice.

He thought she had only taken him with her for safety, as she was afraid to come to him alone, and affectionately concluded that she was a wise girl.

"Are you sure?" Her ex asked her, making him feel his jaw clench in rage.

"Didn't you hear what she said?" He sneered harshly, throwing him a look full of boredom and disapproval, wanting to show him that he was losing patience.

He had done his part and there was certainly nothing more between them, so he could fuck off.

Robb clearly didn't like the tone of his voice.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." He said in a way he didn't like, but all it took was a movement in his direction for his niece to stand in front of him, looking straight into his face with her big eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

"That's enough." She said. "Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?"

He swallowed hard, looking away with his heart beating fast, feeling the hot shame spread across his lower abdomen.

He won't hurt me.

When Robb finally left them alone she shook her head with an expression on her face as if she regretted coming to see him at all and turned, startling him by going the other way.

"It was a mistake."

"– no – no, wait –" He moved behind her, immediately grabbing her arm, pulling her closer, as close as possible, smelling her body and her hair again, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs.

He let his hand embraced her waist, pressing his forehead into her temple, wanting to take refuge in her, feeling thirsty for her presence, her words, her warm gaze full of understanding.

"– are you two together again? –" He whispered involuntarily, wanting to be sure that this bastard was no longer a threat to her, that he didn't have to worry about him hurting her again.

He swallowed hard when he heard her cold laughter full of frustration, feeling a stinging discomfort in his stomach.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She asked drily.

Why did she avoid answering?

Why did she speak in this way?

"– do you love him? –" He muttered, and she shook her head, furious, trying to push him away.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, but he clamped his hands on her back and snuggled her body into his, sinking his nose into her wonderfully soft, warm cheek, feeling how his erection reacted with an aggressive, joyful pulsing to her closeness.

How was he ever going to let anyone else have her?

How would he ever get over it?

There was no way back now.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered and felt her stop resisting him, her whole body frozen in stillness.

He sighed quietly, leaning in, his lips swollen with desire as he began to place wet, hot, lingering kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck with every word he spoke.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –"

He felt her hands tighten on the material of his shirt as a quiet cry left her lips, and he, feeling an involuntary desire to protect her from this suffering, cuddled her face into his neck, wanting to hide her, to bury her deep within himself, to be her stone fortress in which she could hide.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered in a way from which he froze.

There was no satisfaction or relief in her words.

She was sad.

This revelation, the thought that some part of her wanted this child as much as he did, caused his full lips to place a tender, drawn-out kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –"

We just have to try again.

He couldn't believe how easy it had been for him to say that, to accept that he was sick, that he had just told his own niece that they should fuck again, because that way they would perhaps have the baby they so wanted.

His life had reached such a level of absurdity that it no longer seemed impossible to him.

He heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked by what had left his mouth.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mouthed, choking on her own tears, however, instead of pushing him away she snuggled into him tighter, clasping her hands on his back.

She sought her comfort in him, in her tormentor, because he was the only one who understood what she was going through.

There was something simultaneously beautiful and tragic about this, he thought.

He had destroyed her.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back as if she were a small child, pressing his face against her temple, wanting to show her that he was there for her and that this would never change.

His words written on a piece of paper then, in the hospital.

I will always watch over you.

They both flinched and moved away from each other when her phone began to ring and it appeared that her father's bodyguard who had been waiting for her had begun to grow impatient.

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She muttered with difficulty, terrified, making him feel like locking her in his embrace and never letting her go.

She was so sad, so tired, so vulnerable.

He knew, he felt, that they would both experience true relief, true rest only in each other's arms, in the tight union of their hot, sweaty, naked bodies.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said, leaving him alone, not bestowing a single glance on him.

And then her ex-boyfriend humiliated her in front other students, saying some bullshit about her lack of self-respect as he watched them from afar.

As soon as she was out of his sight he walked up to him – Robb looked at him horrified and took a step back, wanting to run away.

"I feel like smashing your skull for what you dared to say, but I won't do it for her sake. You will never speak to her that way again. What's more, you won't speak to her at all, or I'll make your face no longer beautiful. Do you understand?" He asked, and Robb nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes.

"One ill-considered word from you. One look from her colleagues that I don't like and that reveals to me that you told someone about it, and your life will become very, very difficult. Mate." He sneered and sidestepped him, heading for his car, seeing that his niece and her father's bodyguard had driven off.

When he got back to his flat he thought he felt strangely calm: the thought that she had come to see him, that she still cared about what would happen to him, who he would be filled him with contentment and satisfaction.

He was not indifferent to her.

She could not hate him.

Vhagar, though uneasy in his presence for days, that evening approached him of her own accord wagging her tail. Though he did not usually do so, he allowed her to jump onto his bed, his broad hand stroking her large head. She licked his fingers, sniffing them beforehand with curiosity and he thought with a smile that she had smelt her scent.

"I saw her today, Vhagar. I saw my little girl." He hummed, scratching her behind the ear, letting her big furry body lie beside him on the bedding.

And then she called to him, furious and indignant, demanding an explanation.

Something about the way she spoke made him think she was charming when she was angry, surprising him with her directness.

However, this made him the one who wrote to her every day from then on, sending her pictures of Vhagar, and although she did not write back to him, he was happy.

He knew that she read his messages and thus he was able to convey his feelings to her, making her realise that there was not a moment that he did not think or miss her.

And then he found an envelope in his letter box with the University's logo on it, and for the first time in years he felt an almost childlike excitement as he ran up the stairs to his flat, thinking that maybe things were finally going to change in his life.

He felt his hands all trembling with emotion as he pulled a piece of paper from the inside and began to read, his heart in his throat when it became clear that his dream had come true.

He had passed.

He got into University.

He didn't know why he called her right away, walking back and forth across his room, smiling like a fool because he had made it, made it, made it.

"Aemond, you can't call me. Is something wrong?"

"I got in. I passed the exam." He said immediately, feeling euphoria, feeling joy, feeling satisfaction.

He wanted to experience it only with her, because only she could understand him, only her words, her appreciation, her joy could give him what he wanted.

"I'm proud of you. I really am." She confessed finally making him feel like bursting into tears, feeling for a moment he ran out of words, his heart pounding like crazy.

"Let's meet to celebrate. Please."

"No."

"Just for a moment. In a public place, in a restaurant, in a café. Wherever you want, wherever you feel safe." He begged, needing her now, her warm gaze, her hand clasped over his, her closeness, her, her, her.

"I can't, Aemond. You know I can't. I will always support you, including about your studies, but after what has happened I can't trust you." She confessed in a trembling voice.

He swallowed hard, feeling with shame that he had turned all red with emotion, and nodded his head, thinking with despair that he understood what she meant, feeling empty.

"– forgive me – I had no right to ask you to do this – it was a mistake resulting from my selfishness – thank you for everything –" He said.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled out in pain, but he hung up, or she would have heard his uneven, heavy breath, the effect of the tears that ran down his face and of which he was so ashamed.

How could he have been so naive to think that she would forgive him?

Would he forgive her if she did the same to him?

He tore up the card the University had sent him, thinking with regret that the sight of him in that building every day would bring back memories she wanted to forget.

He decided that there was no point in her seeing him, that he should respect her request, even though she did not at all want him to give up his dreams for her.

She was more understanding than he deserved.

Although he had never, ever done so, that evening he pulled out from his cupboard a syringe with the drug liquid he had given her that day when she had come to him at his request, wanting to help him.

He only used this narcotic in small amounts when he needed to fall asleep quickly, but this time he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up at all.

He squeezed his forearm with a special rubber band to make it easier to find the right vein under his skin and jabbed the needle into it, letting more of the drug into his system than ever before.

He thought he wanted to know how she felt then.

He imagined her terror, the one when, feeling him still deep inside her, she realised that he had tricked her, betrayed her, that he would do what he wanted with her and her body.

He felt like crying when everything around him blurred, when Vhagar began to bark, nudging him with her wet nose, licking his face. He, however, was only able to breathe, thinking that he was so monstrously tired, his body numb and heavy, as if it weighed hundreds of tons.

It seemed to him that it might have been months or even years before his mind began to awaken: the indistinct light of the lamps around him blinded him and irritated him at the same time, the loud beeping at his ear drove him mad, the stinging discomfort in his wrist seemed unnatural to him. He muttered in displeasure, twisting around, unable to fully open his eyes or rise, feeling dulled and frazzled.

"– no – lie down –" He heard his mother's voice, who had apparently risen from her chair, her familiar hand touching his arm. "– it's okay –"

"– what's going on? –" He choked out, feeling unpleasant anxiety and discomfort, everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"– you overdosed, Aemond –"

He spent the next few days in hospital, trying to recover under the watchful care of his mother and his sister.

He didn't know why he felt disappointment at the news that neither his grandfather nor his older brother planned to visit him, thinking he had acted like a small child merely seeking attention, why he thought they would care about his condition.

He didn't think much of it though, because as soon as he unlocked his phone, he saw three messages from her.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do, what to reply to her words, proof that she still cared about him, even though he didn't deserve it.

That same evening, when his mother was long gone from his side, she called him, making him feel euphoric and terrified at the same time. When he answered and put the phone to his ear he was silent, his heart deep in his throat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, her voice full of uncertainty.

He swallowed hard, feeling somehow touched by her behaviour, by the fact that she wanted to talk to him despite what he had done to her.

"Exactly as I deserve." He confessed with shame.

"Did you… really want to do this?" She muttered in a trembling voice. He shook his head and laughed under his breath.

"No. I wanted to see how you felt that day."

Something in his words, in the way he said them made her draw in a loud breath.

"Your suffering is not my desire, Aemond. You hurt me, but I don't want revenge. I just want… to stop feeling this unbearable pain in my heart that I have felt in my chest for eight years."

So many unspoken words and feelings slipped through their fingers.

"I regret it so much. I told my grandfather that I didn't want him to involve you, but he said that if we didn't, someone else would want to take advantage of Daemon's weakness for you. And I believed him. I thought that Larys will actually try to do something to you again, but only now do I understand that it was a simple lie that I easily accepted to justify myself. Fuck, I'm so ashamed, baby, I really am."

He mouthed with difficulty, burying his face in his hand, feeling warm tears of shame run down his cheeks, trying to calm his heavy, ragged breath.

"My father took everything from me. I did these fucked-up things to other people for nothing. I mutilated them for nothing. The only thing he left me is the property by the sea, the same one where I lost my eye, as if he had made a mockery of me. I was so lost. I still am."

She was silent for a moment, as if wondering what to respond to his words.

"What do you want, Aemond? Truly. Be honest."

He swallowed hard, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of his life and he couldn't fuck it up.

"I want to study and see you once in a while. In a public place, so that you feel safe."

"And that's it? What about your family? About your business?"

"My grandfather limited my influence and responsibilities after I shot Larys without his knowledge. He no longer trusts me and doesn't assign me important tasks."

She fell silent again, making him feel like he was going mad with the uncertainty, his heart in his throat.

"The University Library." She said finally, and he grunted quietly, trying to calm himself down.

"I don't understand."

"We can meet in the University Library."

"Really?" He asked hopefully, feeling his heart beat harder, hot with excitement.

"Only there and for a short time. Once in a while. If I find out you did something to hurt me or my family, you'll never see me again."

The next day she agreed with him that they would meet in a side area of the library: it was nearing the holidays and most people were either outside or in the main reading room, so she decided that no one should notice or bother them there.

Fifteen minutes in which she was going to help him prepare for his first class, nothing more.

Nevertheless, in his mind it was his chance to prove himself and get things right.

To regain her trust.

He wanted to buy her a bouquet of flowers, however, standing in front of them he had no idea which ones to choose.

What if she doesn't like cut flowers, only ones in a pot?

Should he even hand it to her in the library?

He ran his hand over his face thinking that his deliberations were idiotic and only showed how desperate he was.

Then, however, he decided that instead of a flower he would buy her a strawberry lollipop: since she used strawberry gloss she must have liked the taste and could at least eat it, and he could hide it in the pocket of his trousers.

With this little gift, he turned up at the agreed time, feeling like an excited little boy, all hot and frisky with emotion. Indeed, he spotted her in the back of one of the rooms, sitting on the floor on special large pillows, leaning against the wall with a volume in her hand, bookcases all around her.

She had chosen a place where they would not be seen.

She flinched at the sight of him, her shoulders raised in a defensive gesture, as if frightened by his presence.

"Hi." He mouthed, not knowing what more he could say, his heart pounding like mad.

She blinked and sighed loudly, as if trying to calm herself, her gaze at once warm and watchful.

"Hi."

He walked slowly over to her and pulled off his jacket, laying it on the windowsill, sitting down next to her on one of the cushions, into which he literally sank because of how soft it was.

"I brought you my notes from first year. Read them, if you can't decipher something, I'll try to guess what I wrote. They'll come in handy for you before semester exams." She said immediately, as if afraid of silence or what more he might say, handing him some of her notebooks.

He nodded and took them from her, pressing his lips together, seeing that she had gone back to reading her lecture without looking at him.

"Thank you." He said, unable to do anything other than stare at her, at her shiny dark hair, at her gentle face, at her long eyelashes, at her floral dress fastened at the front with big white buttons.

They were both quiet, but despite the silence, broken only by her flipping the pages, he could feel the tension between them, her figure focused and prepared to flee.

He didn't know why he did it, but he slid a little lower and laid his head on her shoulder, just as she had done back then, during that holiday, reading the book about the Mighty Vhagar with him.

He heard her swallow hard and take a deep breath as his arms tentatively embraced her at the waist, cuddling into her like a small child.

He felt her twitch, her chest began to quiver as if she felt like crying. Feeling this, he stroked the side of her waist, his lips placing a gentle, reassuring kiss on her soft, fragrant skin.

"– please –" She muttered.

"– I have a gift for you –" He said, dreading what she was about to say. She involuntarily glanced at his arm as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers and took out a rose-shaped lollipop.

"– I didn't know what kind of flowers you like, so I bought one like this – the sales lady said it has a strawberry flavour –" He explained and she swallowed hard, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a wide, sad smile on her face.

This sight broke his heart.

He pressed his forehead to her temple as she took it shyly from his hand, spinning it between her fingers, staring at it as if he had given her something precious, a ring or a necklace.

"I'll eat it later. I don't want to get the books dirty now. Thank you, that's very kind of you." She said softly and he nodded, his hand involuntarily from her waist rising to her face, letting his fingers run over the warm structure of her skin.

He felt her body relax slightly and they both let their bodies lean back a little, spreading out more comfortably on the large, soft pillows. He swallowed hard as she pressed her head against the hollow of his neck, as her hand lay uncertainly on the spot where his heart was beating.

He locked her in his embrace, kissing lazily the top of her head, feeling that he was completely hard, that he wanted her more than ever, knowing that he couldn't have her now, that he might never feel her like this again, but it didn't matter anymore.

She was with him, in his arms.

"Several of my father's men are dead. They were shot on your grandfather's orders." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling, playing involuntarily with the curls of her hair between his fingers.

"I know."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No. My grandfather restricted my field of action after we called the emergency services when you…"

He didn't finish and closed his eyes, seeing her again in the bathtub filled with blood.

They were both silent for a moment, taking comfort from their closeness – her hand ran over his sternum, making a pleasant shiver pass through his body.

"If your grandfather tells you to kill Daemon or my brother. What will you do then?" She asked quietly in a trembling voice.

"I will tell him to do it himself. The times when I was his dog are over and he knows it. He has no idea what to do with me. I'm out of his control." He sneered, sighing heavily, feeling suddenly tired and weary. His niece twisted and raised herself up on her elbow, looking at him with concern.

"What's your plan?" She asked, and he hummed under his breath, sliding his fingers from her neck between her breasts, playing with the buttons of her dress.

"I want to start acting on my own." He said cautiously, watching her reaction carefully. He saw that she tensed all over, looking at him warily.

"What do you mean?"

"If you think there's a way I could escape this world, you're wrong. Even Daemon didn't escaped it, he simply gathered his most trusted people and expanded his influence. I want to do the same, and I will start by taking over Heavenly Beach. Since Larys is dead, chaos has reigned there, and I intend to take advantage of it. Many of my grandfather's people don't like the vision of them having to work for Aegon in the future. They neither respect nor fear him." He said lightly with some kind of pride and mockery, running his fingers up and down her sternum with a smirk.

She had a penknife under her bra.

She shuddered and swallowed hard as he tapped his finger on the spot where his watchful gaze had spotted its shape, pretending he hadn't meant to keep his hand on her breast at all.

"– wise girl –"

"What do you intend to do with my step-father?" She asked in a trembling voice.

He hummed under his breath, looking curiously at her chest, slowly cupping her plump breast in his fingers, thinking how wonderfully it fit the shape of his hand.

"Nothing. I won't attack him first. For you. He has nothing to do with Heavenly Beach." He said softly, spreading himself out more comfortably on the cushion, feeling a pleasant warmth in his belly at the sight of her hand clamping down on his wrist, as if she wanted to simultaneously push him away and draw him to her at the same time.

"– stop – someone will see –" She muttered, looking around quickly to make sure they were still alone in the room.

"I want it back." He whispered. "I want what we had during that summer."

He heard her swallow hard, shocked by his confession.

"I…God, after all, you know it won't work. We can't. No one will accept it, no one will understand. We'll be miserable again." She mumbled pleadingly, feeling his hand move from her breast to her neck, burying itself in her warm, bare skin, her cheeks pink with emotion, her gaze hot and hazy.

"If you don't want it, I'll understand it. What I desire is fucked up, like my whole person. But I want you to know that what happened between us… then, when my father died. It was real. I've never felt more alive and fulfilled than then, being deep inside you. You were so warm." He said, brushing her soft face with his thumb, looking at her beautiful, puffy lips, the taste of which he longed to feel again so much.

"Aemond." She mumbled in embarrassment.

"I don't care how wrong it is. I don't care about morality. I've done far less moral things to other people. Making love to my niece seems to me the smallest of my sins." He confessed, burying his fingers in her smooth, dark hair, the tips of their noses touched as he made her lean towards him.

"Someone might say it's disgusting and wrong, but I only care about what you want. I don't give a shit about others. What they will think of me, whether I live by their rules or not. What can they do to me? Mock me? Fear me? They are already do. It's not about me, it's about you. I don't want to ruin your life." He said, shaking his head, watching her reaction, her eyes grew wide with shock, her lips parted in heavy, deep breaths.

The sight of her bursting into silent, helpless sobs broke his heart: his mouth began to place quick, lingering, loud kisses on her beautiful, rosy face, all swollen with tears.

"– please – please, I don't want you to cry because of me –" He muttered in pain, feeling his voice tremble with emotion, stroking affectionately her head and neck.

He pulled her body closer to him, wanting to embrace her, protect her, hide her from the pain that tormented her so much.

"This is just too much. I wish I could be a child again. To go back to that sea. To fall asleep next to you in that room. I wish I could feel again the peace I felt then. Your presence next to me. But I can't have it." She mouthed, choking on her own tears, making him press his lips together in pain.

"You have it. You have me. You always had."

She froze, looking at him with a hot, hazy look that made him want to take her in the middle of the library.

However, he decided that he wanted and should do something completely different.

"Do you like me?" He asked as one of his hands ran up and down her bare thigh, while the other was slowly stroking her head. She looked at him in silence for a moment and nodded uncertainly, trying to calm herself down.

He thought she looked like a small, terrified child.

"Very much?" He continued and she nodded again, breathing loudly through her mouth.

He smiled involuntarily, cupping her cheek, hot with emotion, in his hand.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Her eyes got big, her eyebrows raised high as she gasped loudly, shocked by his question.

"This time I'm aware of what I'm asking for. What I want. And although I should, I'm not ashamed of it. I have wasted eight years that I could have spent with you, no matter how much we would both have suffered during that time. I want to suffer with you by my side now." He whispered, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, looking affectionately at her beautiful, gentle face, all pink with emotion and tears.

"I wish I could trust you, but I don't know if I can." She muttered, making him feel a squeeze in his stomach.

"I know. I'll wait as long as it takes." He said, brushing her cheek with his fingers, wanting to comfort himself and her.

She nodded, sighing heavily, as if she had given up and stopped fighting.

"You can only embrace me and hold my hand. No kisses on the lips and don't try to take me." She muttered.

He chuckled under his breath, feeling as happy as a small boy, cuddling her whole body into his at last, feeling her pleasant warmth, her scent, her closeness.

"Very well." He hummed, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

He saw her frown and grinned widely, cocking his head.

"Your nose is not your lips, is it? Just as your cheeks. Your jaw. Your neck. Your shoulders." He whispered, brushing his full lips over each of the places he mentioned, leaving wet, hot marks on her bare skin. He sighed as he felt her fingers clench on his back, her soft breasts pressing into his chest.

He got his girlfriend back.

______

Author's note: When we started dating, my husband brought me bouquets of lollipops because I don't like cut flowers and I could at least eat this. I think it's such a sweet idea!!!

309 notes · View notes

scratchandplaster · 1 year

Text

smartdraw.com - A cool website I found!

I wanted to do a blueprint of a scene and searched for a free online tool. This website has more than just house plans and mind maps, and I think it could really come in handy if you want to make some settings more approachable.

You can choose to start from scratch or use one of the many templates. The latter is probably easier in the beginning, to try out the different ways to arrange and color the objects. After getting used to the interface (it is similar to PowerPoint) you can use the result as a way to plan your scenes or give your readers a visual aid to follow the plot.

The symbols (or rather objects) for the floor plans, timelines, family trees, crime scenes etc. are sorted in many subcategories, e.g. Floor Plans -> Furniture -> Kitchen. No matter which type of diagram you pick, you can also use the objects from the others, so if you want an endoplasmic reticulum in your bathroom blueprint, go for it.

I think that for whump purposes you should especially check out the Crime Scene category for blood, drugs, weapons and so on.

I do have to say that I experienced some bugs and long loading time, but that could just be my ancient computer going wild. Also, the graphics are certainly not the prettiest. As someone who would have had to draw everything themself instead, it's still a great option.

TLDR: It's like Picrew but for locations.

#smartdraw #writing tips #writing advice #whump #whumpblr #creative writing #look at me doing free ads on here smh #i dont know why this makes me so exited lol #writing tool #design tool #free #online #i cant draw at all #this could be very useful for schoolwork too

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elliewluvr · 3 months

Text

sells 2 | ellie williams

pairing: drugdealer!ellie x f!reader

read part 1 to this series !

summary: ellie’s a popular known drug dealer who you just so happened to have a few sexual encounters with but what happens when you need to face her again?

content warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, drug use, flirtatious behavior, fingering, degradation and praise, reader receiving, a ton of kisses, rough sex, bondage, strapon sex

dont purchase tlou2! support palestine 🇵🇸

a few months went past, you and ellie hardly talking unless it was in class, sometimes passing eachother with a few hi’s and bye’s once class was finished. upon the sexual encounter you two had at that party, you couldnt find yourself being willing to be alone with her .

maybe you were pussy.. maybe you didnt want things to be awkward.. whatever the case was, you didnt engage nor bring up the situation that happened that night.

until you realized you were low on weed, the same weed you begged your roommate to buy from ellie so you wouldn’t have to see her by yourself.

the exchange went on for a couple of months, buying a great amount of weed from the auburn haired girl so you didnt have to ask your roommate to pick it up as often.

it wasnt until she told you last time that she could no longer do such things. you figured she gotten tired of it and understood considering it wasnt her responsibility.

after about 45 minutes of contemplation and mental preparation, you swiftly grabbed your phone, opened you and ellies convo.

you: hey, think you could sell 2 me tn?

in an attempt to distract yourself from the somehow embarrassing action you’d just committed you went into your kitchen, opened up the pantry and found the biggest bag of chips you find. you settled down on the couch, where you found the remote to watch some netflix to pass time.

hours had passed, and while you quietly giggled at your favorite show, rewatching it for the unth-teenth time, you kinda started to wonder why you were in this predicament to begin with.

and just as you remembered, the screen of your phone lit, dimly lighting the mostly dark room, since it was about dusk by now.

ellie: yea im not mobile rn but yk i can do a quick smthn 4 ya.

you froze reading the small black letters across your screen. quickly pausing your show, you picked up your phone, opening it up to the conversation where you re read the text. “do a quick something..like what? jesus fuck.” you scoffed quickly typing back a response.

you: uh what quick something did u have in mind?

a few seconds had gone by and your phone lit up again:

ellie: you think u can come to mine? shouldn’t be too far from your dorm

oh okay great so now you had to come to her. reluctantly, you agree. she sends her address and with a sigh, you slide on your shoes, grab your wallet and head out. it’s about a 10-15 minute walk to ellie’s place depending on how fast you walked. she lived on the edge of east campus and luckily you were right on the south campus so it was a some what decent commute.

when you arrive to apartment 210 with a quick knock to the door, your heart is beating out of your chest. not from walking so fucking far but from the anxiety that would entail you seeing her alone. in a drug dealers house. i don’t know why but the entire ordeal just seemed foreign to you.

maybe it was pussy of you to avoid her for months but who could blame you, the way she touched, kissed, and groped your soft skin that night sends shivers down your spine just from the thought. never in your life were you able to come undone so easily.

it was strange how good she had a lock on you and your mind, times where youd wanna text her a quick ‘come over’ just so she can recreate the scene from that bathroom at that god awful party. suddenly, the door cracked open.

immediately met by her low green orbs tinted a light pink from the joint she had rolled in the living room. she was in nothing but a white tank and gray sweats that hung dangerous low. you caught a quick glimpse before she interrupted with a, “wanna come in?” opening the door wider to let you in.

“oh yeah, of course.” you muttered walking into the apartment. the smell definitely hit you in the face once you were a good 5 feet into the apartment. ellie noticed your face when you caught a whiff.

“fuck, sorry. i just rolled so it kinda stinks a lil.” she apologized, grabbing stray laundry and random pieces of rolling paper as she walked through the hall leading to the living room. ellie swore she had tidied up a bit more. “please, you’re all good.” you smiled, reassuring her as you entered the living room, locating the sofa and finding a seat there.

“so what were you lookin’ to buy?” ellie asked, continuing to nervously clean the room littered in little baggies and black joggers. you pulled out your wallet, skimming through your cash and counting it all. “uh, how much can i get with sixty three dollars and forty nine cents?” you grinned, nervously giggling, cash in hand. ellie smirked, tilting her head to the side, “maybe 3 grams? but for you i can make it a little more.” she teased.

always with these “but for you’s”, jesus.

“what do you mean, ‘but for you’ ?”, you asked, doe eyed and curious like a puppy. ellie sorta tensed for a sec, but quickly played it off. “you’re just cool, i dunno. also you helped me with studying so, fuck it why not? i mean if you wanna pay full price no objections here, heh.”

you forgot all about the studying session you had with her, ultimately ending with her fingers back in your cunt, massaging your spot over and over again until you were sobbing and knocking the test books onto your pink rug in your dorm.

giddy and chattering like a highschool girl, ellie was talking for what seemed like days before she quickly smiled and stopped in place to tell you “i’m gonna go in the back and uh- grab the shit. stay here.” she scurried off. “nah ima go back home” you muttered under your breath and rolling your eyes, a small smile forming as you opened your phone, looking for something to scroll through. twitter seemed to be your saving grace that day, slowly scrolling through cute pictures and occasionally dumb memes posted by those god awful accounts you followed back when you were 14.

ellie stepped back in, baggie in hand and you anxiously started counting your money again just to make sure you had exactly sixty three dollars and forty nine cents. “and how much was it again?” you asked, bills in hand, ready to do your drug deal like big girl. “erm just thirty five.” she quickly said, trying to draw focus away from the obvious price reduction.

“thirty five? for allat?” you questioned, thinking maybe she grabbed one bag too many. “yeah it’s good, babe don’t sweat it.” she brushed it off, sitting on the sofa next to you. you took your cash counting up three ten dollars bills and a five. handing it to her, you felt her rough palms brush against your comparably soft ones and you swore you memorized every detail on her hand. the little scar right below her thumb, her knuckles bruised a bright pink and the start of her tattoo which travelled up her forearm.

after ellie handed you your baggies, she commented;

“we kinda match.”, she smirked, looking down. you were confused, what was matching? at first you tried comparing the color pallets of each others outfits, but you were wearing green and black which didn’t seem like a match to her grey and white. after you sat in 5 long seconds confusion, she clarified, “your tattoo?”, she gestured down again noticing the butterfly tattooed on the forearm holding the weed.

“oh- yeah um. i noticed yours, it’s really pretty but isn’t that a moth? mines is a butterfly.” you quipped holding up your arm to hers for a full side by side comparison. “i mean yeah, but- erm, it’s like a sun and moon kinda thing. you know like yin and yang i guess?” she terribly explained but you caught on. “what so i’m the sun?” you asked, a finger lightly grazing over her arm, tracing the details. “suppose so.” ellie responded, doing the same to your arm in turn, her finger now connecting the dots of your tattoo as well.

“and you’re the moon?” you asked again

“nah dina is.”

“very funny.” you smirked.

“yeah well i try.”

you had no idea you were even this close to her until your ridiculous lesbian banter had ceased. noses inches away from each other, hands on fore arms and eyes locked, like if you stopped looking at her you’d die instantly. after a comfortable silence you started, “hey i uh, actually can’t roll. do you think you can help? or atleast just show me so i know how.” you giggled, shaking your head at the embarrassing question. “awh, poor thing. yeah sure, i’ll teach you pretty girl.” she smiled grabbing a baggie, opening it and pouring its contents onto the tray that sat on the coffee table in front of her.

you were lying, you knew how to roll but just wanted to find a reason to stay there a bit longer. a reason to end up back in her arms. a reason to have her lips back on yours. i dont know, fuck. you just wanted to be back with her.

“alright first off, you wanna grind your shit, obviously.” she started, knocking you out your thoughts once again. she carefully went through each step, making sure you were paying attention throughout. “eyes on me, pretty.” is all she would say whenever she caught you wandering off, fantasizing about how her hands would feel wrapped around your waist, keeping you still while she-

fuck.

“im paying attention, i promise.” you smiled again, focusing on the blunt she was beginning to roll. and god when she did it, it was fucking perfect. watching the muscles in her hands contort to her will, something about it made heat begin to pool at the bottom of your stomach. when ellie was finished, the blunt sat perfect between her two fingers offering it to you.

“this is really stupid question but do you wanna..smoke it with me?” you asked, eyes locked onto her again. “fuck, you mustve missed me or something, pretty.” ellie remarked, eyes still low from the joint she had before. “should you ever be so lucky” you responded, before asking, “you got a lighter or..?”

—

half a blunt later, your shoes off and your eyes are dangerously low, tinted a hot pink from the fat blunt ellie had graciously rolled for you. you and her sat on the sofa, watching girl, interrupted, one of ellie’s favs. you were carefully finding moments to glance over at her sitting next to you, her arm behind you resting on the sofa. yours thighs are touching but that’s about the most contact you’ve gotten all night.

a little relaxed thanks to the weed, you laid your head onto ellie’s lap. thank fuck you were high because no way you’d even try this shit sober. ellie peered down at you before saying a gentle, “you okay?” you hummed in response and that was enough for ellie.

sitting in the silence doing nothing but watching this movie made you so surprisingly comfortable. like you didn’t need to constantly talk to ellie. simply being in her presence was enough. something about her that just instantly calmed you. god you had such a crush it was pathetic.

instinctively, ellie rests her hand on the small of your waist, before rubbing it gently, being careful with her movements as she knew you were faded, “is this okay?” she asked, looking down at you who were comfortable resting in her lap.

“it’s okay.”

“it’s okay?”

“it’s okay”.

ellie carefully rubbed the area where it previously rested, giving your waist a little squeeze before gently rubbing it back and forth. god she could lull you to sleep if she really wanted to. placing your hand on top of hers, you methodically intertwine your fingers into her own, holding her hand while it rests on your waist.

“y’know my first dates usually don’t go this good so this is a nice change.” the green eyed girl softly muttered, eyes glued to the tv. “this is a date?” you peered, heart skipping a beat. “you’re in my house, lying on my lap, watching a gay fuckin movie with me on my couch. and we smoked. yeah, babe, this is a date.” she quipped smiling softly before peeking down at you, stealing tiny glances herself, constantly staring as if she’d forget what your face looked like if she couldn’t get a good look every 5 minutes or so.

you hummed in response, lightly tracing her strong knuckles with your thumb, “okay, maybe this is a date.” you giggled, rolling on your back to get the perfect view of her from below. her jaw, clenched tight while she chews on her pouted pink lips. you noticed every freckle on her face, every tiny scar; even the one right on her eyebrow that caused a little slit. you marveled at the girl, fascinated with her.

“like something you see?” ellie’s smirked, low green eyes now locked on your deep brown ones. hesitant, you respond, “possibly.” and smiled, head tilting while you flirted with ellie for probably the sixteenth time that night. “how uh, possible would you say it is?” she quipped. “like percentage wise?,i’d say like a good 73% chance.” you told her, finding her hand again to gently grab it.

“what’s goin’ on w’you n my hands?” she asked, smirking at the sight of you fidgeting with with her bruised, slender hands. “considering they were in me. i like em, they look nice.” you felt your face start to warm up from the sudden word vomit you let slip out due being too high to care. ellie perched an eyebrow, her grin growing revealing her pearly whites.

“you know where they’d look even nicer?” ellie question, now running her free hand through your hair. “mm?” you asked with a hum?

ellie softly released her hand from your grip, carefully moving it up to your face to caress your warm cheek, gliding her thumb in small, soothing little circles. she hunched down to get her face closer to yours and when she was close enough she answered;

“back deep inside you”. her hands moved to hold both of your cheeks with just one hand. you laid there in shock, pussy clenched thinking of how deep ellie’s slender appendages would fuck into your wet core until you were nothing but flesh and bone. you felt your whole body warm up, before you said, “i know they would.” you softly said, lifting your head up to get even closer. before the two of you knew it your noses were inches apart from each other again, eyes locked.

and you knew the second that ellie pressed her soft lips into yours, you were fucked.

her lips were so soft against yours, her dominance genuinely taking over once she leaned forward to initiate the kiss. god her lips felt so good, making you bring a arm up to wrap it around her neck, fingers grazing her scalp a bit as you dug fingers into her hair that fell right above her shoulder blades.

your eyes were shut tightly, mind a bit foggy from how her hands quickly went up from your waist to grab ahold of one of your tits. her calloused palms gripping the flesh before pulling away. you let out a soft whine in response, not wanting the kiss to be over. “take these off.” she demanded, referring to your green joggers that you slipped on upon hearing that she was gonna sell to you.

quickly sitting up, tugging the spandex material off of your legs while ellie on the over hand watched. her eyes trailing from your soft thighs to the black panties you had on. you always made sure to wear a matching set no matter the circumstances. she noticed this, taking a liking to how you always wanted to keep yourself put together. her hands readjusted you so you were now on her lap with your back to her, her slim but the long fingers grabbing ahold of the hem of your panties to slip them down your legs before tossing them aside and pushing your thighs back towards her.

“keep these legs open for me, babe. dont let me have to tell you twice.” her raspy but smooth voice let out into your ear, making you nod and whine a bit upon her sudden demands. you never seen ellie so demanding before, the controlling and dominance she was asserting made you shiver ontop of her. whats gonna into this girl?

she placed a hand between your thighs, palming your pussy for a little while before rubbing her middle and ring fingers through your pussy lips, your breathing hitching as you whimpered softly in her touch. this made her lips curl in a smirk, laying a long peck in the crevice of your neck.

you couldn’t help yourself, holding your legs open for her while furrowing your eyebrows once she began rubbing your clit in moderate paced circles, being sure to wrap her arm around your waist from behind to keep you pinned to her. the feeling of the pads of her fingertips rubbing your sensitive clit made your legs tremble, soft moans leaving your lips ever so easily. you felt your hips buck up towards her fingers, wanting as much attention between your thighs than before.

she caught onto this, biting her bottom lip as she watched before landing a slap onto your pussy, “dont get greedy, let me build you up to that first.” she said, making you squeal upon feeling of the gentle spank on your cunt, your back arching in response.

a couple of seconds passed, your moans growing louder once her fingers slipped in a bit effortlessly. “look at that babe, your pussy is molded in the shape of my fingers.. they fit so perfectly in you.” you moaned in response, mouth slightly agape while you felt her almost immediately push her fingertips up against your spot, “els!” you moaned out, gasping once she sped up her fingers.

you and her both watched in awe, your thighs trembling and twitching each time her fingers hit that spot that had you squeezing your eyes shut while being tempted to close your legs. she smirked once again, pushing her digits deep into you before flicking her fingers back and forth in a ‘come here’ motion.

“yeah? does it feel good? talk to me, pretty.” she said, making your mouth fall open and head fall back onto her shoulder, “yes! dont stop.. ‘feels so good ellie!” you moaned out, eyes shutting as your core began to tense. ellie hummed in response to you, knowing how good she had you feeling considering your pussy was clamped down onto her the second she let her fingers ease into you.

“kiss me.” she said a bit above a whisper, your head turning in her direction to immediately be met with those green irises on you. she stuck her tongue out to slip it into your mouth, a eager but ultimately sloppy kiss igniting between you two as she continued her movements with her fingers. her curled fingers hitting your spot over and over again until you pulled away from the kiss.

“im gonna-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence without a long moan dragging from your throat and to ellies ears, making her smirk, nod, and use her free hand that was around your waist to rub your clit quickly. “let it out, dont hold back for me.. let me hear you scream babe..”

you gripped onto your thighs tightly, freshly manicured nails digging into your plush skin as you let incoherent words drag from your lips while you came undone on her fingers for the third time now. you trembled, feeling her take her soaked fingers out to raise them to your lips. “suck.” she demanded. you wrapped your lips around her digits, looking into her eyes at the same time as you sucked your juices clean off her fingers, making her furrow her eyebrows and bite her lip at the sight. “fuck..” she mumbled to herself, pulling them out to kiss you once again. the taste of you still lingering on your tongue.

ellie pulled away for a moment, making sure you were okay upon sitting you back onto the couch. you were still a bit shaken up from the oh so good orgasm you just had, shakily reaching for your panties as ellie stood from the couch, “oh, you wont be needin’ those.” she said, making you raise a eyebrow a bit confused, “ what do you mean?” you asked confusedly before watching her crouch down in front of you to pick you up off the couch.

her muscles making it easy to just scoop you up and off of the cushioned seat, you squealed a little, wrapping your arms around her neck in response, “i got you.” she said, chuckling a bit at your reaction before pushing her lips back against yours.

the two of you made your way out the cloudy living room and towards the hallway that led to her bedroom, ellie occasionally tripping over a few items she had forgotten to pick up due to the rushed invitation into her home, using a free hand to grab the wall to keep the both of you steady. she smirked against your lips once she reached her room, tossing you onto the mattress before pulling her white tank top over her head.

you watched, deciding to do the same to your black crop top and bra, now completely naked for her eyes to travel your body for a few seconds. this sight making her practically wanna take a picture and put it as her lock screen. “so fuckin’ pretty, just a second.” she said, dominant hand softly rubbing your inner thigh before turning around to grab her stool near her closet, stepping on it to reach up and grab one of the plenty shoe boxes she had on the shelves.

you laid there patiently, still oblivious as to what she was searching for but not for long once she pulled out something that resembled a harness and another object that you just couldn’t quite see due to her back being turned. ellie on the other hand placed both of the items in one of palms, finally turning to face you to reveal what she had.

a strap. a fucking strap.

“think you could take this?” she asked, walking back towards you before sliding her joggers and underwear down her legs. you nodded, “mhm..” you managed to let out, eyes trailing down her body to her pussy and muscular thighs that still remained slim but was there for you to see.

god, how perfect her body looked.. her muscles and abs flexing as she attached the dildo to her harness, the auburn haired girl looking up from the activity to meet your eyes that was practically glued to her. “like what you see?” she asked for the second time tonight.

“absolutely.” you said sassily, rolling your eyes before letting a laugh pass between your mouth as you were laid back on your elbows, looking up at her, “i bet.” she said with an smug expression over her face, clipping the last buckle of her strap onto her waist. she climbed up onto the bed alongside you, grabbing your ankles to flip you over on your stomach. you let out a breath once your face hit the pillows. ellie adjusted herself, getting comfortable between your thighs.

“you look so fuckin’ good from this angle, babe.” you heard her let out, making you whine in response while your pussy immediately clamped on nothing upon the feeling of her rubbing the tip of her strap between your wet slit. “do you want it? let me hear how you want it baby.” she said, smirking as soon as she heard you start to beg.

“please, i want it so bad el’s.. need you in me..” you whined, pushing your hips back towards her a few times before feeling her land a rough slap on your ass, making you gasp and squeal from how your right ass cheek stung. “say it again, pretty girl.”

“please fuck me.. please ellie, i want you so bad.” you said, looking back at her with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes from being both still high and now horny. she hummed at your words before pushing the silicone into you, gasping from being stretched open. you gripped onto one of the pillows, immediately attempting to push yourself forward once you felt it hit your cervix.

“dont fuckin’ move..” she said, grabbing your hips to now stroke into you, her waist hitting your ass repeatedly as she pretty much rolled her strap deep in your cunt. you let moans pass between your lips while you sat up onto your forearms, ellie grabbing your hair in her fist as she started to speed up.

your head was yanked back, jaw slack, and body trembling once you felt the silicone graze your spot, eyes rolling back from the way she fucked you. she wasted no time to make you putty in her hands. “good girl.” her raspy voice spoke, earning a moan from you.

you gasped loudly upon feeling her start to hit that spot head on. your fists gripped the sheets, trying to once again push your body forward to get it to stop, your ego couldn’t allow yourself to cum so quickly.

“what did i say, hm? thought you said you could take it? what happened?” she asked, placing her free hand on the small of your back while biting her lip to keep her from moaning herself once she could feel how tightly you were clamped down on her.

ellie was thrown out of her complete bliss, noticing the headboard that was slamming against wall roughly due to you trying to get away. “nope.” she simply said, pulling out of you roughly to get back off of the bed.

“and dont you fuckin’ move, i got something thatll stop all that moving.”

you fell down onto the pillows in front of you. your body was shaking and you were trying to catch your breath, just based off of the fact that you pissed her off, you refused to move even the slightest. ellie was frustrated, knowing that she had neighbors and couldn’t have you flailing all around her bed, she stepped back up onto the stool to grab something else from the box.

you glanced back to get a view on what she was getting, only to see something that looked similar to red ribbon but due to her starting to turn around, you readjusted your gaze rather quickly. ellie got back on the bed, landing a harsh slap on your ass, “arch. what the fuck are you doing?” she said, face scrunched in irritation.

you obeyed her, whining once you felt your other cheek begin to tingle from the blunt force, this time it being more forceful than the one that she previously gave you. this made you a bit nervous considering that you could tell she was no longer the sweet quiet drug dealer you sat next to in class.

you felt the auburn haired girl pull your hands back with one hand, using her more dominant hand to tightly wrap the red ribbon around your wrists, making you whimper a bit, “i asked you if you could take it, didnt i?” she asked, being sure to tie the ribbon tightly like a boy scout just incase you even ATTEMPTED to break free from it.

“yes.. its just that it felt so goo-“ you started, getting cut off by her tying a bow after making the bond tight. the way she tied it quickly had you wondering if this wasnt her first time. who else was she fucking as to where she knew exactly how to tie bondage so quickly and easily on you. you were cut from your thoughts by her slipping back into you.

ellie took in the sight, biting her bottom lip before placing both of her hands into your deep arch to start her strokes back up. her hips curved each time she pulled the strap from out of you. your whimpers and moans filling the room as your face remained in the pillow, eyes rolling back in awe.

“fuck! e-ellie.. mmph!” you let pass from your throat and into the pillow, eyes rolling back from the feeling of her hitting your spot repeatedly making you try to reach for her waist. “oh yeah? take my fucking dick. take it, babe.” ellie let out before raising a leg up, foot flat on the mattress while she pinned you down into her dark grey sheets.

“you thought i didnt know what you were doing? you know how to roll, you just wanted me back deep in your cunt again. isnt that right?” she asked, thrusting her hips into you deeply while watching your ass ripple each time it hit her waist. you couldnt even form a sentence, drool slipping from your mouth as you grabbed at nothing.

your moans getting more breathy and short. ellie sat her leg back down before letting go of your waist to wrap a hand around your throat, pulling you up to her chest. her strokes were still deep and quick, making you whimper, “answer me, babe.” she said, making you incoherently say, “yes!”

she smirked, stroking her silicone dick into your spot while not even taking the time to let you breathe, the sounds of your moans, wetness, and skin slapping filled the room along with the occasional noise of the headboard hitting the wall. your eyes rolled back once again, her tatted hand reaching down to rub your clit before gently squeezing your throat and slamming her hips into you.

you gasped as your body began to spasm, eyebrows furrowing, and core tightening all at once. ellie caught onto this, a snarky look written across her face, “youre gonna cum pretty? youre gonna fuckin’ cum for me, hm?” she asked you, laying a few pecks onto your cheek. you whined, the whine fading into a moan, “yes.. im gonna cum! ‘gonna cum!” you cried out.

ellie’s strokes picked up significantly faster. “give it to me, give it to me babe.. cum on this dick.” she whispered in your ear, applying pressure onto your clit before rolling her hips into your spot. your back arched deeper than before, moans growing long and louder as your chest rose and fell, eyes rolling, and pussy clenching and unclenching over the silicone inside of you.

she took her time, slowing down her pace to rub your clit through your orgasm. “good girl.. let it all out.” she said, wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you close to her as you came down from your high. your body was weak, falling slumped in her strong arms that gently massaged you.

you felt yourself relax in her touch, looking back at the red haired girl before feeling her lay a few pecks onto your lips. “you did so good for me..” she whispered softly against your lips in between pecks.

your breathing was still uneasy, ellie slowly laying you down onto the bed and in return having the dildo slip out of your messy cunt, untying your hands to lay soft kisses over you now red wrists. a ring of your creamy orgasm at the base of her strap, making her stand to grab a towel, wiping it off before tending to you.

your eyes was heavy, blinking getting slow before you began to doze off. the auburn haired girl wiping you clean before unsnapping the harness off and crawling back into bed with you. her hands shifting you gently to lay overtop of her, pulling the cover over you twos naked frames.

“goodnight babe, sleep well, pretty.” she mumbled softly, being sure to not to wake you in the mist. she laid a gentle peck on your forehead before shifting to turn off her bedside lamp, wrapping her arms around you and slowly falling asleep with you.

—<3 hope you enjoyed reading part 2 to sells! more to come soon!

part 3!!

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#black writers #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie tlou2

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spngi · 2 months

Text

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4

part 5

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.

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It’s the first morning I truly wake up happy after a long time. I feel ready for a new beginning when I wake up embraced by Carlos’s body. It’s perfect to share the little things with him, his presence filling me with joy.

I watch him through the door; he’s on the phone now, and Paco is jumping on his legs, begging for attention.

We were having coffee outside, enjoying each other’s company, when his phone rang. Things are not like they used to be; we still have a long way to go to regain each other’s trust, but we are happy with the small steps we are taking.

The conversation my husband is having doesn’t seem good. He looks tense, defensive, and even without hearing his conversation, I can tell it’s a serious matter. He is standing in the middle of the room, phone in hand, head down, his abdomen bare, and wearing sweatpants. Every domestic scene warms my heart more, like him making pancakes for breakfast earlier or the large bouquet of peonies that miraculously appeared this morning.

I knew that just these gestures wouldn’t erase the pain Carlos and I had caused each other, but they were a good way to start this new journey.

I see him hang up the phone in a single, explosive gesture. He takes a breath while putting the device in his pocket.

“What’s your problem?” His voice echoes coldly in the room. I don’t understand who he is referring to or why he’s looking at me that way.

“What are you talking about?” I ask him, still confused as I approach his tense figure. The contrast with the relaxed figure he had before the phone call is clear. “What happened?”

“I tell you I love Martina, and you try to kill her? Is this how you want to move forward?” He explodes, his tone loud and desperate.

“What are you talking about? You think I tried to kill that girl? Are you out of your mind?” I ask him, my words stinging. Carlos looks at me as if I were a monster, and it hurts to be his first suspect. It hurts to know he thinks so poorly of me.

“What a great coincidence, isn’t it? I tell you how I feel about her, and today someone hits her car and flees.” He points at me as if he’s about to warn me. “You’re lucky she’s still alive.”

“Does it not occur to you that it could have been just a drunk idiot? Do you think so poorly of me that you believe I’d do something like that?” I exclaim, anger exploding from my body. That bitch had to ruin my life without me even doing anything to her.

“You lost the benefit of the doubt when you decided to killed those men.”

A car accident? I wouldn’t even have thought of that, and I had thought of many ways to get rid of the girl, but none involving her death—only involving putting a package with absurd amounts of drugs in her car and house, along with a call to the police.

Carlos’s words drive me crazy. I feel insane for hearing them because it can’t be true. His eyes look at me with disgust, as if I were a murderer.

“I don’t know how serious the accident was, but if I were you, I’d pray for her to be okay. It would prevent you from finally becoming a monster,” he says, and Paco runs away scared by the shouting.

I don’t think much after what I hear; my body is overtaken by rage, and I can only remember all the times Charles taught me to aim and shoot. That’s what I think about when I grab the closest object to me, a crystal vase, and throw it at Carlos.

The crystal shatters upon hitting the top of his head in small pieces. The noise is loud, and the whole house goes on alert before returning to its routine upon seeing the scene.

“Are you crazy?” He yells in shock, with glass shards all over the place, including in his hair, and small drops of blood running down his forehead.

“Maybe, but I’m not a murderer,” I say through clenched teeth. “Believe me, if I wanted her dead, there wouldn’t be any pieces of the car left to tell the tale, but I would never dirty my hands with someone as insignificant as her.”

The room turns into a chaos of shouting and arguing. Even though I love Carlos, I’m almost ready to throw another vase at him. I decide to stop arguing with him; it wouldn’t help when he’s so blinded by believing I would do such a thing. I turn around, leaving him to argue alone, and head back outside.

“You should leave, Carlos… I can’t stand looking at your face right now,” I say finally before leaving. “And don’t you dare ask anyone to clean up the mess you made,” I point to the floor and walk out.

I sit in a chair, not allowing myself to cry this time. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I spent a day without crying, so I forbid myself from doing it today! The scene that just occurred felt like it nailed the final stake into our marriage. There was no more unity, no more fidelity, respect, or love.

I couldn’t love for both of us alone, not when it was destroying me. When it was already destroying me.

“Your foot is bleeding,” I hear a voice pull me out of my thoughts, and when I look up, I see Charles.

“Oh,” I have no reaction. I look down and see the small pool of blood forming underneath the injured foot I hadn’t noticed before. “I must have stepped on one of the glass shards. I’ll take care of it…”

I try to reassure him and spare him from my melancholic company.

“Let me take care of it for you; just wait here, please,” he smiles, looking tense, possibly having witnessed the situation.

Just as I didn’t notice him leave, I didn’t notice him come back, this time with a first aid kit in hand. He kneels in front of me and gently takes my left foot.

“I can do this, Charles. Thank you,” I thank him and try to get rid of his presence.

“No, no, I insist,” he smiles worriedly, his eyes on me. There’s something there I can’t decipher; it’s not pity, but definitely something shining.

He opens the significantly large first aid kit that is necessary when someone with a gunshot or knife wound shows up at the house from time to time.

“Do you need anesthetic?” he asks, laughing.

“Although I would love to be high right now, it won’t be necessary,” I say, and he laughs lightly.

He pulls the glass shard out in one precise, smooth movement, and I watch as he cleans the wound with cotton and alcohol.

“To save you the trouble of investigating the accident… I didn’t do it,” I say to Charles.

“I know,” he replies, not bothering to look up at me, appearing certain of his opinion. “And I think if Carlos had a bit more reason and faith in you, he’d know that.”

It’s funny to watch him work with such calm and gentleness on a simple injury, contrasting sharply with all the memories of when he taught me to shoot and defend myself months ago.

“I didn’t teach you to do a job halfway and to leave traces. I have faith that you were a good student.” He looks up and smiles. Charles is the same age as me, but the difference between us is apparent. He’s lived and witnessed many things to be where he is now and still tries to be as gentle as possible in my company.

“Thank you,” I say, watching him as he wraps my foot with a bandage. It’s large and silly for the size of the cut, but the gesture enchants me.

I let my eyes wander away, to the garden or beyond it, my thoughts drifting. I don’t want to cry, not for Carlos. Just thinking about his name makes me sick, and I wonder why I did all this. Why did I sacrifice so much of my life for him? Why did I fight so hard for this marriage when it was destroying me?

It’s ironic how life presents things to us. Throughout my life, I’ve always loved art, preferring romantic ideals and works that depicted routine and brought peace. Now my life would be painted in a dark and melancholic canvas.

“If you could choose to be anything, what would you be?” I ask Charles, who is still kneeling in front of me, his hand gently touching my injured foot.

“What do you mean?” His green eyes look confused.

“I would have my own art gallery, or rather, I think I would like to work in a museum…” I let my mind wander, to what I could be if I weren’t here.

“In which museum?” he asks.

“In Washington,” I reply without thinking. “I think there cuz my favorite art is there, a beautiful Monet. I would be the happiest person to see it every day,” I smile at the scene in my mind, a genuine smile. “And you?”

“I think I would be a Formula 1 driver,” he laughs. “My childhood dream was to drive the red car around the world.”

“In another universe, I’m sure we’re doing that,” I smile at him, laughing. It’s silly to think about it, but it helps me calm down. “Please sit down.”

He closes the first aid kit and sets it aside, then sits in the chair next to me. He seems awkward or even embarrassed to do so.

“I don’t want to get divorced, Charles,” I murmur, scratching my forehead. I thought I would have more strength for this, that I wouldn’t give up so easily.

“He will find out it wasn’t you eventually” he murmurs.

“The problem isn’t the accident, or even Carlos. He isn’t that desperate about the divorce, and if he were, he would file for litigation” I sigh. “She wants the divorce; I just took a while to realize it… Carlos getting divorced is just a red flag for all his business, and it will make his life much more difficult… I just don’t know if I can handle it anymore.”

“Y/n…” the man calls me, then says, “You are the strongest woman I have ever known. You’ve been through so much and endured it as if it were just another normal day at work. You handle all the problems better than anyone here among us. You could be Carlos, but he could never be you.”

It’s the first time in a long while that a man makes me cry with joy.

One more part! I hope you guys are enjoying it!

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#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #cs55 x reader #angst #carlos sainz au #f1 fic #máfia!carlos sainz #mafia!f1 #mob!carlos sainz

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phoward89 · 4 months

Text

Dealer!Coryo x Reader

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, fighting, parties, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, degradation, overstimulation, breeding kink, Dom!Coryo, Bratty!Reader, um that's bout it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2:

Coriolanus swore that he was cutting you loose, but that didn't happen. Well, it happened for exactly 2 weeks, but then he walked into a party on the right side of town (Capitol Estates- a high end gated community full of super rich people. The Plinths tried to buy in the development, but the HOA didn't think the family was a good fit since they moved to Panem, Colorado from Dos, New Mexico roughly a decade back. Stuck up HOA bastards) with the intention to deal to some dumbass rich kids only to see your ex with you.

Wasn't Odysseus Odair supposed to be in California right now? What the ever loving fucking hell is he doing here flirting with you; giving you his charming manwhore smile? After seeing that, well, the dealer knew that he had to protect you from that motherfucker. He also felt jealous and very, very possessive of you.

Snow's possessiveness over you was primal. Almost caveman like in a way. Fuck! He just wants to toss you over his shoulder and yell for all to hear that you're off limits. That none of these dickweeds here are good enough for you.

So, without giving it a second thought, he went up to you. Slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, he tilted his head and growled at your ex, “Back off, Odair, she's with me.”

“Oh, really?” Odysseus laughed, not looking convinced.

Craning your neck to look at Coryo, you ask, “What're you doing here?”

Giving you a hard look, icy eyes cold with anger, Coriolanus retorted in a dry, deep baritone, “Working, what're you doing letting your manwhore ex push up on you?”

“We're talking, Snowball. That's all.” You assure your dealer. You want to roll your eyes at how he's acting, but don't. You know he's worried about your ex wooing you back, but he's got nothing to worry about.

But try telling him that.

“Yea, Snowball,” Odysseus mocked, his voice over exaggerated with a saccharine syrupy tone. “we’re talking so why don't you go off and sell some drugs.” With a provoking smirk, he jeered, “Isn't that what you do, being a drug dealer and all?”

What the hell? Does your ex have a death wish? Doesn't he remember how Coryo beat the ever loving shit out of him for cheating on you. Odysseus can't be that stupid, can he? You know the man with sea-green eyes is a pretty boy, but he has to have a brain underneath all that bronze hair, right?

“Snow, this peacock giving you trouble ‘bout your girl?” Sejanus asked, coming up on the scene. Festus was next to him, already half drunk and high, and was giving Odysseus a nasty look.

Great, now Coriolanus’ dealer buddies have come to back him up. Great…the last thing you need is to be caught in the middle of a fight cause your dealer’s acting like a jealous asshole right now.

“Yea, Plinth.” Snow tells the broad bear of a man that he considers a friend. No, a brother. “Fucking manwhore thinks he can dis me; push up on what's mine too.”

Oh Jesus…what the hell's going on?! Since when are you Snowball's? As of two weeks ago he said he wanted to stop hooking up; told you he'd do weed exchanges at your house- that you guys can't keep fucking in his apartment.

Mhm…

And now the motherfucker’s being crazy possessive and jealous cause he saw you talking to somebody at a party. Okay, it was your ex…but still…

“You better not piss on what belongs to Snow. Might get shot.” Festus advises Odysseus, taking a drag off his joint before passing it over to you with a pointed look. It's as if he knows you're going to need all the loosening up and relaxing tonight that you can get.

Coryo grabs the joint from Festus and passes it to you before lifting his arm from your shoulder and getting up into Odysseus’ face. Oh shit! This ain't good!

This ain't good at all!

Coriolanus gives Odysseus a hard look with his icy blue eyes while telling him in a sharp, threatening tone that oozed danger, “If you value your useless, fucking life I advise you to leave and not come back.”

“You think I'm dumb enough to come to this party without having friends here? Oh, Snowball, maybe you should lay off that coke you sell.” Odysseus taunts your dealer with the platinum buzz cut. Looking over his shoulder, your ex calls out, “Vinny, Hector! Gotta Snow problem!”

“Coryo, leave him alone.” You tell the tall blonde while reaching out to grab his arm. “Please, Coryo, let's just get outta here.” You plead as Livinius Cardew and Hector Heavensbee, two rich but very rough customers when it came to booze and dope, crawled out of the woodwork and appeared on either side of Odysseus.

Looking at you over his shoulder, Coriolanus gritted thru his teeth, “Don't call me that right now, baby.”

Festus snatched his joint back from you, since you're too busy trying to keep Coriolanus from fighting instead of smoking.

“Please, let's just go. I don't want you getting hurt or tossed into jail tonight.” You beg your dealer fuck buddy while tightly holding onto his arm and trying to tug him away from the three men that he's about to get into a throw down with.

Coriolanus wanted to strangle you right now. He's trying to take care of business and you're begging him to leave. Fuck, if he leaves with you he'll look weak. He can't afford to look weak. He's a drug dealer; it'll screw up his street cred.

Yep. You're his weakness. But he can't afford to show it.

Yanking his arm free from your hold, he tells you, “Go wait by my car.”

“Cor-” You begin to protest, only to be cut off by his deep baritone loudly snapping, “Bitch, I said go wait by my fucking car!”

“Fuck you, Snow.” You spit in his face, causing everyone crowded around to let out a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘dayumns’, before pivoting and storming off.

And you meant it, fuck him. Coriolanus can do whatever he wants. Bastard wants to call you a bitch and disrespect you all cause he needs his fucking street cred, then fine. So be it. But you're not sticking around or waiting by his car.

No.

You'll just walk home. Too bad the buses stop running in Panem at 6:45pm, otherwise you'd be able to catch one. And you can't call Ashlie, your brother's girlfriend to get you since she's currently working as a barmaid at the Hobb right now. You're lucky she was able to give you a ride to the party in the first place. And your brothers prolly 3 sheets to the wind right now on moonshine…

Damnit, looks like you get to walk across Panem to go home to the shitty trailer park you live in on the edge of town.

Fuck…

Snow would be a jackass tonight.

As Coriolanus wiped the spit off his face he made a mental note to punish you for that later. Yea, he's gonna have to fuck some respect and manners into you cause you're being a brat. You gotta learn how to behave around him while he's in his element; while he's working.

Odyssey cocked his head to the side, only to goad Coriolanus with a syrupy tart remark of, “I see you told her off. No wonder Y/N is letting me hit her up, you're obviously not doing it for her with your hood boy vibe.”

Without a word, Coriolanus balled his hand into a fist and took a swing at your Odysseus’ jaw; knocking him to the ground. The drug dealer grabbed the collar of your ex’s shirt, pulling him up so that he could punch him again.

And again.

Some people gasped, some screamed and shouted, but just about everyone stopped what they were doing to watch Coriolanus beat up your ex. The platinum blonde dealer has a rep for being a brawler, so everyone watches him fight- wonder if he's gonna kill somebody with his fists.

But when Livinius and Hector came forward to join the fight and push Snow off of Odysseus (who’s nearly unconscious at this point), Sejanus pulled Coriolanus off of your ex while Festus pulled his gat, threatening to pop some caps in their asses if they even dared to go after Snow in an unfair fight.

“Thanks, Sej, Festus, but I could've handle ‘em. I got a gun of my own, ya know.” Coriolanus told his friends as they walked out of the large house that was hosting the party.

Clasping his friend on the back, Sejanus said, “We know you can handle yourself, but you need to deal with your girl right now.”

“Yea, Snow, you need to bring her home and fuck her.” Festus crudely added in.

“Creed, shut up.” Coriolanus ordered his friend. Festus was such a perv, always talking about fucking and hooking up with anything that has two legs. God, Coriolanus cringes at the thought of how many STDs Festus must've had by now. Boy’s like a walking petri dish.

“I'll catch up wit’cha later. Gotta get to my car and deal with Y/N.” Coryo told his friends.

“Yea, you let her know who's boss.” Festus said while at the same time Sejanus wisely advised, “Don't be too hard on her, she's a nice girl; you don't find those easily.”

“Yea, I know.” Coriolanus dismissively snaps, only to walk off towards where his car was.

And when he reached his car you weren't there waiting for him, which nearly gave him a heart attack. Where the fuck were you?

Getting into his black luxury sedan (cause slinging dope really paid off) he pulled his iPhone out of his back pocket and called you. It was ignored, making him mad. So he called you again and again, only to keep having his calls ignored.

He would’ve kept calling you, but the sound of sirens blaring in the distance made his blood run cold.

Fuck! Somebody called the cops cause Festus pulled a gun. Damn, Coriolanus needs to get outta the gated community before he's stopped and taken in for questioning cause he's Snow- a known drug dealer.

And of course you're being a stubborn fucking bratty bitch right now.

Tossing his phone on his dash, Snow cranks on his car and quickly pulls away from the large party house. He speeds down the winding streets and manages to exit the gates community of Capitol Estates right before the cops can notice him.

And he's speeding down the road, heading home, whenever he spots your figure walking along the desolate highway I-70: which is very unsafe if you ask him.

Rolling down his window and slowing down to a cruise, he comes up on you and barks, “What the fuck a doing walking down the highway, baby? Trying to get snatched and killed by some creep?”

“I'm going home, Snowball. Gotta walk since the buses stopped running hours ago. Why else would I be walking down a fucking highway for?” You tell the platinum blonde hood with so much animosity in your usual sweet voice that it's not even funny.

“Come on, I'll take you home.” Snowball tells you, clicking the button to unlock his car doors for you.

“No thank you, Snow.” You turn down in offer in a polite, but clipped tone as you continue to walk down the road.

“Baby, don't be like this.” The platinum blonde dealer sighed. “You can't walk half an hour late at night back to the trailer park. It ain't safe.”

“What? Like you give a shit?”

“You know I do, Y/N. So get in the car, yea?”

You looked between Snow's black luxury sedan and the stretch of open road you're currently trekking down. You decided to be a lil bitch, give him the cold shoulder, and keep on keeping on down the highway.

Or at least you planned on continuing your walk, but Coriolanus’ baritone stopped you right in your tracks as he heavily announced, “The cops busted the party, we better get outta here before they come back and decide to pull me over for a traffic stop. Don't wanna get arrested for hauling shit in my car.”

Of course, Snowball has drugs in his car. After all, he's a dealer.

You heard the sirens; saw the cop cars whizzing by too. You didn't care. Let them bust the party. Everyone knows that Sejanus Plinth's father will buy him out of trouble, his friends too. So you weren't too concerned about Snow or anyone you knew at that house party in Capitol Estates getting busted.

But Coriolanus is right, him sticking around the area's risky since the cops are lurking around. If he got caught up in a traffic stop, searched for dope, and was arrested, then you'd be stealing money from your brother and sister-in-law to pay his bail- cause you know Snow would call you to bail him out.

It happened a couple of times before.

And if your brother catches you stealing his money again to pay the bail bondsman, well…you'd probably get a smack across the head and thrown out on your ass. Definitely the latter, maybe the former.

Sighing, you relented. “Fine, you can give me a ride.” You round the car and get into the passenger’s side.

The ride along the stretch of highway that leads into downtown Panem (and out of it to the outskirts and the trailer park you live in) feels long and stifling. The radio’s on low, providing the only noise in the car- the stero’s bass booming with Coriolanus' playlist. You're looking out the window; giving the dealer next to you the cold shoulder.

“I'm taking you back to my place.” Coryo told you, his voice loud over the radio.

“Why?” Was the one word question that flies out of your mouth

“What'd you mean ‘why?’. You know full well fucking why.”

Whipping your head around to look at his profile, as he drove down the road illuminated by his headlights and a few scattered street lamps. “Actually, Snowball, I don't know why. Last time I checked, you said a couple of weeks ago that you don't wanna hookup anymore; will just do weed drop offs at my front door.”

“Yea, well, after putting me thru hell tonight I'd say that you owe me a fuck.” Giving you a pointed look, he shrugged, “Or at least deep throat my cock.”

“I don't owe you shit.” And you'd stand by that too. Snow's nostrils flare angrily and he cuts his icy eyes at you. Rolling your eyes at his temper, you remind him of why you don't owe him. “You're the one that decided to come to my rescue; I didn't ask for your help. In fact I was fine just talking with Odysseus.”

“It's never just talking with you and Odair. It always ends up with you taking him back; trying again.” Coriolanus snaps, taking a hand off the steering wheel and reaching into the ashtray for a roach. “I ain't gonna sit back and watch him hurt you again, babygirl.” He pulled the roach out and brought it to his lush lips.

“So, you're jealous?” You ask, letting out a giggle of disbelief, as Coriolanus digs his lighter out of his pocket and lit up the roach.

“I'm not jealous, just a bit protective of you’s all.” The dealer half lied, since he was jealous, before tossing you his lighter. Pointing to the ashtray, he orders, “Grab yourself a roach.”

“You gonna charge me for it, Snowball?” You ask, reaching forward to grab a roach from the ashtray.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head. “And call me Coryo tonight, yea?” He says as you light up.

“Whatever you say, Coryo.” You shrug, tossing his lighter onto the dash as you smoke your roach.

His roach teeters against his lips as Coryo smacks your bare thigh (since you're in shorts) while telling you in a deep, dark baritone, “I’m gonna fuck some sense, respect, and manners into you tonight, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. Coriolanus has a big cock and you always enjoy getting fucked by him. But by his tone, he's pissed and is going fuck you hard tonight to prove a point. Do you care? Not really.

Hey, you're getting dicked down tonight, so you're not gonna complain about why it's happening.

After arriving at Coryo's apartment, he literally tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to his bedroom. Despite hooking up with him a few times, you've never been inside of his room. You’ve always hooked up on his couch in the living room. But it seems like Snow wants to fuck you in his bed tonight.

He unceremoniously tosses you onto his bed, making you bounce slightly. Coriolanus pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the side before pulling his gun out of his waistband and placing it on his bedside table. All while you just lay in the middle of his bed, silently watching him.

Pulling some bags of various drugs out of his pockets and putting them on the bedside table, the dealer tells you, “After tonight you won't be a bratty bitch with me anymore.”

“And what if after tonight's fucking I decide to still be a bratty bitch?” You countered, watching the platinum blonde as he kneels on the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly with the added weight of his body.

Coryo's hovering over your body. One of his hands is flat against the mattress while the other goes straight to your hair. His long fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it and making your neck crane so your face is close to his. Your eyes lock onto to icy blues, now blazing with lust and an unchecked emotion, as he tells you, “Then I'll just have to keep fucking you til you're not a bratty bitch anymore.”

Before you can even think of a retort, Coryo's lips are smacking against yours in a heated, dominant kiss. A kiss that he poured out all of his jealousy, obsessiveness, and possessiveness into. A kiss that you respond to right away.

The taste of beer, weed, and mint sets your senses on fire as Snow deepens the kiss by shoving his tongue into your mouth as soon as you let out a tiny gasp for air. Air that you'll never get since Coryo's determined to suck all the air out of your lungs with his hungry and raw kisses.

Kisses unlike any other you've ever had before.

Coryo kissed like a starving man who couldn't satisfy his hunger. Like a parched man with an unquenchable thirst. He kissed like he wanted to suck the very soul out of your body, only to swallow it whole and make it one with his own.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss, and just gave you a dark smirk before grabbing the hem of your dress. He didn't need to tell you what he wanted to do, you just knew. So, you lifted your arms up and let him pull off your tank top. Then, you lowered your arms and let him unclasp and pull off your bra. He tossed the black lacy thing across the room before taking one of your nipples between his teeth; causing you to moan and arch your back.

Coryo chuckled against your boob, only to swirl his tongue around your nipple while palming at your cloth covered cunt. The friction was only enough to tease you, which drove you insane.

“Coryo, please, fuck me.” You beg in a mewling moan.

“Oh, I'm going to fuck you alright. I'm gonna fuck you til I blow your back out; til you learn some respect and get it into that goddamn stubborn skull of yours that you belong to me and ain't gonna be talking with no other dudes.” He darkly promises before trailing open mouth kisses down your torso. Swirling his tongue into your belly button, he quickly unbuttons and pulls off your jean shorts, leaving you in just your lacy panties.

Panties that won't be on for long.

You're not sure how long you've been fucking Coryo for, but you do know that the bed's soaked, the sheets are prolly ruined, and you're in your third? fourth? position of the night. You also know that your pussy’s a wet, weeping, swollen, oversensitive mess. Also, you're so cockdrunk that your brain’s just about turned to mush right now too.

“You’re not so mouthy anymore, are ya, bitch?” Coryo asks, pounding mercilessly into your pussy from behind as you lay bonelessly on the bed with a pillow propped under your lower belly/hips. The cool metal of his dog tags drags up and down your spine as he taunts you with, “Look at you, so cockdrunk that you're a dumb, submissive, little slut for me.”

“Mhm…” You garble out, drool pooling out of your mouth and onto his pillow.

“Fuck…your greedy cunt's creamin’ my cock so good. Got a thick creamy ring at the base, baby.” Coriolanus groans, harshly snapping his hips to thrust even deeper into your tight, abused hole. His breath is hot against your ear as he dirtily asks in a husky, deep, baritone, “You gonna soak my sheets again, you dirty little slut? Huh, babygirl? Gonna squirt all over my big balls as they slap against that puffy clit of yours?”

“Yes, yes.” You nod. “Coryo, ‘s feels good and too much all at once.” You tell him as the tip of his cock hits your cervix, causing your toes to curl and your fingers to dig into the sheets.

“Yea?” Coryo asks in a deep, throaty chuckle. “You can take it, tho, babygirl. You're my bratty lil slut and can take my dick like a goddamn champ.” He tells you, a moan caught in the back of his throat, as he ruts into you at an ungodly speed.

“Coryo…so close…” You gasp, feeling dizzy from getting your brains banged out by your possessive and primal weed dealer.

“Cum right now. Be my obedient good girl and cum all over my cock right now.” Coryo orders you in a deep, but firm tone.

His rough, lust-husky voice being so commanding sends you over the edge. You cum babbling his name over and over into the pillow your head’s resting sideways on.

Your moans and high pitch chants of “Coryo, Coryo, Coryo.” is music to the dealer’s ears.

Coriolanus prides himself on how good he fucks you, on how he can make you cum multiple times; make you a crying, rambling mess just with his cock and by manhandling you into whatever position he wants you in.

“I'm gonna fuck you til I fill that tight cunt full of my cum.” Coriolanus promises in a loud grunt as he plows into you, hard and deep. Little squeals fall from your lips as he huskily remarks, “Gonna knock ya up with my lil bastard.” His fingers dig deep into your hips, no doubt leaving bruises and crescent shaped marks. “We're gonna be able to collect all kinds of benefits once you're carrying my baby.” Coryo's icy eyes start to roll into the back of his head and his balls start to tighten up as he sloppily ducks into your tight cunt. “You're gonna look so sexy all full and round with my kid. You'll be glowing.”

One, two, three more fast thrusts and Coryo's filling your womb up with thick ropes of his hot, white seed. Instead of pulling out, he fucks his cum deep into you. He only pulls out once he's sure that every drop has been fucked deep into your greedy, awaiting womb.

You're a boneless, exhausted mess whenever Coryo's cock slips out of your overfucked and overstimulated cunt. A cunt that's still twitching. The platinum blonde dealer can't help, but smirk at your form laying on the bed all cockdrunk and fucked dumb.

He climbs down from the bed and goes over to your side. Pushing some sweaty strands of hair away from your face, he asks, “You good, baby?”

“Yea.” You barely whisper, nodding with a glassy-eyed look.

“I'll be right back. Gonna get something for ya to drink; something to clean you up with too.” Coriolanus told you before walking out of the room.

You smile as you watch his perfect ass leave the room and head down the hall. Yes, you'll admit that Coryo's ass is perfect. His broad shoulders, tapered slutty waist, and muscles are perfect too. Hell, the dealer’s an Adonis crafted by the ancient gods, that's how hot he is.

It doesn't take long for Coryo to return with a wet washcloth and a bottle of water that he's added some Liquid IV too. He usually drinks that stuff after a long night of heavy partying to afford hangovers, so he figures it'd be good as an aftercare drink. You can use all the electrolytes you can get after he went hard with fucking you.

After cleaning you off, he tosses the washcloth onto the bedside table and joins you in bed. He arranged your tires, fucked out body so that you’re snuggled into his side. Kissing your forehead, he reaches for the bottle on his bedside table. “Here, this’ll help hydrate you.” Snow says, handing you over the water bottle.

“Thanks, Snowball.” You smile, taking the bottle from him. You open it and take a sip. “Ugh, what is this shit? It's not water, Coryo.” You ask, making a funny face from the weird taste lingering on your tongue.

“It's gold cherry Liquid IV.” He told you, only to tip the water bottle up towards your mouth. “It'll hydrate you faster than water, so drink it.”

“It doesn't taste like golden cherries.” You mumble before taking another sip of the enhanced water.

“Stop complaining and drink it, Y/N. We don't want you passing out from being fucked too hard, now so we?”

You roll your eyes at him and take a longer sip from the water bottle. Passing it over to him, you say, “You should drink some too since you have the stamina of a stallion and nearly fucked me to death.”

“Don't be so dramatic, babe.” Coryo scoffed, taking the water bottle from you. “You like me fucking some manners into you.”

“Of course I liked it. I'd be stupid not to.” You tell him, watching as he gulps down the water. Better him than you drinking that stuff. Too bad he doesn't have any bottles of Gatorade in the fridge. Now that you wouldn't mind drinking.

“Got work or anything you gotta be up early for?” Coryo asks, capping the bottle bottle and placing it on his bedside table.

“No.” You shake your head against his chest. “Still haven't found anything yet, but I got an interview in a couple of days at The Hobb.”

“Yea…” Coryo trails off, only to firmly order, “You're not working there.”

“Why not? It's a busy bar so I wouldn’t be laid off.” You pressed, needing to know his reason for not wanting you to gain employment at the biggest bar in Panem.

“It's not a bar, it's a honkey tonk.” Your dealer dryly corrected you. “And it's just not somewhere I want my girl working at.”

You raised a curious brow while looking up at the man whose arms are wrapped around you, whose side you're tucked into. “Since when am I your girl, Snowball? Thought you didn't do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

“I’m usually the type of guy that doesn't want a girlfriend, but, baby, it's different with you.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls you deal to.” You say in an attempt to brush off Snow's words; the seriousness of their nature. Because if he really has feelings for you, then you're screwed. Hooking up with a dealer and dating one; belonging to one's are two very very different things. Things that could make your already rocky life even rockier.

“Actually, babygirl, no, I don't say that to all the girls I deal to.” Coryo honestly admitted. His usually cold icy eyes melted into a crystal blue as he looked into your eyes. “Just you, baby, cause you're special to me.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year

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Some little details you might have missed in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom

(Maybe part one?)

When discussing the Ice Court Heist at the start of the book Wylan explains that he speaks Fjerdan and although Jesper teases that he probably isn’t very good at it, the fact that Wylan has been to the Ice Court at least once before would beg to differ; as a diplomatic meeting it would probably be considered impolite if he and his family didn’t speak at least some Fjerdan when being hosted by what I assume to have been the royal family or at least higher-ups in the Fjerdan government. However, when he’s drawing up plans of the Court on the boat, Kaz asks why nothing is labelled and Wylan says “I don’t know Fjerdan”. He does, in fact, know Fjerdan (and it’s confirmed later that he speaks it well), but he is hiding the fact that he cannot write

In the Bathroom Scene™️ Kaz says that Inej’s tell is the way she squares her shoulders before making a move, “as if you’re waiting for the audience’s attention”. When Kaz goes to the slat in the next chapter, after the fight he squares his shoulders before making his speech to launch a coup against Per Haskell. I think this is really interesting and it absolutely shows what Inej realises at the time, that “the fight was just the opening act” but this, the talking and the convincing and the persuasion, this is Kaz’s superpower. I think this is so interesting and says so much about him, but it’s also a great Kanej parallel. More than any character I can think of, Kaz absolutely embodies the quote “I discovered at a very young age that if I talked for long enough I could prove anything right or wrong, so either I’m god or truth is relative. And either way, boo-yah” (which by the way is a quote from the brilliant sitcom Community)

This is my favourite Wesper parallel: in soc when Wylan uses a bomb to save them from the parem-drugged fabricator, Jesper says “Wylan earned his keep”. Wylan replies “Did I?” and Jesper says “Well, you made a downpayment”. At the end of Crooked Kingdom when the pair are able to go back to Wylan’s house because Van Eck has been arrested, Wylan asks Jesper if he really meant it when he said that he would stay and help run the business by reading to him, and Jesper says of course, but “I charge a pretty steep fee”. Wylan blushes and replies “well I hope the medik is here to fix my ribs soon, because I’d like to make a downpayment”. THEY’RE SO GODDAMN ADORABLE

This one I think is something people just forget, but Nina and Matthias are heavily implied to have slept together on Black Veil when they got from Ravkan embassy. The pair go to get changed and reappear “rumpled and rosy several long minutes later”. Jesper laughs when he sees them- he says “Staying on task?” to which Nina replies “I’m teaching Matthias all about fun. He is an excellent student, diligent in his studies” as Matthias gets progressively more and more embarrassed. But yeah I’ve never seen anyone talk about it I think people just forget

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #helnik #the crows #crow club #ketterdam #kuwei yul bo #shadow and bone

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cameronspecial · 1 year

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I Don't Share My Candy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug and Alcohol Use, Sexual Content (Not smut but some sexual tension that is let out) and Mention of Sex.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Rafe doesn't want to define their relationship, so Y/N decides to take matters into her own hands.

A/N: This idea came to me thanks to this Instagram post.

Masterlist

Being in a situationship with Rafe Cameron is just about the most frustrating thing that Y/N Y/L/N has ever done. And that says something because she works part-time at a daycare during the semester. Although, she could equate Rafe to a toddler. He doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no. He doesn’t like to share, but he expects other people to share their things with him. He doesn’t do a great job of hiding his emotions. He is clingy, only in secret when it is just the two of him cuddled under the sheets. He isn’t like most hookups Y/N has had. Once they finish their passionate activities, he wants to stay in bed and cuddle. He wants to make her a bath for aftercare and talk about their day. He wants to act like they are just an ordinary couple who just finished a night of lovemaking. He liked to consider them exclusive. The catch is that he only acted that way in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. It doesn’t even extend to the rest of their houses. Y/N wouldn’t find herself being cuddled on a couch in a living room with Rafe because, according to him, it is a hard no.

This is why she finds herself watching as Rafe lets a blonde grind her ass into his clothed cock. He didn’t even give a glance in her direction. Seeing him with other girls always makes Y/N wonder if he was the same way with all of his one-night stands. Does he like to cuddle them? Does he run them a bath and ask them what their favourite part of the day is? Y/N couldn’t stand to watch the scene anymore, so she left the party with a shake of her head. She wouldn’t let him keep playing this game of tug of war on what to label themselves. And she has a plan to get him to pull the trigger on admitting who they are to each other.

——

YN sits at her vanity getting ready with the help of her friends. As she does her makeup, Mable is giving volume to her curtain bangs to emulate the 70s style she is trying to achieve in her outfit. She found a brown patterned silk scarf shirt at the thrift shop, which she pairs with a black jean skirt and brown knee-high heeled boots. Everyone finished getting ready and it was time to add the finishing touches to their outfit that Y/N had bought thanks to TikTok. She hands out a candy necklace to each of her friends, putting on her own after everyone has received theirs. They head out to the nightclub with the goal of having the least amount of candies on their necklace and whoever does will be declared the winner.

When Y/N had thought up which friends to ask out, she had made sure they were mostly her friends who loved to document every little thing they did on social media and who Rafe was following. With a drink in hand, she laughs as the tattooed brunet leans down towards her neck to eat one of the candies. She watches as Clara documents the whole scene on her phone. Y/N made sure to lean her face towards the camera, so it was clear it was her. The man pulls away and gives her a smirk as he walks away. Out of the corner of her eyes, she catches a glance at Clara’s phone. She is posting the video to her story on Instagram, making sure to tag Y/N.

——

Rafe sits on the balcony with beer in hand and a joint resting on an ashtray on the coffee. He is skipping through people’s stories on Instagram when one particular one attracts his attention. He leans closer to his phone to make sure it is really her and the tag confirms who it really is. He observes the unknown person bring his lips down to her neck and Rafe feels his blood boil. Instead of placing a kiss in a place only Rafe’s lips should be close to, the boy’s teeth bite into a candy attached to the elastic necklace. Rafe rewatches the video over and over again, examining the look of joy on Y/N’s face. She shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as she is. She should only want him near her neck in that sense. On his fifth time watching it, Rafe notices the caption to the events going on: The girl with the least amount of candy wins and it looks like Y/L/N is playing to win. Without another thought, Rafe puts out his blunt and gets his car keys, glad that he had just started his relaxation so he only had one puff and sip of the possible impairments.

——

Rafe finds his target dancing on the dance floor with a man behind her. The blue-haired man holds her swaying hips and his lips are near her neck. Rafe can feel the heat reach his neck. He quickly pulls the man away from her, ignoring the yip the man lets out. Y/N turns at the loss of the man’s hands on her hips and glows at the sight of Rafe. The angry look on Rafe’s face doesn’t deter her and she lets him drag her to the back of the club, out of sight of other people. The music dampens in the back of the club. Rafe gently slams her back into the wall and he leans his hand above her head. “Now, what game do you think you are playing at, little fox?” Rafe’s anger converts into a smirk as he lustfully looks down at her.

“I don’t know what you are talking about?”

“Ha, don’t play innocent with me. Why are you letting men’s lips near your neck?”

“Just playing a little game, Rafe. I wanna win.”

“Well, if you wanted to win, little fox, then you should’ve called me.” Each word is broken apart with a kiss as he makes his way down her neck towards the necklace. She feels him start to nibble one of the candies like the other men, but unlike the others the sudden feeling of him using his tongue to bring the candy into his mouth causes her to jump. He chuckles at her surprise and makes sure a little more tongue is used to get the next candy.

“You’re only supposed to eat one. That’s how the game w… wor…works.”

She is having a hard time thinking with the feeling of his hot breath on her neck. He takes another candy into his mouth, but when one of the pieces falls onto her breast, she feels her breath hitch as she watches Rafe lean his head down to eat the candy. He places a kiss on the place the candy once was, then licks his way back up to her necklace to continue his destruction of it. “I’m changing the rules. I don’t share my candy.”

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hongjoongspoetry · 4 months

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Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 1 — I’m Just Dreaming Of Tearin’ You Apart

⛸️ Summary: Practicing for the Spring Championship preliminaries with your longtime crush wasn’t something you expected and neither was being treated to coffee by the man you despised most in the world, yet both happened in the span of a week. Besides figure skating competitions and hockey games, your best friends created a game of their own involving money and your love life.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers, but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst, fluff

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), a lot of swearing, petnames (princess), mention of drugs and sex in a joking manner, use of alcohol, chaotic friendship, friendly fights, a lot of side-characters, mingi is a bit of a dick, MDNI!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.5K

⛸️ Author's note: I'm finally uploading this!! I know I said it was going to be an oneshot, but I wrote too much to post it all in one go so I decided to make it into a mini-series instead. There will be five parts to Cold Hands, Warm Heart and I'll upload every Friday starting from today. It's crazy to think I've been writing this whole thing since October last year, like what?!

The first part is more of an introduction to all the characters and me easing you into the plot rather than starting off too strong with the main pairing, so there isn't a lot of scenes with Mingi, but there will be plenty in the future. Anyway, I won't keep you for too long! Enjoy and tell me your thoughts ❤️

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is not for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights, and adult language. Minors, please refrain from reading or interacting with this work!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

The sound of blades against ice and the smell of a freezer empty of food brought you great comfort, and it continued to do so for a century and a half. The ice rink was your second home — not the college or your grandma’s house — heck, you could maneuver the place better than your own home. Abel Korzeniowski’s Charms blasted pleasantly through the speakers in the hall as you stood in the middle of the ice with your hands raised and knees slightly bent. The arena was completely empty, which wasn’t anything weird considering it was six AM on a Monday. You slowly moved across the ice in sync to the music, leaving all your thoughts and worries in the parking lot outside. There were only you and the ice.

As the music gradually picked up its pace, you began doing light spins and jumps. You imagined the arena to be packed with people, their excited eyes following your elegant figure, and cheers going off like cannons after every stunt. In tune with the music reaching its turning point, you propelled yourself up and spun in the air, only for the melody to be abruptly cut off. A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.”

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink.

You masked the expression of hurt and threw a glare towards the music booth planted between the penalty boxes. Rephrasing, you threw a glare at the guy inside the music booth. If there was anything figure skating couldn’t help you with, it was Song Mingi, the right defenceman of the Blue Wolves and the biggest douchebag known to mankind. The mankind in question was you.

“Piss off, Song. The rink is booked until 10 AM.”

The large man leaned into the mic, a smug grin on his stupidly handsome face, “Can’t do sweetheart. We have an upcoming match against the Red Tigers, so we need to practice.”

In three strokes you reached the worn out glass separating you two.

“Listen here, punk,” you breathed out a cloud of fog. “I don’t care what you have or when you have it; the rink is occupied, so take your little pack of chihuahuas and fuck off!”

Mingi made himself comfortable on the chair, hands intertwined behind his neck and long legs perched up on the desk. He was not going anywhere unless it was on that ice.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until you’re done.”

“Wait, wait! He said what?!”

In the midst of retelling the events of your morning, you were interrupted by Keeho. Everything about his judging tone told you he was more than disgusted at the new piece of information and a peek at his face — lips slightly curled, front teeth exposed, and eyes squinted — confirmed your suspicion. Keeho was very vocal with his opinions, vocal and bold, and you picked up on that in the short time you got to know him. That’s why you weren’t surprised to see his hands resting on his hips, adding that sprinkle of sass you both loved and despised.

“Yes!” You exclaimed exasperatedly and bit into your spring roll.

Choi Dasom, your roommate and childhood best friend, wore her signature sweet smile that made her cheeks chubbier and outshone her fiery red hair. She, unlike you and Keeho, was delighted to hear about your terrible morning, especially at the mention of the one-who-shall-not-be-named.

“Wipe that grin off your face, Dasom.”

You squinted at her overly happy expression. There was no malice to your words and if it weren’t for your ten year long friendship she wouldn’t have mustered up an even bigger smile, showing off her pearly whites and dimples. No one could ever be mean to Dasom, one look at her round face and sparkly eyes, and they’d be wrapped around her pinky like a phone cord. She was just that cute. If they somehow managed to look past her cuteness then they'd have to deal with you or Keeho and that was never a pleasant outcome.

The three of you sat criss crossed on the floor of your and Dasom’s shared apartment. An array of takeaway boxes littered the usually clean room as you caught up on each other’s lives; in other words, they listened to your venting about a specific hockey player.

“I just don’t see how this connects to your broken phone screen,” Keeho said and mentioned to the device beside you, sneakily hastening you to get to the ‘juicy part’ as he referred to it.

Too blinded by the simmering anger you waltzed right into Keeho’s trap, granting him new gossip worthy material. Not that he had anyone to share it with besides the two of you, but he liked knowing everyone’s business, something you swore would come and bite him in the ass sooner or later.

“Well, my dear Keeho, wait til you hear the rest of the story.”

The heel of Mingi’s foot hit your phone, hurling it to the ground. A taunting ‘oops’ fell from his lips, but he stayed seated.

“Are you kidding me!” You shouted from inside the rink.

In a flash you were beside Mingi, inspecting your phone for any injuries. A big, singular crack stretched from one end of the screen to the other and you could feel invisible steam erupt from your ears. The phone survived so many concrete collisions and water incidents, but it obviously had to break at Mingi’s hand (or feet).

“Oh, did it crack?”

Mingi stood up, eyes cast on the screen and hands shoved into his gray sweatpants. Not an ounce of concern or remorse crossed his features and you didn’t know what made you more angry - his nonchalance or mere presence.

“Did it crack? Did it crack?!”

“Alright, no need to shout.”

You knew after a full year of constant bickering and mean pranks that Mingi wasn’t all that well. Maybe he got one too many blows to the head, suffered far more concussions than convenient, who knew?

You tried giving him the benefit of the doubt multiple times, which proved to be useless, and it took a broken screen for you to finally realize that. A curse so foul it would have his ancestors turning in their graves rested on your tongue, but as you opened your mouth, a puck aimed at your head was flung at the plexiglas, shutting you up in an instant. The same heinous laughs from earlier echoed around you, this time from inside the rink.

You stood there, phone in hand, and hopelessly stared at the sight before you.

Mingi watched the whole thing play out and didn't say a thing. Not that he had much to say, it was his idea from the start. The guys wouldn't stop complaining about you hogging the ice and the least he could do for his team was to get you off. That way he could also get his daily dose of prancing on your nerves.

It was like killing two birds with one stone.

Until he awkwardly stood there, contemplating whether to apologize or serve you with another snarky reply.

He ran his hand through his ashy blonde hair. All the thinking was starting to tire him out and he just wanted to put on his skates and blow some steam off. You were being unfair. They needed the rink more than you, but you just couldn’t be nice and give in for once.

“No hard feelings, princess.”

“Wow, he really is a dick,” Keeho muttered while examining your phone. “Well, I mean, we already knew that, but I didn’t think he’d be that much of a dick.”

You hummed in agreement as he passed the device to Dasom.

“No, I’ve always known and I’ve been telling you guys so for the past year but no one listens to me.”

“Hey! I do and I’ve always agreed with you; it’s Dasom who’s being poetic and shit.”

The girl giggled at Keeho’s bluntness. “I’m not being poetic, Kyo. I just think there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

You and Keeho exchanged knowing glances, emotionless eyes and lips set into firm lines, silently agreeing she was tuning into her artistic side. Her smile, bright as ever, didn’t falter, and she simply shrugged before slurping down the last of her food. Keeho clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and flickered her forehead.

“Wow, what happened to common decency? Table manners, hello?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. I saw you spit out that chicken,” you butted in with a roll of your eyes.

“It was all rubbery and– ugh. I can’t swallow that!” He defended himself while pointing at the overly chewed piece of chicken on his plate and pushing it closer to your face. You flinched back and hurled, the noise activating Dasom too, and soon you were all in a never-ending fit of retching.

“It’s the last time I let you bring a friend into our circle!”

You recalled the day Dasom introduced you to Keeho and you’ve regretted it ever since, but there were moments you actually found joy in his company and they served as a reminder of why you put up with him in the first place. At the end of the day you still agreed to have study sessions at the library with his nose in a thick literature book and your fingers dancing across your keyboard.

“Can you, I don’t know, not abuse your laptop like that? I can’t concentrate with your loud fingers.”

“You sure it isn’t your thoughts keeping you distracted? I mean, I’d be too if my voice was that annoying.”

Keeho gifted you his signature glare, which you grew immune to. “Okay, first of all ouch and second of all, fuck you, my voice is not annoying or loud for that matter either.”

“Then go back to your reading.”

“I can’t,” he whined and closed his book with a thud, then slid his arm over the table, his cheek resting against his bicep with a pout.

A mere two hours passed since you met up outside the coffee shop closest to the university and not once did he shut up. From ordering your drinks to finding an empty table in the library his mouth worked and at first you saw it as a good thing, thinking he’d run out of things to talk about by the time you started studying. That lasted for about three hundred words in your essay.

“Keeho-ya, go back to reading. We still have some time before your shift starts.”

“I knooooow, but I’m tired and this shit’s boring me out.”

You threw a quick glance at the book he was referring to, Animal Farm, and for once you understood him. The piece wasn’t the most interesting literature in the world and Keeho wasn’t that hard to entertain so it was pretty shit. Books based on real-life stories or romance themed novels were his favorites; anything other than that was a no-go and wouldn’t keep him occupied for more than five minutes.

“Why can’t we read The Outsiders instead? It’s so much better and more realistic. Like, when are pigs ever overthrowing the government?”

You snorted and pushed your laptop aside, taking the book in your hands. The cover did little to lure you in and it was no surprise that Keeho found it boring. He was like a child, giving his undivided attention to anything flashy and colorful. You quickly flipped through the pages and nearly passed out at the never-ending words before putting it back down.

“I’m pretty sure Orwell’s talking about the Russian Revolution back in the nineteen-hundred and the pigs are supposed to represent Trotsky and Stalin.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s still boring and doesn’t really call out to me.”

You hummed in understanding, “You don’t have much of a choice, Kyo. Read it or don’t; you’ll still have to write an essay about it.”

Keeho whined in agony and smacked his forehead against the table, once, twice and on the third smack you hit the back of his head with the book. He jerked back up and rubbed the spot you just whacked, his hand running through his black hair, doing little to soothe the pain.

“What was that for?!”

The librarian, a woman old enough to be your grandmother, shushed him from her desk. Icy eyes were shooting daggers through her half-rimmed glasses and if it weren’t for her age Keeho would challenge her with a glare of his own.

“What was that for?” He repeated but in a whisper, glancing between you and the librarian, checking to see if she heard him now.

“To get you motivated. Now, read,” you hissed and turned back to your work, purposely ignoring the stare of Ms. Bang. She wanted you to shush, then you’d damn well stay shushed.

Keeho sighed obnoxiously and stilled as his gust of air reached your face, but you held your ground and played it off as nothing. You knew if you showed any sign of irritation he’d just continue to annoy you until you caved in and left for the day. With your determination you managed to stay rooted to your seats for a while and if it weren’t for Keeho’s yelp about being late to work, you’d probably be there a little longer. Hastily you threw your stuff in your bag and ran out of the library with Keeho in tow. You didn’t miss the scowling look of Ms. Bang. Knowing she didn’t sign up to deal with annoying brats when applying for her job, you offered her a tight-lipped smile as an apology.

“Tell Dasom I need her help after work!” Keeho shouted and sprinted down the street, not bothering to wait for the reply you still gave him.

“Text her yourself!”

Nonetheless you whipped out your phone and as you were about to unlock it, your eyes fell on the four digitals showing 11:50 AM. A low ‘shit’ slipped past your lips and identical to Keeho, you took off running towards the training facility.

If you weren’t dressed and ready for practice in the next ten minutes, it’d be better if you never showed up. Your coach had a set of ground rules he established the moment you were assigned his trainee fifteen years ago.

Come on time, be presentable and ready.

Have a clear and motivated attitude.

And most important of all, trust your coach.

Jung Hoseok, your coach, wasn’t stern per se. He was a really sweet and kindhearted man who taught you everything you knew about figure skating — from gliding backwards to your first upright spin — you owed this man everything. Although he had a kind soul, a heart shaped smile and dimpled cheeks, you knew better than to defy him. After all, it wasn’t his thoughtful persona that brought him success. Courage, discipline and taking risks did.

Summoning all the cardio exercises done in life, you managed to turn the seven minute journey into five, sparing enough time to change into your practice clothes and skates. The October wind did little to prepare you for the chilly temperature inside; your nose, cheeks and ears were painfully cold despite the thick scarf wrapped around your head.

“In time as usual,” Hoseok commented as you walked out of the changing room, a whistle dangling down his neck and eyes cast on the clipboard in his hands.

“I’d never dare be late for your practice, Coach.”

“And I take pride in that. Now get on the ice, we have a lot to do.”

With that you took off your pink guards and did a little stretching. Routinely you wiped your hands down your thighs, you liked to imagine it as a way of leaving any misfortune off the rink. It was a silly thing you did years ago and it stuck with you since then.

“Again!”

The rite must have lost its charm because everything was going to shit. Not once did you finish the whole number, messing it up halfway through and being forced to go from the top only to fail on the same part.

You huffed out a clouding breath of air and skated back to the center of the rink. Mr. Jung watched you from the sidelines, sporting a frown so big you wanted to cry. His nose faced the ceiling and his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn’t a good sign, how could it be when you were messing up big time? You shied away from his piercing eyes and took your stance, one arm elegantly thrown over your head that followed its direction. The other hand was professionally relaxed by your side and legs steady on the blades. You started slowly just as the video showed you a handful of times. Gliding backwards and forwards, your arms moved in swirls as you gradually picked up the pace. The first jump wasn’t anything extravagant, a simple triple-toe loop.

Easy, you thought after landing and prepared yourself for the next takeoff.

The video you watched with Mr. Jung showed a recording of him doing the Salchow jump going straight into a sit-spin as the music quickened.

It was hard to move to the sound of nothing besides your own breathing and blades scraping against the ice. With music you could at least time yourself better and get lost in the world of imagination. You held your breath as you pushed up from the ice with your right foot, doing a light spin and landing on your other blade then snapped into a sitting position with your left leg connected to the ground. The other was stretched out with its heel facing outward and your arms stacked on top of each other straight out in front of you. After the sixth spin you graciously straightened out your skating leg and stood up, arms moving to your chest and then forward again as you checked out.

You continued sliding around the rink, building up tension and fully catching the attention of the imaginary audience. Your dominant foot continued facing forward and the other turned in the opposite direction, legs squatting to form a square. The core of your body flexed as you arched your back, creating a ‘C’ with your whole being. Cold kisses ghosted along your neck and ears, fingers an inch from the ground. With little to no effort you snapped back into an upright position and prepared yourself for the highlight of the choreography — the part you couldn’t land — a triple axel. The second you saw Mr. Jung’s number, you knew you’d be struggling. You were a good skater, but not a magician. A triple axel would take a lot more than some wishful thinking and an hour of practice.

Did that knowledge lighten the burden on your shoulders? Not in the slightest.

Nonetheless you approached the jump with confidence, the key to every success in life, and prepared yourself to jump. With a steady breath and enough speed you kicked up from the ice and rotated in the air; once, twice, and three times before gravity pulled you down, starting the landing phase. The blade of your skates skimmed the ice and just as you thought you had landed it, you became one with the ground.

Your thigh took the majority of the fall, but it still hurt and if you didn’t know any better you’d think your femur was broken. With shaky legs you stood back up on your skates. A whispered curse slipped out as you rubbed your knuckles along your thigh. You didn’t know what hurt more; falling or failing. The sound of a whistle cut through the arena before you could take your starting position. You halted in place and turned to Mr. Jung who held the same solemn expression throughout the whole number. The walk from the center to him was short and your lips pursed in disappointment. He was cutting practice short. It rarely happened, some days you’d even go over time.

“We’ll stop there for today. I’ll send you the choreography. Study it thoroughly and come mentally prepared next time because we’re not quitting til you land it.”

You fiddled with your fingers and nodded at his words.

“Great, get some rest until then, yeah?”

“I’ll stay a little longer.”

He raised a brow, slightly surprised at your spirit. After your last fall he was sure you’d be frustrated beyond belief, too tired to continue and too angry to give up. He smacked his lips, “Alright, one hour tops. Don’t overwork yourself. Resting is a slow way to success but it’s still a way.”

Before Mr. Jung completely took his leave, he turned to you one more time. “I’ll be back to take my things. If you’re still here by then I’ll make sure you don’t attend the competition at all, understood?”

You jumped into a military stance, back straight and fingers pushed against the side of your head.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

You deflated the moment his figure disappeared behind the big metal doors. After fifteen years of skating under his watchful eyes, you knew his threat wasn’t an empty promise. Leave it to Mr. Jung to make you anxious about the competition months before D-Day. You squished your cheeks between your hands and delivered two slaps to each side of your face.

“C’mon, focus.”

Ten tries, ten fails and ten bruises later zero progress was made. One would think you’d do better without Mr. Jung’s breathing down your neck like a dragon, but there you were barely landing a single axel. You were one fail away from ripping your hair out.

“Fuck me sideways. What the fuck is my problem?”

Skating with a jumbled mind would do you no good, so with a quick breathing practice you pushed all your thoughts aside and tried again. You swore it would be your last try before going home.

Starting position. Triple-toe loop. Salchow jump into a sit-spin. Double axel.

The muscles in your thighs and abdomen burned, begging you to stop. Before you could plummet to your knees and throw a mini-tantrum, clapping sounds echoed in the silent hall. You jerked your head up with a scowl on your face. The person had to be taunting you; nothing about that was applause worthy.

The last person you expected to encounter on a Tuesday afternoon, let alone receive praise from, was Hwang Hyunjin. The prettiest guy on campus. He looked just like the day you first saw him, unbelievably handsome. The top half of his black hair was hiding beneath a beanie; the rest fell to his neck and some strands obscured his face. A face sculpted by Phidas himself. Pink plump lips, big eyes and a slim nose. Taking in his relaxed form, eyes quickly roving over his broad chest and down to his slim waist, you thanked the heavens that he wasn’t your coach. You wouldn’t survive one session with him leaning against the border, hands gripping the border and veins appearing on his pale forearms, eyes trailing after you.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as he waved. The charming smile he gave you warmed your cheeks as a smile of your own grew. It was no wonder girls swooned over him, he truly was beautiful and this was him dressed in a simple black shirt and tights. He looked even better dressed up. Inching closer to where he was, you grabbed the railing and held onto it for dear life. Your legs wobbled like Bambi on ice and you weren’t ready to fall flat on your ass in front of your crush and fellow figure skater. A timid ‘hi’ fell from your lips and your heart landed a perfect triple axel as he greeted you back.

“Your program is great.”

You giggled like a schoolgirl and bashfully looked away, and then back at him again. “It’s not even near what it’s supposed to look like.”

This was the most you said to each other in the span of a year. You never did much talking besides polite ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ coming and going from the rink yet you knew more about him than your childhood best friend.

“Really?”

You mustered up a nod, afraid to embarrass yourself with words.

“Do you mind if I join you then?”

Whatever you did in your past life to earn this must have been something noble, perhaps serving a king or saving a village from starvation. You nodded again, your lips perking up and eyes shining with excitement. As Hyunjin faced away from you to put his skates on, you buried your head in your hands and bit back a worrisome squeal.

“By the way I’m not like doing this to coach you or anything. I just thought you looked a bit… distracted and could use some help to loosen up.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I could really use the help, coach or not.”

He huffed a soft chuckle at your honesty and skated to the center of the rink with you behind.

“I’m happy to be of service.”

He mockingly bowed and you allowed yourself to laugh, feeling your whole body heat up despite the cool arena air.

“Okay, so put this on.”

Hyunjin handed you his beanie and your eyes widened as the rest of his hair fell around his face. You wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. You gently pinched the black material between your hands — even his clothes were soft to the touch — and put it on. Hyunjin hummed as it covered your ears and head, then he gingerly reached out and pushed it over your eyes.

“Can you see anything?”

“No.”

“Perfect. Just stay right there,” he said, his blades cutting the surface grew more and more distant by the second. There was a lot of trust put in his hands and you were starting to feel foolish, standing there like a stick figure with an expensive cap covering your sight.

“Do you hear me?”

Your head snapped towards his voice and you nodded.

“Okay, come find me.”

The whole time you cautiously moved along the slippery ice you couldn’t help but think how silly it must look for outsiders. You conclude that if it weren’t for Hyunjin and your stuttering heart, you’d never agree to this. He continued speaking out in the open, some sentences long and others consisting of a word or two. Getting the hang of skating blindfolded you sped up, arms stretched out in case of toppling over and as you were about to give up, your left hand came in contact with a warm surface.

Hastily you snatched the hat off your head and blinked fast at the bright lightning. Your heart stilled as you looked into Hyunjin’s scrunched eyes, a wide and dare you say proud smile overtaking his features. The cold air nipped at his rosy cheeks and nose, even his ears, and your fingers itched to cover them.

“Found me,” he chuckled at your struck expression, parted lips and raised brows. “Wanna go again?”

The game continued for a few more rounds and with every new try you channeled your concentration better. On top of that you trusted your other senses to get you across the ice without flying head first. Best of all you weren’t as flustered around Hyunjin anymore. The eye contact lasted longer and you weren’t a stuttering mess. The last round was going great. It was your fastest game yet. As Hyunjin called your name you thrusted your arm out, practically flinging yourself forward. Your fingers clasped around the air and not the warmth of Hyunjin’s body you expected. A panicked gasp died in your throat as your feet flew under you and back gravitated towards the ground. You braced yourself — as much as one could do — for a concussion. Instead of feeling the hard ground, arms wrap around you. One hand resting between your shoulder blades and the other on your lower back.

“Gotcha,” Hyunjin whispered.

On instinct you grabbed his shoulders and pulled yourself closer to him, chests nearly touching and noses inches away. You could see a faint beauty mark below his eye, a feature you hadn’t known of before and heat rose to your cheeks at the sudden proximity.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out as he moved you upright, his hands respectfully resting against your hips while yours slid around his neck. Your head turned downward, too nervous to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth, but you didn’t get to hear what he had to say as an agitating voice beat him to it.

“So the princess finally found her prince.”

You jumped from Hyunjin’s hold, his hands falling to his sides, creating a space big enough for two other people between you with your head whipping towards the entrance where a familiar figure stood, tall and bulky. The sly smirk painting his chiseled face was a sharp contrast to your scowling lips and wrinkled nose.

“And I see you’ve yet to find your manners.”

Something about Song Mingi brought out the devil in you.

“You just have to ask nicely or is that too hard for you?”

The fifteen equally bulky guys all dressed in red and black gear behind him laughed at his remark. Children, they were a bunch of children.

You threw them a glare they were more than acquainted with and in a poor attempt at masking your embarrassment, you kept your head down and stomped out of the rink, and walked through the group of guys that separated like a shoal of fish afraid of a great white shark. With record speed you grabbed your stuff and bolted for the changing rooms. Not once did you stop to think about the beautiful figure skater you left behind as your mind was occupied with intriguing images of delivering punches to the whole hockey team, starting from the shortest to the tallest.

Bag slung over your shoulder and hands tucked deep in the pockets of your jacket, you strutted out of the arena. There was no way you’d head home now. Dasom had a group project she’d work on until late and you didn’t feel like being alone knowing the violent sound of bodies colliding and pucks sliding across ice would taunt you in the silence.

The bell above the ice cream parlor dinged as you stepped inside. The pleasant smell of freshly baked cones and vanilla extract hit you hard. The customers inside brushed you off, too immersed in their milkshakes and desserts to care about a girl with a scowl.

“Hello and welcome to Kim’s ice cream parlor. How can I help you this fine ev– what the hell are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, Kyo,” you greeted, dropping your bag on the floor by the counter seats.

“Bad practice?”

“Try a bad day.”

You propped your elbows on the desk and tiredly leaned your chin on the palms of your hands. Keeho hummed, already preparing your usual order.

“Y’know I’m always up for some tea, but Jiung called in sick today so we’re one man short.”

You tried your best not to visibly deflate. The one time you needed to vent and get it out of your system no one was there.

“That’s okay. S’nothing a banana split can’t fix, I guess.”

“Coming right up, sweetcheeks. It’s on the house just for you.”

New customers filled the little shop and you noticed your presence by the counter was still distracting Keeho so you did everyone a big favor and moved to a vacant seat by the big windows. The ice cream went down your throat and found its new home in your stomach. You’d usually be more strict with your food intake, having to be a certain weight and whatnot but some days just couldn’t be helped, especially when practice left you feeling like the biggest failure in the world and if that wasn’t enough then Mingi’s presence was a good enough reason to treat yourself.

Before taking your leave you sent Keeho a smile; he reciprocated and positioned his hand up to his cheek, the thumb and pinky finger extended in opposite directions. You chuckled at the gesture but nodded nonetheless. One way or another Keeho would end up hearing about your shitty day.

“Hello,” you called out as you gently threw your keys in the strawberry-shaped bowl — a housewarming gift by yours truly, Yoon Keeho — on the console table by the entrance.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

You carelessly shrugged your coat off, allowing it to drop to the floor by your shoes and bag, before running off in her direction. Dasom softly hummed to a song playing on her laptop and you immediately relaxed as the melody reached your ears. There wasn’t a dent of worry in her life and you were grateful for that. At least one of you was in a good mood.

“Hey Dae-Dae,” you exhaled and plopped down on one of the four chairs around your dining table.

Dasom wore a pink apron decorated with a big white heart over her knitted sweater and jeans, with a pair of matching mittens covering her hands. The apron was more for show than shielding her clothes from baking.

“I’m baking cookies.”

Minutes later you were sitting on the kitchen floor with a big plate of chocolate chip cookies between you and a cup of milk each. You picked up a cookie and moaned at its aroma of caramelized sugar and chocolate. Nevermind the banana split you inhaled twenty minutes ago, you were treating yourself for the rest of the night.

“How did the project go?”

Dasom took a long sip of her milk trying to hide the way her lips curled upward. You nudged her thigh with your toe and wiggled your brows.

“It’s exciting, a bit out of my comfort zone, but it’s still fun. We are actually working with the art majors. Everyone’s partnered with someone from the opposite class.” She dipped a cookie in her cup before continuing, “So the art majors have to write a poem about passion while we, creative writing majors, have to paint it.”

“So the roles are reversed and how are you being graded on that exactly? Like no offense Dasom, but you kind of suck at drawing.”

“See that’s what I thought too, but the professors said we shouldn’t focus on how good our drawings are, but rather what it is we try to convey. Plus, they said we are paired up for a reason, so I guess we are supposed to ask each other for help?”

You hummed in understanding, it made more sense when she put it that way. “So who are you partnered with?”

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“The weird guy with the blue hair?”

“It’s black and white now, and he’s not weird, just… unobtrusive. Hongjoong’s actually kind,” she defended.

“Mmm, I don’t know Dae-Dae, it sounds awfully close to what you say about Mingi.”

Her invisible dog ears perked up and her tail wiggled excitedly from left to right. The hockey player was only ever mentioned after a run-in with the guy, both Keeho and Dasom knew that.

“Don’t keep me waiting!”

With another bite of your fourth cookie you spilled everything like an overflowing bucket. Starting from the study session to the unsuccessful practice and Hoseok’s disappointed look to the sweetest and most unreal moment with Hyunjin that was later ruined by Mingi–

“Oh my God!”

Dasom dropped her cookie and jerked back, not expecting you to shriek like a banshee. “What?!”

The sudden realization of whose presence you forgot in the rink hit you like a truck. An uncomfortable heat twisted your guts as your thoughts began to spiral. You buried your head in your hands and as if that wasn’t enough he witnessed you explode on the whole hockey team, heard Mingi’s embarrassing taunts and watched you run out.

“My outburst! I completely forgot about Hyunjin!”

“Oh…”

A silence settled over the kitchen. Neither of you knew what to say because what could one say in moments like these? A pat on the back and a somber smile would suffice although it wouldn’t ease your worries. A few seconds passed and Dasom eventually cleared her throat.

“You know what could be even worse? Like the cherry on top?”

Like a child, you peeked from behind your fingers. Eyes heavy and lips in a pout, “What?”

“Starting your period.”

Your childhood friend possessed an extravagant vocabulary with a cupboard full of advanced words and phrases. She could easily go on a poetic rampage about how you should see things from the brighter side or that some things happen for a reason. Yet she settled on a simplicity she knew would make you crack a smile.

“Amen to that.”

You clinked your cups in a toast and downed the rest of the liquid like a shot. Milk clung to your upper lips like a childish white mustache and you broke out in laughter, pointing a finger to your index finger pointed at each other’s faces.

“I was thinking–”

“Uh oh, that never ends well.”

Dasom pouted and delivered a soft kick to your thigh. “Anyway, I was thinking we could have a girls’ night on Friday. Keeho’s invited too, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you chimed.

“We can paint our nails, watch movies and eat a lot of snacks. Whatcha say?”

Mentally picturing the schedule of the week, you figured you’d need a day off and agreed to her idea.

The sharp noise of a whistle blew through the arena and the eighteen guys clad in hockey gear and skates gathered along the centerline. The first half of the players got into position and awaited the second signal from their coach while the rest of the team stood behind their designated partner. As the high-pitched sound cut through the silence, the first batch bolted from their marks and the remaining guys shimmied closer to the line.

There were a lot of fun things about hockey, like boarding your opponent or shutting down their offenses. The lesser good was receiving penalties or a game misconduct, but the absolutely worst thing about hockey was the cardio exercises.

When Mingi signed up for hockey practice at the age of five, he didn’t think much would come out of it. He was too uncoordinated with his legs to play soccer and his towering height didn’t make him any better at basketball either, but hockey on the other hand… Everyone was clumsy when it came to skating on ice. Like newborn foals, they were all shaking on their skates with hockey gear too big for their little bodies and barely able to locate the puck through the grid on their heads, Mingi managed just fine. The gnawing thoughts of standing out and being the worst amongst his peers wasn’t something little Mingi entertained anymore. Instead, he focused on growing and being better at the sport he actually enjoyed playing. As he got older, hockey got more serious and his interest for the sport broadened. His role model changed from his dad to Kim Kisung, and his big collection of Pokemon cards was replaced by hockey ones instead.

The dunk of a gloved hand collided with his back and Mingi took off like a rocket. He wasn’t the fastest or the most agile on the team, but he was great at using his height to crush explosive little wingers and it was the secret recipe of what kept him able to go for so long in games. There was no bigger joy than putting a stop to other’s plays and when there wasn’t anyone to stop or pucks to steal, the hockey Mingi loved was something he loathed. The ripping and slicing of multiple blades on ice sounded through the arena and despite working out five out of seven days of the week, Mingi still felt out of breath as he stopped a few steps over the centerline.

“A new lap is added for each player that slows down!” The old man standing by the entrance barked.

Mingi could feel all eyes turn to him and if he wasn’t so busy catching his own breath, he’d gift them all with a good ol’ ‘go fuck yourselves’.

“You heard the man, Song. Don’t let him catch you slowing down.”

Turning his head to the right, the smug face of Jungkook came into view. Jungkook was a prime example of little wingers Mingi expertised in crushing. The player (both off and on court) behaved like the youngest of the team, despite being one of Mingi’s seniors, which gave him immunity to everyone’s wrath.

“Don’t make me remind you how it’s to be sent flying into the borders, JK.”

Throwing a quick glance at their coach, Jungkook smacked Mingi in the back of his head, which did little to no damage and only meant the helmet was doing its job of protecting Mingi from concussions.

“It’s Jungkook-hyung for you, brat.”

“Song! Jeon! Less talking, more skating!”

There was in fact not less talking and more skating, and the penalty resulted with three more laps for the rest of the team and a bunch of curses hurled at the instigators.

“I don’t get why you just don’t ignore him,” Intak complained as he wrapped a white towel around his waist and ran his hand through his wet strands.

Mingi followed suit, his own towel similarly tied around his waist and another smaller one thrown over his head soaking up the water dripping from his hair.

“You know how he is,” Mingi defended and plopped down on the bench to easier rummage through his bag for a change of clothes. “He’d just say something else until I finally explode.”

“I know, but bro, we’ve been doing bag skates for weeks now. One of you has to give in and it’s gotta be you.”

Living up to his zodiac sign, Mingi was awfully stubborn and a sore loser, there was no way he’d ever let up.

“Yeah, sure I might as well let him trample all over me while we’re at it.”

Intak, who moved over to the square mirror attached to the wall, caught Mingi’s eyes in the reflection and his own widened as an imaginary light bulb popped over his head. Adjusting his red cap — a stark contrast to his bleached hair — he turned around and his mouth formed into a suppressed smirk that looked something between puckered lips and a smile. Weirded out by the smuggish-look on his friend’s face, Mingi reeled back and raised a brow.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason, no reason at all.”

“He probably just clocked why that figure skater puts up with your dumb shit,” Matthew or BM, as everyone referred to him as, answered and plopped down on the vacant spot between them.

BM was one of the guys who challenged Mingi in both height and mass. They were similar in body proportion, but BM carried more muscle and had a few years on him, not to mention he was a force to be reckoned with in the defense zone. Definitely a key player of the Blue Wolves.

“Puts up with my dumb shit?”

“Yeah, all that teasin’ and makin’ fun of her.”

Scratching the back of his head, Mingi didn’t quite get what they meant. He wasn’t really making fun of you per se. They were just harmless jokes and, well, you did actually hog the rink for the past few weeks and you were so easy to rile up.

Throwing a black hoodie over his head, BM filled the silence that came with Mingi’s thinking. “I get she’s cute, but we’re past that boys-pick-on-girls-they-like typa bullshit.”

“I don’t think she’s cute,” Mingi retaliated.

“Nah, every girl is a lil cute and that one is definitely cute.”

“What’s this? Tea time and you don’t invite the Jeon Jungkook?” The winger threw an arm around Mingi’s shoulder, and a whiff of fabric softener and pear reached his sinuses.

“Didn’t need to, we knew you’d invite yourself anyway,” Mingi muttered and jabbed a thumb into the older’s side that immediately freed him from the unpleasant hold.

Jungkook scrambled to the opposite side, legs spread wide and forearms falling back on the wooden railing of the bench.

“Don’t be mean just because you can’t talk to girls like the rest of us.”

Growing more agitated the longer the conversation went on, Mingi threw his stinky jersey at Jungkook and snapped, “The fuck you mean I can’t talk to girls?”

“Last time I checked, you don’t need to fuck up a girl’s phone to get her number, but I do have to say it’s an interesting technique. Tell me how it goes for ya, why don’t you?” Jungkook scrunched the shirt into a ball and threw it back at its owner, who caught it with ease.

“Oh, fuck you. It was an accident.”

Another arm wrapped around Mingi’s neck and his face was pushed up against a clothed torso. The unpleasant and slightly painful feel of someone’s knuckled rubbing against the top of his head pulled out a string of winces.

“First you can’t talk to girls and now you’re disrespecting your elders? C’mon, Mango, don’t make me hand you your ass,” BM threatened with a grin, showing off his overly white teeth.

“Yah, that hurts!” Mingi somehow managed to escape BM’s iron grip and caressed his hair back into place.

“Serves you right, you punk.”

“I think Jungkook-hyung’s right though. Like, don’t you think it’s a bit excessive? I mean, yeah she’s annoying and shit, but dude, fucking up her phone?” Intak voiced as he zipped up his jacket and slung his bag around one shoulder.

“It was an accident and it’s not like I’m the only one to blame. You guys were in on it too!”

The deep chuckle of Jungkook diverted everyone’s attention to him. “We agreed on you distracting her, not destroying her things, baby chick. She’s better than me, if I was her and a guy did that to me, I’d be fuming.”

“Yeah, but what about that time she spilled apple juice on my shirt. On my favorite shirt!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t taken the last drink, her favorite drink in fact, what was it again?”

“Strawberry milk,” Mingi answered without missing a beat and had everyone taken back at the quick reply.

“...Anyway, as I was saying. If you hadn’t taken the last of her favorite drink in the cafeteria, she wouldn’t have poured the apple juice all over you.”

“So that excuses it!?”

BM stood up with Intak and Jungkook in tow, all dressed and ready to leave except for Mingi who still sat in his boxers and just a pair of socks on his feet.

“Considering you’ve been a douche toward her… Yes, yes it does,” BM answered and tucked the hood over his neon green hair.

“When was I a douche toward her?”

“Jeez, I don’t know how ‘bout the time she nearly fell on her ass and you made that whole prince charming comment. What was that about anyway?”

Jungkook butted in and leaned against BM. “Yeah, what was that about? You jealous of the prince snatching your girl, Song?”

“She’s not my girl and I’m not jealous of a guy doing some loops on ice and calling it a sport…”

The rowdy boys quietened down at the sudden jab. Books and movies presented hockey players to have a burning hatred for figure skaters, and while that could be true, it wasn’t necessarily amongst the Blue Wolves. They didn’t really care all that much about the sport or the athletes, but they knew the amount of hard work and effort that went into figure skating, making it a hobby far more respected than soccer. They also knew that Mingi wasn’t really thinking that and only let his fiery thoughts get the best of him. Nonetheless, it wasn’t cool and while they were already on the path of calling him out, why not follow through.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

Jaw going slack, Mingi threw his hands out towards Intak. “So I get shit for calling you guys nicknames, but he gets to outright call me a dick?!”

“Did he lie tho?”

One after another, they left the changing room with Jungkook getting the last word.

“Better hurry, baby chick, or you’ll be late for class! Remember, girls may like dicks, but not when you’re acting like one.”

Balancing between schoolwork and perfecting the triple axel, you hadn’t even noticed how quickly Wednesday and Thursday flew by. Keeho burst through your door with grocery bags in his hands and a giggly Dasom hot on his heels, a little Hello Kitty tote bag hanging off her shoulder.

“Bow down bitches, bow-bow down bitches!”

Quite literally you fell off the sofa, legs tangled in your soft blanket and some drool on the side of your face.

“What the–”

“Wake up sleepyhead, it’s time to partyyyy,” Keeho hollered and raised the plastic bags in the air. The various bottles of alcohol, chips and popcorn reminded you what day it was.

While Dasom and Keeho prepared things in the kitchen, you were ushered to the bathroom to ‘wash the drowsiness away’ as Keeho worded it. They lasted five minutes without creating chaos and by the time you returned Keeho was sliding across your kitchen with his pink fuzzy socks on, dancing to Lady Gaga’s Monster while Dasom whipped together a peanut butter cookie batter.

You were still not entirely awake and couldn’t decide if everything was just a crazy dream or not. Without giving it another thought you threw a bag of dried kernels into your microwave and helped Dasom with the baking.

“Oh, can you like make this pinky have a red heart and the other a green one?”

Dasom nodded at Keeho’s question and gently blew on his white nails. You watched them from your seat on the couch, patiently waiting for your turn. Keeho lay on his stomach, legs dangling in the air, and Dasom sat in a pretzel position with various nail polishes and pearls scattered in small bowls on the floor.

“We are having so much fun you guys.”

“Stay still please.”

“Sorry, Dae-Dae.”

A game of rock-paper-scissors decided who painted whose nails. You groaned as Keeho won and chose Dasom to fix his, leaving your fingers in his hands. It was no surprise that Keeho’s turned out to be the prettiest and yours the ugliest. Out of the three of you, he was the shittiest artist with Dasom as a close second but at least her hands were steady.

“Okay, as the winner I say we watch Coraline.”

“Slow down, you won for the nails not the movie.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh! Dasom tell him.”

After another game of rock-paper-scissors and another victory for Keeho, you had no choice but to put the movie on despite your protests about Halloween being a month away.

“It’s probably a shit movie anyway,” you said and leaned into Keeho’s side, repositioning your head so it was comfortable against his shoulder. Dasom found herself in a similar position on the other side. You each cradled a bowl of popcorn and chips.

“...You haven’t seen Coraline?”

“Uhm, was I supposed to?”

“Were you supposed to?! I should smack you right into the Other World with your Other Mother!”

Your brows rose at his comment. A bit confused as to what this Other World was and why he referred to your mom as the Other Mother.

“Smack me and I’ll have the cops on you faster than you can say–”

“Big boobs?”

A pinch of his bicep between your thumb and forefinger quickly shut him up and Dasom took it as her cue to dim the lights and start the film. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, sure it was a bit sad, dramatic and hectic even, but not enough to work your tear ducts.

“Honestly speaking, and I mean honestly speaking, the Other Mother is kinda hot.”

“I wish you knew when to shut up.” You pushed Keeho and stuffed his mouth with popcorn. Dasom giggled at how quick the atmosphere changed, but then shushed you as the movie took a dark turn.

“Ya, ya. Whatever.” Keeho stood up and cracked his back before turning the lights back on, completely ignoring Dasom’s whiny protests. “You know what this calls for? Some driiiiinks!”

In seconds the night turned from a chill girls’ night to a full blown party.

A widely popular song blasted from Keeho’s portable speaker and he couldn’t help but swing along to the sound. His ears were a burning red after two bottles of soju, but the rest of his face was white as snow. Dasom, on the other hand, looked pretty flushed all over. Her cheeks were as red as her hair and she could barely stand up without falling on her ass. She was alright though, her never ending giggles told you that. She was a cute drunk, unlike Keeho who was crazy and had you constantly reminding him why he couldn’t twerk on your coffee table.

“Y’know…” Keeho flung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. The sweet smell of strawberry soju on his tongue was pleasant to your nose. “Hyunjin asked about you today.”

The statement immediately sobered you up and the dizziness wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. They both saw a spark of hope light up in your eyes and Dasom ‘oohed’ as you whipped your head towards Keeho. You licked your lips and dried your clammy hands on your trousers.

The only thing they had in common was being seniors and last time you checked Keeho wasn’t acquainted with any of Hyunjin’s friends either. They had no reason to converse — one being an arts major and figure skater while the other was studying English literature and was a cheerleader — besides you.

“Really?”

He hummed and sluggishly continued talking, you could barely make out what he was saying. “He ash-ked if you were-rer alrigh-t.”

Another teasing hoot came from Dasom which Keeho chimed in on with a squeeze to your shoulder. Your face burned and you knew damn well it wasn’t because of the alcohol flowing through your veins.

“An–and what did you say?” You fanned your face. It was really getting hot in there and Keeho’s clinginess wasn’t helping you.

As the song faded into the next one Keeho gasped at the familiar lyrics coming from the speakers and immediately untangled himself from you to turn the volume up.

“I love this song!”

He grabbed Dasom by her hands and twirled her around the room, her childish giggles mixing in with the funky beat and Keeho’s loud singing. In any other circumstance you’d be angry at how absentminded he was, but the boy gave you some good information and was thus easily forgiven. The thought of Hyunjin asking about you was surreal. You were certain your prissy attitude would change his perception of you — whatever that was you didn’t know — but apparently not. More heat crawled up your spine, making your cheeks burn uncomfortably. You pressed your cold hands to your face in an attempt to cool down.

Your mouth broke out into a huge grin when it finally dawned on you.

Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you.

The rest of the night was a blur and some moments were faintly secured in your memory. You remember dancing, singing, laughing and drinking. A lot of drinking. A never-ending buzz sounded through the whole apartment. With a moan of agony you pulled the covers over your head and snuggled violently against the cushions of the sofa. Suddenly it went quiet and you exhaled in relief. Thinking you’d be able to squeeze in another hour of sleep, you turned around only to groan again as the noise came back.

“Why do you have the alarm on? It’s Saturday,” Keeho said, a tint of annoyance in his grogginess.

“I have to… meet up for ah… projec–th. Can’t be late.”

Whoever invented alcohol should be charged with decapitation for not inventing a cure for hangovers.

“What the hell did you put in our drinks, Kyo?” You arose from your position on the couch, lightly clutching your throbbing head. All your limbs ached and you wished the world would go back to sleep again.

“Uh– don’t ask me. I don’t even know my name right now.”

The rest of the morning was spent puking and shuffling with blankets wrapped around you like tortillas. None of you were up for small talk, the hangover clung to you like never before and you collectively blamed Keeho for buying so much soju.

“Oh, shut it. You’re at least well enough to talk. Poor Dae-Dae can’t even open her eyes.”

Said girl grunted out a noise of agreement and gratitude as Keeho gently placed a wet rag on the upper part of her face. True to his words, Dasom was faring the worst. She always struggled with alcohol, both in downing it and the aftermath.

“You shouldn’t drink if you’re going to be this cranky,” you said matter-of-factly and massaged Dasom’s calves.

He gave you a nasty look and rolled his eyes. “Whatever! I’m taking a shower, losers.”

“What a douche.”

Dasom grunted again, her way of telling you to be nice.

“Yeah, yeah, go back to sleep or you’ll drool all over your project.”

As the minute hand showed five minutes to eleven you gathered all the empty soju bottles in a bag and gave them to Keeho, a polite way of kicking him out, and then pushed Dasom to take a shower before she took her leave. With those two out of your hair, you turned to the living room and took in the sight of chaos. There were crumbs, glitter and drops of alcohol on the floor and coffee table, nail polish everywhere and nowhere, and dishes in places you never thought you’d see. You pulled back the invisible sleeves of your nightgown and began cleaning up the mess. On a positive note you didn’t have to throw the trash out and could immediately start with the dishes. Then you vacuumed the living room after wiping down every crevice you could reach and continued into the bathroom. To your luck Keeho didn’t puke his intestines out, only Dasom who still had a sense of direction in her hazy state so the toilet seat wasn’t drenched in her stomach acid and lunch. While you were at it you changed the sheets in your bedroom and loaded the washing machine with clothes from your and Dasom’s bedrooms.

At last you too jumped in the shower and stayed there until the warm water ran out. With a tub of ice cream and a towel wrapped around your head, you relaxed in bed. A fresh set of pajamas clung to your body as you wiggled under the clean covers. God, how you missed your bed and privacy.

By the time you were done with the ice cream and two movies of a random trilogy, the sky turned a pretty dark color which reminded you of last night’s shenanigans. You glanced down at your fingers and laughed at the badly painted nails. The second Keeho laid eyes on the dark blue nail polish — or galaxy blue according to him — he announced his masterplan; a galaxy theme. The first coat was alright, but then as he got his hands on the silver glitter everything went downhill. Your nails were uneven, some having more blue and others drowning in glitter. There was nothing you could do about it or he’d sulk for a week straight, claiming you weren’t a real friend and favored Dasom over him which wasn’t not true but he didn’t need to know that.

As you started the third movie your phone went off with a ding. Your heart fluttered inside your chest when you picked up the phone and saw who was disturbing your ‘me-time’.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] hey it’s hyunjin

The spoon full of melted ice cream slipped from your hands right onto your lavender sheets. A low ‘fuck’ echoed in the room at the same time as you received one more message.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] keeho gave me your number

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss his cheeks or strangle him. Partially grateful, partially annoyed. Grateful Keeho had half a mind to slip Hyunjin your number and was annoyed that he completely forgot to tell you about this little piece of information during his drunken dancing.

With shaky hands you tapped in a reply and immediately facepalmed as you hit the send button.

You [07:39 PM] Hi Hyunjin :3

Before you could rip your hair out at the choice of emoticon, the front door opened and a cheery Dasom stumbled into your bedroom with rosy cheeks and hair slightly disheveled, looking like a combination of flustered and cold that you didn’t put a lot of thought into.

Cutting right to the case, you said, “Hyunjin texted me.”

She let out a squeal of pure joy and leapt onto your bed, her heavy book bag forgotten on the tidy floor as she pried noisily on your phone.

Hyunjin [07:40 PM] you up for another practice tgt?

“Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes!” She shook your arm violently, phone barely staying in your hands.

You [07:40 PM] That’d be nice

The device was flung across your bed, landing face down as you both sat in silence. It lasted for five seconds until another message came through. You cast a glance at Dasom who was already looking at you, and then in slow motion you both dove for the phone. She landed on top of you, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs, but you came out the winner with your hands wrapped around the phone.

“I’m scared,” you confessed and pulled the phone up to your chest. A nervous smile tugged at your lips.

“Just look!”

Hyunjin [07:42 PM] you free this friday, 9 am?

You angled the screen so Dasom could look too.

“What do I say?”

“What do you say?” She smiled. “Yes, of course!”

“I mean obviously, but how do I say it? I don’t want to come off too excited.”

She gestured grabby-hands and you handed her the phone. Her thumbs flew across the digital keyboard and she bit down on her bottom lip, suppressing her giggles. You’d be giggling with her if it wasn’t your fate in her hands. She returned the phone and dashed to her room.

You [07:42 PM] Lucky you, I can just squeeze you into my packed schedule

Hyunjin [07:43 PM] see you then busy girl

You scanned the message twice to make sure you read it correctly.

“Dasom!”

Her childish giggle could be heard all the way from her room and if it weren’t for your heart almost bursting out of your chest you’d show her a thing or two about loyalty. Instead you hid under the covers. A big, warm tingling sensation filled your stomach and spread to your beating organ. You couldn’t stop thinking about the messages, picturing Hyunjin saying those things in real life. It had you kicking your feet like those lovesick girls in movies and you didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night.

If fifteen years of school taught you anything it was to never have high expectations. Big dreams and hopes were destined to be crushed and you could confidently vouch for that, yet there you were; with your head in the clouds and heart on your sleeves thinking this week would be the best week of your life.

As if sensing happiness floating in the lecture hall, your professor burst your bubble with one decision. The essay he assigned for Saturday was moved to Friday with the deadline at twelve PM. Your original plan of doing absolutely nothing all week and writing it in one sitting on Friday was already altered because of Hyunjin and now you had to change it again. Instead of spending your Wednesday morning huddled in bed with a warm beverage watching the latest episode of your new kdrama, you were in the library under the watchful eyes of Ms. Bang.

The library was full of students. You stood idly by the door and scanned the room for a vacant seat or table to squeeze into. Finals were just around the corner and everyone had the great idea of revising material before and after school hours. At last you found an empty table big enough for two and quickly skirted around the hoard of people, praying to reach it before anyone else.

A confetti popper went off in your head as you sat down. All you had to do now was get started which was easier said than done. The caret on the blank document ticked like a bomb, reminding you of the time you wasted thinking about nothing yet seeming so deep in thought. With narrowed eyes and lips in an angry pout, no one dared to occupy the chair in front of you.

That no one turned into someone.

You didn’t feel them sit down in the vacant seat. You didn’t see them, too occupied having a stare-off with your laptop. One moment there was no one there and the next moment a six foot-something tall hockey player plopped down from the sky, probably being outcast from heaven.

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. You huffed as he made the moss green knitted sweater look good, even though it was ugly.

You sighed and kissed your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Although he tried acting offended, the sly smirk he didn’t bother hiding told you otherwise. You averted your gaze back to your computer. His face was starting to annoy you.

“What do you mean?” He asked ever so innocently.

“This table, my table. Why are you here?”

“The library is a public space and I’m here to study.”

You chuckled as if it were funny. “Since when do you study, Song?”

“Careful, princess or I’ll think you’re interested in me. Asking all these questions, what’s next you’ll ask for my phone number?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Mingi leaned on the table and rested his sharp chin against the palm of his hand. He suggestively ran his fingers through his creme colored highlights and grinned wolfishly.

“Your place or mine?”

Your knee hit the underside of the table jarring Mingi’s water bottle. Pain flared and you bit back a wince, hastily rubbing against the jeans-clad skin. You didn’t miss the aggravated look Ms. Bang gave you.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

The glare you shot him worked like a domino effect as he raised one brow menacingly asking, “What did I do?”

“If you’re gonna sit here then be quiet. I’m only tolerating you for so long, Song.”

“Didn’t peg you for a rapper, princess.”

“Don’t,” you drove your feet into his shin, “call me that.”

The table jerked again — twice as much — and you received yet another disapproving stare from the librarian, but you didn’t care. The revenge was satisfying and you couldn’t help but marvel at his temporary pain. Your first thought as he sat down was that you’d be at each other’s throats, but to your surprise there wasn’t any bloodshed. Silence took over the table as you both worked diligently, and it was only possible because you were still ignoring each other’s presence. Sometimes you’d peek at him and be taken back at how calm and gentle he looked. The smirk you despised was nowhere to be seen, his lips parted in concentration and his eyes were void of any malice. They were warm like your morning coffee and as soft as the sand on Daecheon Beach.

“Is my handsome face distracting you?”

Then the thin line between tolerating and accepting was blurred, leaving you to work with nothing.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah, you are. Especially at night…when I’m alone with no one to fix my–”

“I swear to God if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you hissed through your teeth and slammed your hand on the table.

The ruckus was drowned out by the sound of multiple fingers tapping against keyboards and the haste of flipping pages, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ms. Bang. She hushed you with a long ‘shhh’ and you gulped and sank in your seat with Mingi’s broad figure hiding you from her. The woman probably hated you by now. If it wasn’t Keeho who got you into trouble then it was some other idiot.

You couldn’t stand Mingi and he lived to annoy you, but there was an unspoken understanding to put your differences aside for the time being. With another try, you returned to the empty screen and he went back to his. The silent and unofficial pact lasted for a hot minute.

“You know, I don’t usually have a thing for feisty girls but–”

You shut your eyes and sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience which wasn’t anything new really, but he was extra persistent today.

“–you were kinda hot like that. All angry and snappy, and that thing you did with your lips. Right, just like that!”

You sneered in disgust. This was the chance for Dasom and Keeho to prove their friendship because you were about to murder him and someone had to pay for your bail.

“Go back to your mediocre porn and keep your weird fantasies away from me.”

“You know me so well, angel. Wanna re-enact it? The one I usually watch has your hair color.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

Everyone stopped at the sudden outburst. It felt like a spotlight was cast over your table, like you were the lead in a play. The click-clack of Ms.Bang’s kitten heels moved fast along the tiled floor and you knew you were fucked. The gray haired woman reached your table and peered down at you with so much venom that it could make a flower wilt.

“It’s the third time you’ve disturbed the peace in my library. I’ll kindly ask you to pack your things and leave or I’ll have to call security. I’m thoroughly disappointed in you, young lady.”

You felt embarrassed, face hot as you stood up and bowed sharply, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bang.”

“And you, Mister. You’d think a grown man would have more respect for himself and those around him. I want both of you out, right this instance.”

Much like you, Mingi got up — albeit a bit slower — and bobbed his head up and down, muttering a quiet apology. Whispered murmurs spread through the library as the students resumed their studies. You hastily took your things and darted outside, not sparing anyone any glances. Ms. Bang didn’t return to her post until she witnessed you both walk out the door.

Fuck Mingi. Fuck Ms. Bang. Fuck your professor. Fuck the essay–

“Would you wait up?”

The man you wanted to see least of all stopped in front of you. Curse him and his long legs.

You peered up at him. The audacity of this guy. “No, Mingi. I don’t want to slow down because I don’t want to look at you! Let alone wait up.”

“Okay, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbled and scratched the back of his neck. Things were getting out of hand and he wasn’t used to seeing you this mad.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. You got me kicked out of the library, in front of everyone! Do you know how embarrassing that is?!”

“Hey, I was kicked out too!”

“You’re a guy! No one cares about you, but me? My reputation could be ruined, they’ll see me as a delinquent!”

“Oh, get over yourself. You were kicked out of the library, not arrested for snorting coke.”

Your tongue poked the side of your cheek. “You’re a real fucking asshole.”

You cursed your voice for wobbling and stepped around him, continuing your walk home. Mingi stood rooted to the ground and watched as you stormed off. He clicked his tongue and went the other way.

You were blowing things out of proportion. Who cared what people thought of you anyway? Stopping by a red light and staring off into nothing, he tried wrapping his head around your logic. You were a figure skater — a performer — you needed to grow thicker skin. People would always judge you, both on and off the rink. How could you be so easily affected by a measly little hag? Mingi blew out an air of frustration. You really were something else.

The red light was running longer than usual and he was growing more impatient with each passing second. Mingi patted the front of his hair and thought back to the conversation with his friends.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

The seven-word-long sentence struck a chord in him. Too blinded by his own bruised ego, Mingi didn’t want to believe his faults that day in the locker room, but as a sour, unripe apple faded into a deep red, Mingi too matured and realized he was in fact acting like a dick. It was clear his words hurt you, it was evident from the slight timber in your voice. A tone he was all too familiar with from his childhood days. A snivel he let out trying to suppress his childish tears from countless scraped knees and bee stings. A voice so suffocating and uncomfortable, as if a thick ball was shoved down his windpipe. He hated it — the feeling of not being able to breathe, being in control of his own body — even as he transitioned into his adult years.

A heavy weight dropped in his stomach at the thought of you feeling that way because of him.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Mingi hastily turned around and awkwardly jogged back to where he last saw you. Slowing down by the entrance gates of the local library, he caught a glimpse of your angry-walking figure among the sea of students. Eyes set on you, his feet moved on their own and skillfully avoided the people. Right as he parted his lips to call for you, something hard rocked right into his chest or the other way around, Mingi wasn’t sure. Tearing his sight from you and at the person that was the equivalent of a brick wall, Mingi opened his mouth to apologize only to stop mid word.

“You good there, Song?”

What was it with people addressing him with his last name. His parents did give him a real name for a reason.

Hate was a strongly charged word and from a young age, Mingi never felt hatred towards anyone. The closest thing he’d come to hate was dislike. He disliked bugs and vegetables, and he really disliked cardio.

That was until he met Bang Chan, the winger of Red Tigers — a hockey team under TOP University — and also the most annoying man in the world. Mingi hated Chan with a burning passion. Was it because of something childish? Probably. Would Mingi ever admit it? Probably not.

“What’s it to you, Chris?”

If it weren’t for Mingi’s towering height making him look years older than Chan, passersby would have shot him a dirty look for the lack of honorifics used, but Mingi didn’t care. Honorifics were made to show a clear difference in hierarchy and nowadays it was to show respect to either elders or superiors. Mingi held no respect for the shrimp of a man and Chris wasn’t a superior in his eyes.

Chan chuckled and ran his hand through his blonde locks. “Considering I don’t really give a fuck about you, I’d say nothing.”

The grit of Mingi’s teeth clashing against each other and sharpening his jaw, had a cocky smile spreading across Chan’s face.

“Oh, don’t say you thought I was worried about you.”

The day Mingi first met Chan was right before a game between the Blue Wolves and Red Tigers. The younger had been told about the talented winger, warned of his skills and malicious ways of getting under people’s skin. Being still relatively new to the team, Mingi heeded the words of his seniors and promised to stay cool headed and free from penalties. The promise lasted for a good ten minutes into the first period until Mingi sprung into action, violating a handful of rules and knocking Chan off his skates. Each and every game after that where the two hockey players simultaneously skated the rink was a brawl waiting to happen.

“The only time I think of you is either with a broken nose or a losing score.”

“So you do think of me. Well I’d say I’m flattered, but you're not really my type, Song. I’m more into lanky boys with freckles and not whatever it is you are.”

Violence was never the answer, was what a lot of educational books said, yet they could never explain the therapeutic release of pent up anger that released as Mingi’s fist would connect with the winger’s face.

Eyes steering away from Chan’s cheesed ones, Mingi pinpointed you moving further and further into the crowd, slowly weaving and blending in with the other people. While he wasn’t all that keen on talking with you — still having a trouble making out what he was going to say — he’d rather stand empty minded before you and not entertain the clown in front of him. Besides, if acted out of line his seniors would never let him live it down, maybe even go the great length of convincing their coach to keep him benched for the rest of the season.

“I don’t have time for you, Chris. We’ll settle everything on the ice, until then stay the fuck away from me.”

Shoulders colliding and their mouths curling into a C — one up and the other down — Mingi went after you just like he initially planned before the universe threw an obstacle in his way.

The multiple calls of your name echoed like a wordless siren song, manipulating you to slow down only to break off the cures and walk faster as you realized who the voice belonged to.

“God, you walk fast,” Mingi huffed as he caught up to you.

For an active hockey player you’d think his stamina would be out of this world. Apparently not seeing how his chest rose rapidly, stretching his gorgeous musc–

“What do you want?”

“How you feeling about food? You hungry? It’s my treat.”

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny.”

Mingi skipped in front of you and rotated midstep so he walked backwards facing you, “I’m serious. You up for some fried chicken?

“I already told you to fuck off, don’t make me scream stalker too.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Look I wanna make it up to you. At least take this.”

He searched for something in his jean pocket and then held out two crumpled bills. The glare he received was sharp enough to cut through concrete and Mingi gulped as the corners of your lips gravitated down. Your hand itched to slap the mocking papers out of his grasp and scream something along the lines of him being an asshole. As if he hadn’t humiliated you enough, now he was offering you money like you were a beggar.

“I’m not up for any of your jokes, Song. Just leave. Me. Alone.”

“No, I’m being for real.”

You hit the brakes and stared at him hoping to find the smallest of hints that he was fucking with you. “What game are you playing at, huh? You’ve already publicly humiliated me once, you wanna go for round two, is that it?”

He scoffed at your hostility and stuffed the dollars back in his pocket. “I’m not always out to annoy you, princess.”

The small movement of your brows drawing together brought out a forced cough. He had yet to make it up for you and he was already fucking it up.

“Believe it or not, but I just want to make things right.”

“Why?”

Mingi opened his mouth and closed it again. Words swirled in his head but no answer came to his mind. The question was righteous, he’d give you that. Coming up with an answer proved to be difficult when he too didn’t know what had gotten into him or why the sudden surge of goodness turned him into Lady Justice. A measly ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get him anywhere so with eyes that reflected the stars and lips forming into a pout he mustered the softest, “I actually… feel bad for the library… and your phone.”

Your eyes filtered over his face. This was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him and you had to remind yourself that this was the same guy who knocked you off your skates, coughed in your lunch and flicked your forehead every chance possible.

“I don’t buy it.”

Turning on your heel, you decided to go the long way home, hoping he’d take the final hint and leave you alone. Honestly, you should’ve known better.

“You would if I was a certain figure skater.”

Your head whipped back around so fast that you nearly got whiplash and he’d have to take you to the hospital.

“That’s not true!” Your face burned at the mention of Hyunjin or perhaps at Mingi’s observation. Did he always keep tabs on you or the people you associated yourself with?

He stepped closer, your breaths mixing in the cold wind.

“Prove it.”

The bear trap planted in the middle of the trail couldn’t have been more evident yet you still stepped on it with both feet. Sitting in a dimly lit coffee shop waiting for the tall bastard to come back with your orders was not on your yearly bingo card. There were a handful of reasons you agreed to his stupid idea. Your keys were in your other jacket, which was collecting dust in your wardrobe. Dasom was working on her project at Hongjoong’s so the apartment was empty. The sky was turning darker with each passing second and you were not about to sit idly on the stairs of your apartment complex, especially not at night.

A strawberry frappuccino slid in front of you and popped your thoughts like a dart would a balloon. Mingi hung his jacket around a chair opposite you and sat down, much like in the library. He avoided your gaze and took a long sip of his green tea mocha. You didn’t touch your drink despite it being your favorite — you pushed the thought of it being a coincidence or not to the back of your mind — and continued staring at him. He eventually faced you and nearly choked on the beverage.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m admiring your act.”

“What act?”

“This goody-two shoe thingy you’re trying to pull off.”

He chuckled and looked down at his drink, fingers tracing circles on the paper logo.

“You’ve really got your head way in on that. There is no act. I said it earlier, I just felt bad for getting you thrown out.” The cup was left alone and his eyes found yours.

“And that’s what I don’t get. You’ve been a douche for a whole year, what makes today so different from last month? Why do you care now?”

“Are you going to drink that?”

You weren’t drinking anything until he fessed up and it was clear from the scrunch of your brows and how your lips pursed, conveying that perfect amount of sassiness.

Mingi never stopped overthinking what the hell he was doing. On the walk there, during his stunt of convincing you and in the short time he stood in line waiting to order. He racked his mind for answers and came up with nothing. The blob of anxiety dug into his abdomen the more he replayed the library scene. It was different from all his previous harmless teasing and bickering. It was fun, but not in a sadistic way. Seeing you get so angry and flustered over a simple nickname tickled his insides, yet he never intended to get you into trouble let alone be the reason you got scolded and on top of that kicked out of a public place under a hundred watchful eyes. But being Mingi, the guy you apparently hated the most, he couldn’t say all that. You’d really think he was playing you, which you had every right to believe.

With another sip of his tea, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s called having a change of heart.”

You scoffed and allowed yourself to taste the stupid drink. It wasn’t like you could just go home anyway and it was easier to just give in and not make his money go to waste, no matter how annoying he was.

“Happy?”

A sarcastic hum weaved through the air of the chattering customers. The conversation ended at that point and you couldn’t stop thinking about your precious time being spent doing absolutely nothing. An all nighter was bound to happen or you’d say bye-bye to morning practice with Hyunjin.

The soft and irritating buzz of Mingi’s phone burned holes in his pocket. When you thought about it, the person hadn’t stopped calling him since you stepped foot in the shop and if you cared enough you’d tell him to take the call. Glancing down at the caller ID, Mingi pursed his lips into a line.

It didn’t take a genius to know why Intak was pestering him. The hockey team was supposed to have a movie night at Matthew’s. Intak and Mingi were assigned snack duty, but considering Mingi was at a coffee shop with you, the responsibility was pushed entirely on Intak, although he had yet to tell the younger boy. Mingi’s thumb slid over the off button and he pressed it twice ignoring the call. He was out of excuses to use and even if he had something up his sleeve, Intak would smell the bullshit from a mile away. They’d eventually justify his no-show as him having something better to do, assuming it was a quick fuck or something else involving a girl.

You, on the other hand, could jump from glee at the message on your lockscreen. Dasom was on her way home and you could finally cut this… appointment short. You slurped the last of your frappuccino and grabbed your bag and with a forced ‘thanks’ you were out of the coffee shop. How silly of you to think he’d let you off so easily.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he walked beside you.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I'm walking you home.”

Underneath all that douchebag exterior Mingi had some qualities of a gentleman after all and for once you didn’t fight him on it. This whole exchange was weird and you were certain that whoever happened to see you two together would think it was a PR stunt. God forbid Dasom or Keeho got a whiff of you being civil towards him. Dasom’s future poems would be dedicated to your and Mingi’s nonexistent relationship while an exorcism would be arranged by Keeho, claiming Mingi had bewitched you.

“You live quite far from campus.”

“I didn’t ask you to walk me home.”

“I never implied you did, I simply stated a fact.”

Another wave of silence settled over you. Mingi wasn’t that bad when he was quiet. Maybe you’d sew his mouth shut like Other Mother did to Other Wybee. At least that way you wouldn’t be publicly ridiculed anymore. Not that you were ever planning for this to happen again.

By the time you arrived outside your apartment a layer of pitch black darkness wrapped around the earth and you had to physically bite your tongue from asking if he’d be alright walking home alone. Keeho did mention one of his friends was jumped by a group of older men and Mingi, despite his size and shape , wasn’t invisible to weirdos this late.

“Uhm, what’s going on here?”

Both you and Mingi turned to your left where a very confused Keeho and an ecstatic Dasom stood. You really wished you’d fought Mingi on leaving you alone sooner because the fear of walking alone in the dark was better than convincing these two coconuts there was no budding romance between you. Sensing your discomfort, Mingi cleared his throat. A dust of red sprinkled over his cheeks matching his cold ears and nose.

“See you around.”

Before you could mutter a lame ‘bye’ he was gone, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of dumb and dumber.

“What the hell was that?!” Keeho screeched as you bolted for the bathroom. “What happened to him being a dick?!”

“He’s still a dick,” you called out and splashed cold water on your face.

“A dick you want to su–”

“Keeho-ya!”

“I’m just saying! What am I supposed to believe when I see you being all cozy with your sworn nemesis?”

You swung the bathroom door open and pointed at Keeho who, mind you, had his arms crossed over his chest and one foot impatiently tapping against the hardwood floor.

“Okay, let’s get one thing clear. I was not being cozy with him.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “You’re almost as gullible as Dasom.”

Said girl whined in protest and threw a sock at the back of his head.

“No. No, no, no. I’m being honest. He just walked me home–”

“Mingi walked you home?” Dasom peeped from her space on the couch.

“Yes, the bastard walked me home after getting us thrown out of the library–”

“The library closed like three hours ago.”

“Yes, Keeho. If you’d let me speak I’d explain everything from start to finish. The library was full so he decided to sit with me then he got us thrown out and wanted to ‘make it up’ by buying me coffee or whatever. So we went to a coffee–”

Dasom sprung up from the cushions and grasped your shoulders, violently shaking you back and forth. “Oh my God! He took you on a date!”

The self-proclaimed dad fell back on the sofa and dramatically covered his parted mouth. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was on the verge of crying.

“I can’t believe this. My little girl is turning into a woman.” He wiped an imaginary tear and followed up the act with sniffles. “We can’t have this, I have to threaten him properly. Invite him for dinner so he knows he can’t just hurt my little girl withou–”

You pushed past Dasom and threw glares at the annoying people you labeled friends.

“Can you stop fucking around for a second? I’m serious when I say nothing happened.”

“Well, yeah. I sure hope it didn’t. I’m still calling dibs on Hyunjin.”

You blinked a couple times, not entirely grasping his words.

“You’re calling what on who?”

“Dibs on Hyunjin.”

“Keeho thinks you’re getting together with Hyunjin.”

“You’re betting on my love life?!”

Keeho waved his hand in the air and tucked his feet under his bum. “Oh, stop screaming would-ya? It’s not much of a love life to begin with. Besides, Dasom is the crazy one in the bet.”

“Who’d you bet on?”

The girl balanced on her tiptoes and sheepishly smiled. If Keeho betted on Hyunjin, then she had to bet on–

“Mingi.”

“You bitch–”

The instinct to fight kicked in and you lunged at her. It wasn’t as if you were going to hurt her, maybe jank her hair or bite her arm, something light to scare her. Before you could leave a scratch on her, Keeho flew to her rescue and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

“Woah everybody, let’s calm down a little bit!”

With one last attempt to get one kick in you flung your legs out to which Keeho twirled you both around.

“Count your days, Dasom!”

“Okay! You’re on time-out,” Keeho declared and carried you to your room.

As he was about to cross the threshold, you placed both feet against the wall on the sides of the open door and pushed back, propelling Keeho backwards. Poor guy almost lost his balance but regained it before you became one with the floor.

“Stop being a difficult little shit!”

His right arm sneaked down behind your knees while the other supported your back and carried you bridal-style. He gently dropped you on the bed and you flopped like a sack of potatoes, limbs drawn out like a starfish. You could feel Keeho’s eyes on you, but it did little to break your stare from the ceiling.

“I’m not supposed to get any attention while in time-out.”

Keeho pursed his lips as his tongue poked the side of his cheek.

“Mmm and you were supposed to hate Mingi but here we are.”

He placed his hands on his hips. You were tired of glaring, arguing and throwing hands so you opted with a weak nudge of your foot towards the door.

“Leave.”

Now that was very much out of character. He was certain you’d jump him too or chuck a pillow at him, but no. You continued laying there lifeless. You didn’t even spare him a glance. Keeho plopped down beside you, shoulders touching as he too stared at the creme colored ceiling.

“Did we go too far?”

“Nah, I’m just tired of Mingi. It’s like he’s always there, even if he isn’t. He always finds a way to get on my nerves.”

Keeho hummed, “I get that. I mean, not that you’d know but you and Dasom make me sick sometimes too.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. You get sick of being around us too much, not because we are making fun of you.”

“That’s true… but you know who doesn’t make fun of you?”

“...You and doofus number two out there?”

“Wooooooow, really?”

A smile sneaked on your face.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Do whatcha want, Kyo. I’m just going to sleep the time-out… out?”

Extra sleep was never a bad idea and considering you were planning on pulling an all-nighter, you’d need all the rest you could get before that. You closed your eyes and rested one hand over your stomach while the other one went under your head.

“Hyunjin! Hyunjin doesn’t make fun of you!” Keeho yelped and breathed out in relief.

It physically strained him to keep his mouth shut and it felt like his head was going to explode if he didn't mention it anytime soon.

The idea of sleep was pushed to the back of your mind, along with all the other hundred things you postponed.

If there was anyone who kept dibs on people it would be Keeho. That man was up to date on all the gossip around the campus, new as well as old. Whoever was in the spotlight he’d know and then you’d know too. You’d usually tell him to shut it, not really being interested in other people’s business but this wasn’t just anyone’s business; this was about Hyunjin. The Hyunjin. Your crush, Hyunjin.

“Spill.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He jumped on the bed beside you, chin resting on both palms and feet kicking the air behind him. “Apparently our little Hyunjin-ie is interested in someone.”

Butterflies born from sheer anxiety and suspense fluttered in your stomach. Hyunjin liked someone. Giddy happiness welled over you. The same content feeling you’d get after passing a peculiarly hard exam or landing a difficult jump exploded in you. Your lips were forcibly curved in a shy smile and warmth settled in your stomach at the information.

The boy you admired for quite some time now finally liked someone. The joy lasted for all of five seconds as the words really sank in. The lively butterflies building cocoons in you were annihilated by a big rock, and your childish smile was wiped like rain and other shit was flung from the windshield of your mother’s car.

“Girl, why does it look like you’ve figured out Victoria’s secret?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m just saying how it is.”

That, he did. Keeho may have been an avid gossiper, but he wasn’t spreading lies. The things he heard and shared with you or Dasom were always true so you knew better than to question him and his sources. There was always that one-in-a million chance of him being wrong and it terrified you. It wasn’t like his sources couldn’t have misinterpreted it this time. What if they were talking about a girl named Hyunjin or Hyejin instead?

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s you,” he stated and picked on his fingernails.

“Don’t fuck with me right now.”

“I’m not!” He threw his hands up. “But if you think about it, why would he agree to help you practice?”

“Because I was obviously struggling.”

“Okay, then explain why he asked for your number?” His head tilted as he raised a brow at your silence. “That’s what I thought. It’s you! Plus Jiung told me his crush was a figure skater. You are a figure skater!”

“That is a reach and you know it. It could be Yuna, she’s great. Pretty, nice and a figure skating prodigy.”

“Okaaaay, but if she’s so great why aren’t they dating already?”

You flopped back on the bed, “Dude–”

“No, I’m serious. If she’s so great and he likes her then what stops them from being together?”

“That could be used on me too?! If he likes me, why hasn’t he done anything?”

“Cut him some slack, poor boy probably shat his pants while texting you.”

You swallowed down an insult and faced Keeho again. “How do you know about that?”

Crickets and whistling kettles.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yah, Choi Dasom!”