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#most of these came from my writing playlist
canisonicscrewyou · 1 year
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she’s insane she’s a wet cat of a human being she’s got daddy and mommy issues up to here she’s pathetic she’s everything she’s a breakthrough case she’s in hiding she’s forever mourning she’s a mom she’s got trauma she doesn’t even know how to find a therapist for she loves her friends and she secretly loves attention and if one things for certain she’s never stepping foot inside of the TARDIS ever again (a lie)
#rehashing a cringey self insert OC from 2014 but making her cringe in all new ways#unsure if I’m ever going to properly write anything w her again (to share w anyone at least bc a bitch has been writing)#but at the very least it’s been fun rehashing this OC. Molly Archer you were never stable enough to be a normal companion <33#but yet you keep getting dragged back in#she does eventually get a therapist for the Issues arising from the Everything (not related to why she had one before of course)#she just finds a fantastical allegory to let her therapist wrap their head around a fantastical situation#that eventually ends with ‘yeah so I think one of my soulmates died but immediately came back as a close friend who rightfully#denied my (obviously unrequited) feelings. we had a kid. she’s kind of fucked up medically because of it. he found out and tried to hate me#about it. life moves on I guess lmao lmao’#it’s also okay bc her kid grows up fine-ish and then gets dragged into her own alien fuckshit for being A Special I guess#do adore that her kid is like a Top Ten Doctor Hater. not an enemy she just hates his guts and mostly grew out of it after her teenage years#passed#is anyone still reading this bc it’s half incomprehensible#if I write anything it’s going to be so self indulgent#but for now I just have. playlists.#if you read all or most of the tags you’re so so strong. and also should hit me up(earnest) if you want to listen to me ramble more about#this. brainworms in my head
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acaciapines · 2 years
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returning to my roots (gravity falls transcendence au blog) to talk about my tau daemon au <3 this will almost certainly never be written at this point but damn it I had good ideas okay!! (long so under read more)
the whole thing was that demonhood severed dipper and his daemon peri, and while for Mabel’s lifetime they generally stuck together, as time passes and they lose more people they split, and Toby’s death is the big sticking point that tears them apart for good. Maddie is essentially raised by divorced parents and when she’s gone they stop having anything to do w each other.
there was this whole idea of how at the start dipper and peri appeared to summons together and were thought up as separate demons (which hurt bc they were trying to be a normal human-daemon pair) but as time goes on they’re just both seem as alcor who tends to take different forms and pronouns for unknowable reasons (which hurts bc they don’t see each other as the same person anymore).
they’d heal bc of two of my favorite tau characters (elizabeth from so you want to be a demonologist and torako from bentley farkas and friends) which tickled me since those two have nothing to do whatsoever with alcor before they meet—they’re not mizar or even reincarnations of anyone alcor’s met before. if I remember right I think Elizabeth gets them talking again (dippers college friends summon alcor and get peri, peri, who hates him and has been having a grand time terrorizing people with the flock, decides to hang around Elizabeth to annoy dipper. elizabeth is not having fun w this). and then tora gets them to actually see themselves as the one person—bc they both love her and want to start a life w her and she loves THEM, and since they’re hanging out around each other more and feeling similar things they start to relate, and tora’s just the right amount of pushy and annoying to get them to confront this, and can you tell the alcor-torako-bentley relationship was my favorite?
i have a whole collection of little drabbles i wrote out for this idea, all like, 100-400 words, but nothing solid for a fic lol (i think I tried starting it but never got far.)
so. idk. tau fandom if you’re out there i had ideas for every major tau arc (up to when I dropped out which was…idk WHEN but the so you want to be a demonologist characters were the last big arc I remember) and would Love to talk about them.
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reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE'S MINE | 01
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I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan
word count ┊  3.2k
author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!
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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…
But it wasn’t. 
He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 
You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 
“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 
Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 
“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 
Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.
“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 
You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 
“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 
Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 
“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”
Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 
“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 
Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.
“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”
“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 
You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 
You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”
He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 
Shit. Strike two. 
You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”
Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 
“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 
He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 
“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 
“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 
“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.
Strike three. 
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THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 
Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 
He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 
“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 
“No.” You replied bluntly.
“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 
“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”
You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 
“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 
And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 
It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 
It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.
“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 
“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”
At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 
“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 
“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 
For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.
You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 
“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 
“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 
He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”
“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 
“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”
“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 
“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 
“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 
He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.
“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 
He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 
“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”
“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 
“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 
He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 
“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”
He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.
“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 
He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 
“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 
Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 
Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 
You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 
He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 
Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 
“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 
“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 
Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss
*part of the reverse tropes series*
Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.
*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*
TAG LIST CLOSED
You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 
Key word being almost. 
You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 
Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 
“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 
Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 
“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 
“Finally.”
You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 
When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 
It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 
You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 
Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 
The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 
“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 
Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 
That was not a nice looking old lady. 
The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 
“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  
If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 
But you hadn’t noticed. 
“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 
The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 
“Is this your first time?” 
You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 
A grunt escaped his lips. 
“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 
“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 
The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 
“Just don’t miss the exit.” 
“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 
His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 
You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 
A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 
“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 
You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.
“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 
A click near your ear made you freeze. 
“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 
You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 
“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 
You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 
You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 
“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 
Your breathing started to grow ragged. 
“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 
You were now panicking. 
“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 
Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 
“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 
The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 
“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 
Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 
“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 
Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 
The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 
“Then . . . who has Max?” 
Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 
“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 
Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 
“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 
So much for customer service. 
You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 
Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 
Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 
“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 
“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 
“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 
Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 
He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 
Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 
Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 
“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 
You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 
Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 
“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 
“Aha!” 
The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 
Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 
“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 
Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 
“I heard that!” 
The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 
“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 
“How far am I driving?” 
Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 
You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 
When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 
“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 
“We’re not done yet mister.” 
There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 
“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 
Your fully turned around to glare. 
“Yes.” 
You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 
“My cousin lives around here!” 
Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 
“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 
He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 
“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 
You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 
The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 
“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 
Your sprung in your place. 
“Lando!” 
“Max?” 
“Charles?”
Lando squinted at you. 
“Y/n?” 
A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 
“Lando?” 
The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 
“You kidnapped my friend?” 
“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”
“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 
Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 
“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  
uber_y/n has posted
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uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤
liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others
bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭
uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW
max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje
uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)
max_v woman 🙄
land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐
uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀
sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber
uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?
max_v oh no
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I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
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Wants
More ramblings of an insomniac, still not proofread but i wanna throw this out here. We're back on our smut roll as well!
No one really cared what Astarion wanted or didn't want to do. He'd stopped resisting at some point, just letting whomever had higher status overrule him even when it came to his own body. But you, you didn't do that. You never asked him to do something he didn't want. So he asked himself; what did he want? You. He wanted you. Could he have you?
Genre: Smut Pairing: Astarion x (fem)reader Kinks: PiV, little bit of orgasm control, biting, marking, dirty talk Words: 7400+ Need something to listen to? This is what I listened to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XkxtmnNB3RI55o414xpdx?si=ef01f7ab913f4a26
Astarion wouldn’t say that you liked him per se, it’s doubtful you even enjoyed his company unlike how you enjoyed the company of say Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet you couldn’t possibly dislike him either, after all; who let’s a vampire drink from them if you didn’t at least tolerate him. 
“Is he yours? He’s quite handsome, that can’t be a coincidence, you know how to pick them.” Her eyes scanned him, a smile tugging at her lips as he seemed to evaluate his very existence.
“...You mean Astarion? I didn’t pick him, he’s here ‘cus he wants to be. Besides, if I knew him beforehand it’s doubtful I’d pick him anyways.” You replied, arms crossed over your chest.
“Hah! You’re funny, well he’s clearly under your command anyways. Won’t you let me borrow him? I’ve always wanted to be bitten by a vampire you see…” She drew closer, her eyes still looking him up and down. Nausea grew in his belly, his throat closing up.
Astarion wouldn’t say he liked you either per se, you didn’t make yourself the most personable exactly. You were blunt, which he enjoyed, as long as it wasn’t directed at him. Yet you weren’t afraid to speak your mind when he tried to play with you. Every and all attempts to get under your skin was answered with distinct indifference, not full rejection but without skipping a beat you continued whatever line of thought you had started. The most he could pull from you was the occasional laugh at his antics, mocking his clearly practiced recitals of lines he’d used dozens of times on hundreds of other people. You often replied with your own dry sense of humor. Sometimes though, he could swear that your cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but it was hard to tell since these few times were also those when you promptly turned your face away from him, suddenly a lot more interested in a bird or bush. And if he pushed, you were suddenly convinced you heard Karlach break something or Gale needing help with supper. He considered giving up, treating you with the same distance he kept to the other companions, yet you always seemed to gravitate back to his tent, to the spot next to him or simply to wherever he was. He wouldn’t say he liked you, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company.
“Well, I’m a spawn technically so you know, not a true vampire.” He managed to keep his voice light and comical, a half-hearted attempt at dissuading her, to keep her hands to herself. “Besides, I think I’d like to keep my teeth to myself this time.”
“Mh… Well no matter, you’re pretty enough to make it an overseeable difference. But I didn’t ask you, spawn.” The word was an insult. “I was talking to your commander here, or is it master? I can make it worth your while.”
The bite in your words and the general lack of give to his pushing and pulling gave him a weird sense of comfort. He could spew whatever lines he’d used before, chewed up and spit back out over and over again and you just… moved past them. You were bored by them, but not by him. He felt comfortable telling you about Cazador, about his scars, both physical and mental. You’d never gone too deep, but you had listened and you hadn’t let it color the way you treated him. There was a certain respect to the way you kept him at a distance, he couldn’t trap you under his thumb even if he tried. Yet you stayed besides him.
“Why in the nine hells are you asking me? I told you, I don’t own him, he can do whatever he wants. Mostly anyways. But he seems to be disinterested in whatever you’re offering so.” You didn’t spare him a glance, instead keeping your eyes on the drow woman. You were cautious too.
“Tsk, well if you’re unwilling to barter, I guess I’ll just have to go directly to the source.” She looked annoyed for a second before putting a face of seduction, temptation. She sensually moved her hair away from her neck, draping it over her opposing shoulder and tilting it towards him. She began to walk closer. Astarion could feel panic rise in him, instinctually taking a step back, unsure of what to do. “Come on, spawn, isn’t this what you were born to do? Feed?”
And when he was desperate, hungry and weak that night in the forest, his first instinct was to feed from you. Not because he hated you, far from it. But because he respected you and because he knew that if you found out; you might not judge. He hadn’t been careful enough when he hovered over you, accidentally waking you from your slumber. He had scrambled, fearing that this was it for him. He had slipped up and now any and all trust he had accumulated, though perhaps unfounded, would be wasted and he’d be banished if not worse. Yet you understood. He doesn’t know why, but it seemed like you did. And that night you let him feed from you, despite the pain it undoubtedly caused. And in the morning, you pretended like nothing had happened, like last night was as peaceful as all the others.
Maybe he did like you, just a little bit. You’d at least earned that much. But he had done nothing to earn that same sentiment. 
Yet…
“One step closer to him and I will be the one to spill your blood instead. He said he didn’t want you or whatever it is you’re offering.” 
You had taken a single step to place yourself between the woman and Astarion, keeping her from getting any closer to him. It was doubtful that you’d actually do anything against her in the very center of Absolutist territory. But he wasn’t certain, the way you firmly placed your feet on the ground and the way he could see your muscles tense beneath your armor from this far away told him that you just might. There’s the distinct tension of magic in the air, crackling just beneath the surface of the weave but enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. It lasts only a brief moment before the drow relents.
“Fine, do as you wish. What use do you have for a vampire that won’t even do something as simple and natural as bite a willing victim? Even if he is a spawn.”
“What reasons I have for keeping him around is none of your damn business. Now did you have anything more interesting to say or are we done here?”
There was nothing else you needed from her and as quickly as things had escalated, it had passed. It was still a couple hours before you decided to call it a day and lead them back to the camp to plan your next move and eat dinner. Astarion hadn’t brought up what had happened with Araj the whole time, yet it kept replaying in his head. If he could dream, he would’ve assumed this was the pleasant relief of sleep. But it wasn’t, you had stood up for him. Not only that, you had kept him from doing something he would regret, because he knows that if you hadn’t stepped in or even asked him to do it… He would’ve. Weak willed as he was after all the times he had broken his own boundaries for others. 
Night in the Shadowlands was somehow darker than the days, despite the lack of sun no matter the time. And as if the darkness could swallow any sound, silence lingered in the camp. Everyone either occupied with their own issues or idly putting their hands to work managing their gear. Astarion had wandered away from his tent and from the campfire, safe thanks to the pixie’s blessing and comforted in the shadows. It was a sense of familiarity that was bittersweet after todays events. 
The air was cold, the breeze rustling the blood red leaves of the few trees that could survive this darkness. The temperature didn’t bother him, he had long ago forgotten how cool the nights got. He could smell the dampness of the earth and of the rotting trees, the smoke of the campfire a vague note beneath it all. He surely smelled of smoke as well, it stuck to his clothes and hair despite how much he tried to cover it. ‘Rugged’ had never been a good look on him, he much preferred the sweet notes of incense and wine. But the worries of everyday issues were forgotten as he let himself fill his lungs with the fresh air.
Crack
The sounds of footsteps brought him back to the moment and he quickly turned around, the thought of a shadow cursed boar or harper still a relevant danger. Instead he was met with a friendly face. A friendly frowning face.
“What are you doing out here? You didn’t even bring a torch or anything, no one knew where you had gone.” You stopped a few meters away from him, half expecting to be able to return to the warmth and glow of the campsite since you had found the lost vampire. A light cantrip had been cast on the crossbow you kept strapped to your back, you always kept it within reach.
“Oh it’s just you, hah I thought I was about to be ambushed for a second. Were you looking for me? Awh you even asked the others where I was, how cute.” He teased, giving you a playful smile before turning his back to you once again. He heard you sigh before your footsteps grew closer.
“You shouldn’t wander off while we’re here.” Your words held no weight, you knew you couldn’t stop him if he was to actually wander away from camp. They were more like an attempt to keep any guilty conscious from getting to you if he did get hurt. But he still liked the thought that you might actually have been worried. “...Are you looking for something to feed on?”
“Around these parts? Gods no, I wouldn’t even touch a dead squirrel with a ten foot pole around here, not after that damned raven. I’ve accepted that I’ll just have to make do until we’re in sunnier parts.” He could feel his stomach writhe at the thought of something to dig his fangs into. He knew you had let him feed from you before but he had never been the one to ask, it’d feel like breaking an unspoken rule.
“Makes sense, those things came out of nowhere. Even the corpses have been cursed…” There's a pause and hesitation to you, an abnormality in your conversations. “Why didn’t you drink from the drow?”
He knew you’d ask, yet his face grimaced at the mere thought of her and her blood.
“Bah, she’s a blood alchemist, who knows what kind of stuff is running through her blood? I’m sure I wouldn’t be allowed to keep anything down if I drank from her.” He quickly recovered from the unintentional show of genuine disgust. “Besides, what’s the fun in a willing victim?” He turned his head to look at your face finally, putting on another playful smile and hoping you’ll take his joke as a response.
You don’t. Instead you cross your arms and raise your eyebrows ever so slightly at him, waiting for the real response. He’s unwilling to give it and instead looks away, gazing down into the valley beneath the cliff you both stood on. 
“C’mon, give me a real answer Astarion.” You lightly bounced your shoulder against his, the casual touch a surprise but not an unwelcomed one.
“Ah, you always have to dig your nose into things, don’t you… Fine, I simply didn’t want to. But that’s no reason to turn down whatever aid she might’ve had…”
“It’s as good a reason as any.”
Silence.
You hadn’t judged him. You just… took his choice at face value. Did you really nearly spill blood on the floor of Moonrise towers simply because he didn’t want to bite her?
“That’s it?”
“...What? Is there another reason you didn’t want to? You should’ve just told me from the beginning then, but go on.”
It’s almost funny how seemingly clueless you are. A dry laugh escapes him.
“No, it’s true. I simply didn’t want to. But you’re just so casual about it! Who knows what kind of powers she could’ve given us? But you decided to threaten her instead, it’s highly unlikely she’ll sell us as much as a health potion or even an antidote from now on.” He waves his hands around, frustrated by your seeming lack of care.
“You said no.” You shrugged.
“I-” He pauses, dumbfounded. “I said no… I didn’t want to bite her and you respected that… You even stood up to her for me, even though you don’t like me. I just can’t seem to understand you.”
You suddenly look just as confused as he did a moment ago, turning to fully face him for the first time since you joined him in the dark.
“...Who in the hells said I didn’t like you?”
“Well… Well no one said it, but I mean it’s not like you enjoy my company. It’s obvious everytime we talk. You don’t even give me as much as a smile when I tell you you’re beautiful, and when I try to playfully ask you to bed you just mock me. Yet you always come wandering over to me and so I try again, I mean why else would you want to talk to me? I may not be a mindreader, darling, but you’re sort of sending mixed signals here. I thought we just acted on the basis of respect here.”
Did you want him to try harder? Or stop fully with his advances? He really didn’t know what you wanted.
“I… Well…” In the darkness, with you backlit by your crossbow, he might be mistaken but there seems to be a blush creeping onto your features. “Didn’t you ever think that maybe I just don’t know how to respond?”
Oh.
Oh.
Aren’t you just adorable? Smugness builds in his chest and he opens his mouth, about to speak but you’re quicker.
“Besides, it’s obvious you’re just a flirt and I… I didn’t like being so affected by someone who isn’t serious. It’s embarrassing falling for something that's so fake, so practiced. So I ignored the flirting, I knew it was just lighthearted fun after all.  And I still like you outside of the compliments and teasing.” You hold your crossed arms even tighter together, unable to look at him. Instead you watch the slow fog rolling across the barren land. Your face lit by the soft glow of the moon just above Last Light Inn.
Astarion hadn’t even had the thought that you simply hovered around him because you… liked him. It was such a simple answer and yet it would’ve been the last thing he could’ve guessed. 
He liked you too.
A lot.
A lot more than he had previously allowed himself to feel. Could he even allow it now? What if he had ruined his chances of something more than… than what already was. The status quo had grown comfortable, predictable.
“I see…”
It’s all he can say. He can see that it wasn’t what you had hoped he’d say even if you weren’t looking at him.
A moment passes in silence.
There’s a look on your face suddenly, it looks almost pained or embarrassed, maybe it was both but just as quickly as it had flashed over your features it was gone. You let out a sigh and let your arms fall to the side, turning away from the outlook, clearly about to leave.
“Well that was… the worst. Anyways, I’m heading back to camp. Take your time, I’ll make sure there's supper left for you when you come back.”
Astarion realizes in a heartbeat that he was allowed to want something more.
You don’t even get one step away from where you stood before a hand grabs your arm with unnatural speed, holding you back from moving any further away. You nearly jump out of your skin by the motion, staring at the rogue. His face and eyes now lit by your crossbow, his eyes are wide as he watches you like prey. A shiver runs up your spine, he’d never looked at you like this before.
“Earlier today, when Araj asked you to let me bite her, you said I could do whatever I wanted.” His eyes don’t leave yours and there's something about their intensity that makes your cheeks heat up.
“Mostly, anyways…” You repeat what you had told Araj.
That seems to have been all the confirmation Astarion needed, suddenly closing the gap between you as he takes a step closer and pulls you into him. You catch yourself on him, the sudden movement taking you by pure surprise. Before you can register what has happened properly, his other hand has grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger with a firm grip and tilted your head up to face his. His unnaturally cool breath hits your lips as he’s leaned in, inches from yours but he stopped there. You’re trapped in his presence, it’s overwhelming in a way you always tried to avoid. But you wouldn’t dare move now, afraid to ruin whatever was happening.
“Then I want to kiss you…” His words are low, soft even.
“...I’d like that…”
In an instant his lips hit yours, soft and velvety. They feel just like you had thought so many times when you’d watched him talk. They’re cool compared to yours, something you hadn’t thought about but it somehow made everything feel so much more alive. Every soft stroke of his lips against yours was vivid as they parted and pushed up against each other, over and over again. The hand that had grabbed your face had smoothly slid to the back of your head, making sure he had you where he wanted you. The other hand had left your arm and was pulling your body against his, keeping you as close as he could physically keep you.
Astarion pushed into your body with a want, a need and a hunger you hadn’t ever seen him exhibit before.
He pulled away from your lips too soon. You didn’t realize how much you needed air before it filled your lungs abruptly in a labored breath.
In the glow of the moon and your makeshift light you could see his face. He was smiling at you, his fangs just barely peeking out from behind his lips. His eyes weren’t as wide anymore, instead crinkled at the edges from his smile but the look of predator remained in them still. He needed you.
“You taste divine, my dear.” You try to scoff, the comment was stupid in relation to simple kisses after all. But you don’t get much of a chance to react to his flirtatious attitude before he’s leaned back in, this time hovering over your neck with his mouth. His nose nudges the underside of your ear as he keeps your head still with the hand still firmly holding the back of your neck.
“But I want to taste your blood, if you’ll let me.”
Goosebumps spread down your arms and your breath catches in your throat. The hidden meaning of what he’s asking of you isn’t lost, not after today’s events. He wants your vulnerability, your submission, your blood. You had always been the one to tell him when he could feed from you, now he’s asking directly to do so. He wants to see your trust in him. That even when he’s a starving animal, he won’t hurt you, won’t take more than he needs. 
And he wants to show you how much he wants you.
His teeth graze over the soft skin of your neck, waiting for you to give him the sign. You nod.
His teeth pierce your skin, familiar pain shoots from the bite. You clench your teeth for a second before you relax, letting out a shaky breath. The pain dulls with his hands slowly starting to roam your body, one carefully tangling in your hair as he brings it up. He takes a soft grasp on it, using it to meaningfully guide your head to the side and giving him more space to drink from you. You don’t provide any resistance, all hesitations towards his advances were being washed away with each wave of pleasure and pain.
There’s no rush to him, no tension as he takes his time to enjoy you. Instead of the usual controlled and precise way he usually fed from you, when you both believed it to simply be an act of survival. Now he lets his tongue lap over the wound, the odd feeling of your hot blood and his cool tongue intermingling against your skin. He momentarily leaves the spot to kiss up your neck, intentionally letting your blood drip down and leave a trail as you shudder from the pleasure. His body is still firmly pushed against yours, his free hand carefully sneaking under your shirt to push against your bare skin. He’s pulling you against him and you've realized there's a rhythm to it, a slow and teasing tact to his grinding. It feels good, being so enveloped in him. When he feels ready again, he dips down to lick up the strip of scarlet that had formed, finishing with an open mouth kiss back where he started. The sharp inhale you make is punctuated by a soft moan, giving away your feelings and you realize you’ve been caught enjoying this maybe a little too much.
Embarrassment burns through you as Astarion pulls back to watch your face, a chuckle rumbling in his chest and spilling out between his lips, putting fuel to your fire.
“Now wasn’t that just adorable, I never expected you to make such cute sounds. Why haven’t you let me hear those when I’ve fed from you before?” He’s messing with you, a playfully mean glint to his eyes.
“You know why.” You say defiantly.
“Maybe…” He pretends to think about it, leaning back into you to place soft kisses along your jawline. The hand in your hair keeps you in place as he does. “But I want to hear you say it.”
“It feels good… this time…” You whisper but you know he’s heard you by the way you feel him smile against your skin.
“Is that so? I didn’t know you were such a masochist but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, who else would be so turned on by being bitten by a vampire.” He mocks you, the way he laughs leading to even more embarrassment and frustration coursing through your body. Partially by the way his laugh makes desire shoot right to your core.
He’s mean but it somehow turns you on even more, though you’d never tell him that. This is what you were trying to avoid after all, being so easily wrapped around his finger and put under his control. A part of you is still fighting his control and you try to step on his foot as payback.
Your foot only hits soft dirt as he quickly moves his own. Suddenly the grip in your hair is tightened and he pulls your head back further, forcing you to stare into his eyes directly. You’re scared that you were going to be met with anger or even hurt over your sudden and involuntary rejection. Yet all you’re met with is delight when you look into his eyes, his heavy breathing filling the night air with the smell of blood. 
“There it is, I always did enjoy the way you pushed back. I was worried you’d have gone soft on me.” He seemed ecstatic by your actions and you flushed again, he really did like it. “But just to make sure, darling… What do you want?”
For a moment you’re frozen, your head spinning from everything happening and partially from the blood loss. Not to mention the blood that had pooled somewhere further below. Yet worry brewed in the back of your mind and without thinking you blurted something out.
“What do you want, Astarion?”
You needed to know that this was what he wanted, despite him having taken the main lead, you wanted to make sure he had an out and that your own desires wouldn’t shackle him too.
“Oh sweetheart, you’re too considerate. But I strongly believe we want the same thing right now.”
“I want you.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think again and Astarion drank them up like wine spilled from the bottle.
“That’s what I thought,” he kisses you again, the taste of iron still fresh on his lips. “I want you too, afterall.”
His kisses distract you as his skillful fingers leave your hair and skin, instead grabbing the buckle of the crossbow holster that was strapped across your chest. He can't seem to keep his mouth quiet while he does it though, not that you should expect Astarion to be able to keep his mouth from running.
“I want you below me, I want to hear you gasp and cry out in pleasure…” He’s breathless, wrangling the strap of leather over your head, mindlessly chucking the crossbow somewhere nearby. The light still reaches you two, if just barely. Darkness claws it’s way closer, you pray it’s enough to keep you hidden away from wandering companions who wonder where you’ve gone. “I want you exposed and naked, darling, I want to dig my teeth into places only you and I will see.”
His fingers dig the rest of your tucked shirt out of your pants, his nails pleasantly scratching against your skin as he grabs bunches of the fabric and pull it up over your head as well. The cold air is suddenly intruding on your warm skin and you gasp. Astarion is quick to place his lips onto the newly exposed skin, placing kisses across your collarbone and to your shoulder.
“I want to feel your warmth against me, I want you to take me as you dig your nails into my back. I want to push you down just to feel you push back.” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as his own hands grab your behind, using the leverage to once again pull you in close. You can feel the hardness that had grown between his legs. He keeps going, talking in a daze in between the kisses. You don’t know if he’s drunk on your blood or just aroused, maybe it’s a combination of the two. He’s grown warmer to the touch thanks as your blood reinvigorates him. “I want you to feel me, feel every thrust as I ruin you. I want to tease you until you cry, I want to punish you for holding back on me this whole time. I want you to feel what you’ve done to me.”
You don’t get a moment to respond to him, you don’t even know what you could say. He takes your hand in his as he helps you both lower yourselves to the ground, the grass tickling the palm of your hand as you find purchase. He pushes himself over you, his knees firmly placed between your thighs, still holding your hand to push you down until you're laying below him.
“I want you to want me, just as I am.”
There’s a vulnerability to his voice and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he takes a moment to take you in. You look up at him, his white curls a little more messy than when you arrived and his lips a little more flushed. The moon is still high in the sky and though not as bright as usual, it’s enough to shine down on him and he looks… Ethereal. 
You take the pause in the flow to heave yourself forwards, pushing back and he lets himself fall back to sit on his knees as you kiss him again, slightly surprised. 
“I do, Astarion, gods be damned I do.”
You can’t take it anymore, he’s still fully dressed and you're desperate to see more of him and tired of being the only one exposed. Your hands grab at his shirt, messily working it out of his pants with a furrowed brow. A smile grows on his face and he laughs at your clumsiness before deciding to help you out. It only takes a moment for his own shirt to be discarded in the grass somewhere nearby. 
“You’re so forwards, did I really rile you up so much? I thought you didn’t like it when I ran my mou-” You interrupt him with a forceful kiss and he doesn’t hesitate to lean into it. Your hands finally touch his bare chest, letting your nails lightly scratch his skin as you run them further down. You feel him shudder.
“I like hearing you talk and you can run your mouth for hours but…” Your breaths are heavy as your hands reach his thighs, softly grabbing his legs. “I need you to touch me while you do it…” You’re trying to be bold but the desperation seeps through your voice and you look up at him through your eyelashes, unable to fully face him.
“Shit… Aren’t you just perfect? Who am I to deny you what you need…” He gives in to you, pushing you back enough to let him untie the lacing on your pants. It only takes a moment of shuffling until he’s rather expertly slid your pants off of you, leaving you in your undergarments. His hands grab your knees and part them enough for him to settle back inbtween them before they slide up your thighs. You're already working on the lacing at the front of your bra, pulling and tugging on the ribbons hurriedly. It gets even harder when Astarion decides he wants to taste you again, his lips finding your neck and hungrily licking for the taste your blood as left. He’s sucking hard enough that you’re rather certain there will be a bruise in the morning but you don’t care enough to reprimand him now. 
“Having some issues there, darling?” He teases as he feels you continue to loosen your bra, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.
“No, it’s fine, ah! There, I got it!” You finally get it loose enough to pull over your head but Astarion doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you’ve managed to get it above your chest, his mouth has found your breast and taken a nipple inbetween his lips. Your reaction is instantaneous as you arch your back into him with a loud gasp, your arms freezing above your head with the bra still tangled between them. 
His cold tongue swirls around the bud skillfully and you're sure you can almost feel his fangs grazing against the sensitive skin. You're unable to keep quiet and even when you purse your lips together, the sounds betray you. But Astarion prides himself on his multitasking, one hand finally reaching below the edge of your panties. You’re already drenched thanks to his previous actions.
“My-my, you’re soaked. How often have you imagined this? Everytime you’ve let me feed from you? Everytime we’ve been alone together? Or just when I’ve put the thought in your head, hm?” His fingers slide between your wet lips, slowly spreading them as a finger found and began to circle your clit, not quite touching it.
“It’s not like tha- ah!” He doesn’t let you finish, instead taking the moment you opened your mouth to slide two fingers into you, curling them ever so slightly.
“What did you say?” He mocked confusion, continuing to slowly thrust his fingers into you.
“I… I haven’t…” You manage to get out between moans and heavy breaths, your brain going into overdrive trying to focus on what you’re saying. Astarion clicks his tongue and suddenly his free hand has pinched your nipple inbetween two fingers and his thrusting has gotten quicker.
“Lying is a sin, didn’t you know that my dear? Are you afraid of hurting me? Here I was, hoping you’d think of me daily. The thought of you touching yourself just because of my bite would simply delight me.” He rolls your nipple inbetween his fingers and you can’t think anymore, all you can do is roll your hips against his hand and writhe underneath him. “Come on, confess to me, beautiful.”
“I…” You struggle to formulate any sentence but his attention doesn’t falter, instead he looks like a cat whose playing with a mouse. He shifts his body so your leg hooks over his thigh, pushing further up as he keeps pumping his finger into you. The new angle lets him hit that spot you can never quite reach yourself. The closer you get to formulating words, the quicker he goes until the lewd sound of his hand hitting your soaked pussy is all that can be heard. You’re getting so close. “Fuck- I have, I-I’m sorry-”
Suddenly he laughs, loudly and with a sharp edge of ridicule. His hand slows to a near stop, simply pushing and curling his finger as he grinds the palm of his hand into your clit, keeping you close to that edge of cumming. You’re dazed and confused when you look at him, why is he laughing?
“Oh you are simply a riot, you sweet thing.” He smiles too kindly as he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing. He leans back as he sucks your juices from his fingers and push yourself up on your hands.
“Did I say something wrong?” You’re nearly panicked, worried you messed up and told him too much.
“No, no, not at all. The opposite actually.” He gives you a grin that clearly shows off his fangs.
“T-then why..?”
“You were close to cumming on my fingers, right?”
You nod, dumbfounded.
“I don’t want you to.”
“Huh? W-what, why?” Your brain is still hazy and you can’t think straight, his confusing answer didn’t make it easier for you either.
“Simply didn’t want you to.” You consider that maybe you did this to yourself, teaching him the power of simply refusing. You wanted him to have agency, but in this very moment you also wanted to cum. You wanted him to want you to cum. You can only guess that you looked especially conflicted because you were pulled from your thoughts by Astarions laugh again. When you look over to him, he’s untying the lace of his own pants. “Okay, no, I didn’t want you to cum on my hand because I want you to cum on my dick, simple as that actually.”
“Oh you’re such an asshole…” You mutter under your breath but his grin tells you he heard you as he pushes his pants and underwear down his legs. You take the moment to pull your own panties off.
“Ah, did you want to cum at all tonight, pet?” He threatens playfully as he finds his place between your legs but whatever reply you had died in your throat as your eyes land on his cock. You had imagined it before yet embarrassment had kept you from thinking of any details, yet there it was. Hovering over you, Astarion used one hand to hold himself up, the other softly tracing up your thigh as he took in your reaction and in turn observed your beauty. You laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable. Trusting and turned on. Just like he had wanted you. “Hm? Cat’s got your tongue? Come on now…”
He leaned in, kissing your lips once before once again lavishing the skin of your neck in open mouth kisses and playful nips that had you jolting under him. His cock just barely rested on your pussy lips as he slowly and softly moved back and forth.
“Fuck… Ah…” You sigh in pleasure but it’s not enough to satisfy Astarions ever growing need to embarrass you.
“Words, darling, use them. What do you want?” he whispered against your skin, pressing his cock further into the softness of your cunt with the base of his thumb, slowly fucking the space between you and his hand. Your slick coats him and he can’t help but sigh in relief. “Tell me, or I’ll just use you like this until I cum and leave you as you are.” It’s a threat without any truth, but it’s enough to push you to speak up.
“Maybe you should just… Shut up and fuck me, Astarion.” Your hand grips his hair, pulling it enough to guide his head back up to meet your eyes. The spark of your rebellion to his teasing thrills him to no end. “I want you to fuck me, is what I’m saying.”
Lips and teeth and tongue suddenly clash as he presses his mouth to yours. It’s messy and rough, you bite his lip and he moans. Your arms wrap around his neck. He finally guides himself to your opening and pushes the tip in. You both shiver, momentarily pulling away to whimper. And then all at once, Astarion pushes the rest of himself into your heat and you feel divine. You're forced to pull away and the feeling makes you drop your head back as you take a sudden, sharp inhale. Pleasure crashes over you and just as you feel like you can recover, Astarion is already ahead of you and starts to thrust. Whatever recovery you thought you could get is quickly washed away as moans and whimpers are all the things you can utter in that moment. His desire and desperation can be felt in the pace he quickly falls into, his mouth finding your breast once again but this time his earlier control seems to be gone. He bites into the soft flesh, his fangs sinking into your skin and you gasp. The pain and pleasure is overwhelming, the signals getting mixed up and all you know is that he feels good.
You lost count after the first three bite marks Astarion leaves on your body, you weren’t even sure if all of them broke skin or would leave any marks but surely some were. The thought crossed you, of meeting your companions when morning light comes and the view of the marks up and down your neck. And you, who had worked so hard to keep your attraction to Astarion pushed so far down, suddenly it’d be obvious you’d become his plaything. And yet the thought made you clench around Astarions cock, ecstasy taking over whatever shame you had just felt. 
Your peak was quickly building back up, and you repositioned your arms to grab around his shoulders and up his back. Letting your nails dig into his marble skin just like he had wanted.
“Hah, to believe you’d take me so well… Especially after all that grandstanding about- hah, fuck… not falling for the sweet things I say.” The smugness in his voice was annoying yet you felt your core tighten even harder at them. You dug your nails even harder into his back in response and you felt him stutter in his pace, a pleasured whimper slipping out from under his breath. “Shit,  yeah just like that, sweet girl.”
Of course he’d like it. You hide your face in his neck, unable to do anything else. You’re getting so close again.
A hand pushes inbetween you two as Astarion slips his thumb where you two are connected. He quickly finds your clit and presses down.
“Come on, I want you to cum on my cock… I want to push you over the edge, watch you cry out in pleasure…” You’re both dazed as he starts to rub your clit. Your back curves and you gasp, letting go of Astarion as you push your hands into the grass over your head, gripping it. “That’s it, cum for me, beautiful.” 
The last thing you register is his smile and his fangs glinting in the moonlight as you finally tip over the edge. You're flooded with white, hot pleasure as you screw your eyes close and arch your back off of the ground. Astarion doesn’t stop, his thumb relentless as he rubs you through your orgasm. He’s pounding into you, fast and rough but as you keep clenching around him he can feel how he’s losing himself. You’re still riding your high when his hands hit the ground on either side of your head and you can barely register his face as it hovers above you. He’s breathtaking, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows scrunched together. You see his white eyelashes as he closes his eyes, fully focusing on how good you feel around him. His pace becomes an uneven mess fueled by a frenzy and his feral need for you. Each hit of his cock against your inside sends another intense wave of pleasure bordering on pain and you take it, whimpering.
And as he pushes into you as far as he can the scales finally tip and he cums, flooding your insides with his cum. You can feel the pulsing inside you as he collapses over you, you both breathing heavy and slowly coming back down from your highs. 
It takes a minute before you're both in any condition to move, using the little energy you had gathered to roll over to your sides, facing one another. There's a comfortable silence as you let whatever happened to tonight soak in. Astarion is carefully watching your face, looking at the myriad of marks he’d left on your neck without even thinking. He never left marks usually, the proof of the nights spent with others made him nauseous. But his brain had been telling him that he should… that he needed to. He wanted you, after all. Reaching out with his hand, he carefully traced one of the bite marks. Your eyes suddenly widened.
“By the gods- What in the hells am I going to tell Shadowheart…” You groaned and hid your face in your hands. Astarion raised an eyebrow.
“...Was there something between you two I had just missed? Cus in that case I might not be able to come back to camp for a while.” He joked.
“No, no not that. I had just… mentioned to her that I wasn’t falling for your stupid flirting and how it was obvious you liked to fuck around and I just… Didn’t want that to be me. I’m pretty sure I called you annoying as well.”
Astarion once again laughed at you, the fact that you would both be facing a very judgemental Shadowheart was very amusing to him. He’d rub it in her face if he could, but the hickeys and bitemarks on your neck was probably enough.
“But now that is me… Ugh.”
“... You know I didn’t bed you just because I could, right?” Astarion spoke up, awkward in his approach.
“Well yeah the whole ‘I want you’ thing was pretty consistent. But what do you want with me?” And there was that straightforwardness he always found a little intimidating.
“I… I don’t know, but I want you. That’s all I know.” He studied your face before turning to lay on his back and look into the starless night. “Do I have to choose what that means now?”
“...No. Just… Tell me when you know I guess.” You shrug and turn to look at the sky as well. 
“Can I want you to come closer?” Astarion spoke into the night, his voice barely heard over the breeze in the trees.
You don’t answer, just shuffle closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He smiles, it felt nice having someone close even after you were… done.
“Though we shouldn’t stay here too long, I’m pretty sure I have grass up my ass crack and it’s colder than the hells out here. Sorry but you don’t exactly help either.”
“Oh aren’t you just charming, didn’t you ever learn some manners?” You both laugh and the shadowlands feel a little less… bleak, at least for tonight.
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baby-yongbok · 4 months
Text
𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦
Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader
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♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers
♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.
♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?
♡ Word Count - 9.2k
♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!
♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major
✧ Masterlist ✧
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When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.
Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.
That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.
As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus. 
You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side. 
“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories. 
“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”
You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.
“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.” He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”
Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items. 
Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. 
“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”
“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.
“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.
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“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.
You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.
“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin. 
“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.
“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”
Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”
Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”
“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional. 
“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile. 
“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend. 
Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”
“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art. 
“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest. 
“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection. 
“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”
“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” 
You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to. 
In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating. 
When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point. 
“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”
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You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.
 The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.
 Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter. 
“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.  
“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?” 
“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.
“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close. 
“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”
“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here. 
You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.
You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.
It was a dream. 
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Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.
He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong? 
That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.
He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.
You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants. 
You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin. 
“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”
“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”
“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it. 
“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”
“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails. 
“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.” 
“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway. 
You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.
He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him. 
“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs. 
“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal. 
“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”
“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.
“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.
 “You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”
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Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all. 
His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze. 
His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.
He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes. 
His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen. 
His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.
 He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time. 
Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster. 
She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once. 
“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist. 
Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.  
He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance. 
“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.
“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?
He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin. 
He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times. 
“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday. 
“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right? 
Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.
Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest. 
Both of you feel like you can’t breathe. 
Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.
“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.
A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.” 
You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you. 
“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear. 
“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”
“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.
“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”
You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”
Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.” 
It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”
Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”
Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”
His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”
Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious. 
“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
 “No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.
“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of. 
“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape. 
“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.” 
You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.” 
Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours. 
A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.
You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you. 
A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.
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The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.
 You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it? 
On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious. 
For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.
The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.
He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror. 
You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.
The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name. 
“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants. 
“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?” 
He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.” 
Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.” 
The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.
“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.” 
“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.
 “I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”
“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you. 
“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”
Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”
Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”
“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams. 
You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance. 
You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart. 
You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest. 
You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him. 
You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to. 
Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss. 
His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -” 
“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”
He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again. 
“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it. 
His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.
 He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”
You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan. 
His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it. 
Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”
 You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe. 
His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.
 Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?” 
He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you. 
Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”
 He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”
 He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.
“You can. Please, I want you to.” 
“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.
 “You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.” 
“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.
“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric. 
“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”
“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.”  He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.” 
His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.
 “You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length. 
“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember. 
“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”
 You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts. 
He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit. 
“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.
“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.
“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”
“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.
 You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other. 
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available. 
Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.
“You didn’t finish that one.”
He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.
“It looks like you."
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It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame. 
Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.
The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery. 
It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself. 
“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders. 
“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you. 
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile. 
“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist. 
You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.
“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie. 
“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you. 
“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?” 
Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.” 
“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?” 
You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh. 
“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying. 
“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.” 
It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze. 
“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.” 
She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.
“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow. 
A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak. 
“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles 
“Shut up.”
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harrysloveboat · 1 year
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John B’s Girl | PT. 2
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Read Part 1 here.
Summary: John B comes face to face with the ugly truth and reacts in the most expected way. JJ can’t hold back anymore, willing to risk it all for one person. All the while (Y/N) deals with the consequences of her choices.
Word Count: 27.5K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)
Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, soft!dom JJ, DARK!JJ, fluff, choking, subspace, clit play, degrading, slight daddy kink, slight mention of anal, physical fight, very minor mention of abuse, blood play, biting (just once), a little thigh riding, JJxCameron!Reader, JohnBxCameron!Reader etc.
A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I accidentally took this one shot farther than intended and my life got in the way while writing so it was delayed😭
I hope you guys enjoy it and that it was worth the wait! I was also listening to Chris Briney’s playlist while writing parts of it so feel free to play that while reading🙈 pt.3 coming soon, comment on the taglist if you’d like to know when it comes out❤️
JJ’s mind was reeling as he departed the van with a quick tug of his shorts and a clasp of the button.
He had stepped on his red hat when jumping out, mindlessly dusting the sand off of it without a care as his legs led him back to the fire pit. JJ was simply going through the motions, doing his best to ignore the way the fabric of his boxers dragged against his softening member. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, tasting the remnants of her sweet peak. The hat was placed on backwards to cover his tousled hair from view. He could still feel her on every indention and arch of his toned body. Believing one time would truly satiate his need for (Y/N) was a complete joke.
It was a cruel and ridiculous notion.
If anything, that’s all he could think about now. A small taste wasn’t enough, he wanted to suffocate between her legs and leave her quaking. Fuck her mouth until she had pretty tears streaming down her cheeks and saliva dribbling down her chin. Make her scream his name until she went mute. JJ had half a mind to turn around and act on impulse before Kie’s curly hair popped into his frame and refrained him from completing his body’s request. She was wearing a frown, brown eyes searching behind JJ while speaking. “Hey J. John B’s been looking for (Y/N) for a while apparently. You seen her?”
Yeah, I was fucking her in the van.
JJ let out a small breath at his thoughts, shaking his head innocently. “Nope. No clue,” he lied knowing she was probably still recuperating in the van. But he played the part so perfectly, feigning worry to mirror her state. His ocean blue eyes aimlessly flickered through the crowd without actually zoning in on anyone. “Does JB have any clue where she is?” It was hard to contain the mixture of emotions he felt for his best friend at the moment.
On one hand, John B taken it too far involving an unwilling JJ into his cruel game. Using him to get his revenge on (Y/N) and getting off on forcing him to watch something he was forbidden from claiming. On the other hand, John B’s initial reservations about their behavior was proven more than accurate by the fact that his girlfriend was most likely getting dressed in the Twinkie after JJ had just gotten done railing into her.
“You guys find her yet?” Pope’s intrusion at his right side brought him back to the conversation at hand. Kie sighed, genuinely growing more worried as time passed. “No.. I mean, it’s not like she could’ve went far? She came with us and I doubt she’d leave with Rafe without telling us,” Kie crossed her arms over her chest faintly recalling the oldest Cameron hanging out with Topper a while ago but (Y/N) wouldn’t have just left with him. Things between the two siblings had been tense for a while now with her dating a Pogue. “Well I just saw him flirting with some poor Touron so that’s not even an option,” Pope’s confirmation was layered with disgust not able to imagine what poor girl would fall for his antics.
John B appearing out of thin air from the crowd was what really made JJ zone in fully.
Neither of them had to say a word for the air to grow tense. John B hadn’t really taken the time to watch JJ’s reaction when (Y/N) unraveled in front of him, but it was easy to guess that his best friend had caught on. The fact that JJ didn’t seem as worried as the others fed into the foreboding dread he was trying to pretend wasn’t there. They turned into two alpha males fighting over territory the second they made eye contact. Standing proud with chests puffed up, oozing testosterone into a suddenly hostile setting.
“Lost your girl JB?”
He didn’t have to poke the bear but JJ is simply a victim of his true nature.
After all, it was John B who chose to start this. How could he be blamed?
The smirk that played on his otherwise innocent features sent John B into a spiral. His hand would form a fist and then loosen, only to repeat. The unspoken words JJ was attempting to convey were being understood perfectly. Kie looked between them, becoming aware of the undeniable tension swelling in the air. A lid was about to blow off and Kie wasn’t sure if it would be John B or JJ to lose it first. Pope was as oblivious as ever, checking his phone to send (Y/N) another text.
“I saw her for a little bit.”
John B’s teeth gritted as he took a step forward. The implications the blonde haired boy was making was only triggering the residual jealousy inside of him. He would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his girlfriends eyes when JJ demanded her attention. It was like a punch to the kidney remembering the pause she took when being introduced to him. John B wasn’t one to normally struggle with his worth, but it was too easy to assume that things might’ve turned out different if JJ had been the one who got the job with Ward Cameron instead of him.
“I’m picking up some weird vibes..,” Kie interrupted with a tentative tone, eyes flickering between the two.
John B was a giddy kid on Christmas morning watching the two girls mingle on the boat. (Y/N) Cameron was actually sitting on the H.M.S. Pogue in a sexy little one piece bikini talking to his friends. And she was dating him.
“JJ’s not gonna like her.”
“JJ has to like her.”
“Yeah but he’s not going to.”
“You’re killing my mood Pope.”
“She’s the Kook Princess for fucks sake.”
“If you’re cussing that means you’re really mad,” John B was partially teasing. Pope was hitting too close to home without realizing it. JJ’s been his best friend since the third grade. Everything significant that ever happened to JB always made its way back to JJ. Anytime he skipped school, JJ was the one who led the charge. Any idea or scheme, good or bad, was brought up between the two before anyone else. Hell even the grinded herbs spilled on the floor of his guest bedroom belonged to none other than his partner in crime.
JJ not liking his girlfriend because she was a Kook just wasn’t an option.
Pope rolled his eyes while carrying the cooler (Y/N) and Kie had packed off the deck. “I get ignored but I’m always right,” he mistook his friend’s carefree attitude for confidence. There was just no way Pope wasn’t going to be right about this. There wasn’t a walking Kook on Outer Banks that didn’t receive the bad end of one of JJ’s stink eyes or his colorful language. The Kook Princess and her knight and shining armor at the time, Topper, were the main topic of many drunk rants about social inequality.
John B pensively knocked against the wooden railing with his beer can, accepting Pope’s prediction. “Okay well- we can always leave them stranded so they can work their shit out,” John B threw up a solution to the mix. Pope dropped the cooler before giving him a pointed look. “It’s truly scary how quickly you came up with that,” he was a little impressed and frightened at the same time.
Pope’s gaze moved behind him, heavy footsteps giving way to the queasiness that came with jitters. “Fishin’ for some drum today boys?” JJ’s chipper voice put an end to their discussion and forced fake smiles. Pope began undoing the rope tying them to the dock with a quick nod. John B didn’t have time to react with his special guest already making her way towards the cooler that Pope had brought on board. The time he thought he had to come up with a plan disappeared. Kie scrambled up at his arrival to help diffuse any situation that might unfold while John B shifted to face his girlfriend and best friend. “(Y/N) this is the last member of the Pogues, JJ Maybank. JJ, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N) Cameron. Thought she could come with us today,” he introduced them formally.
The rest just seemed to happen in slow motion.
His blue eyes landed on her, hair at the end of her ponytail drifting towards her left shoulder with the gust of wind. Cheeks flushed with a light shade of pink that JJ didn’t know the name of, but found himself suddenly wanting to. She reached up to lift her designer sunglasses from the brim of her nose to the top of her head. He swallowed hard, caught off guard by the gleam in her eyes that matched the magnitude of the suns’. Her glossy lips were moisturized by some chapstick JJ needed to know the flavor of. The bikini was black, with two openings at the side and simple spaghetti straps that only put emphasis on her chest. Every alluring inch of tanned skin was prompting him towards her.
The only time she ever really crossed his path was during a tussle with Topper or Rafe. He never really had the time or interest in concentrating on the Kook Princess.
Which in reality made a lot of sense to JJ.
Because he felt like he was actually seeing her for the first time. Like he didn’t even know who she was until now.
“Nice to properly meet you JJ, I- uhm..- I brought some beer over,” and it was the pause in her sweet voice that really sealed the deal.
(Y/N)’s field of vision was consumed by JJ. His muscular arms in the sleeveless gray t-shirt were shimmering with sweat. The cotton fabric hung low exposing the defined lines of his collarbones. The sun lit up the sapphire color in his eyes and sharpness of his jawline. And normally, normally, (Y/N) had a hatred for baseball caps. The way they ruined your hair after wearing them for too long. Or how the little hole in the back never sat just right with her ponytail. But today? Her entire perspective changed on them as she caught sight of the singular loose strand of hair falling onto JJ’s forehead. The red hat was facing the opposite way, blonde locks poking out under the sides of it. For heaven sakes JJ had a damn toothpick snug between his lips.
How could she not be thrown off by him? He was the epitome of a bad boy that would probably be haunting her dark dreams in the upcoming future.
“I didn’t know Kook Princesses knew that beers existed.”
With his playfulness, the stress in their surroundings dissolved.
A quiet snort on her end and his boots landing on the boat was the end of it. The big explosion they’d prepared for amounted to nothing more than a shared beverage and banter that was borderline flirtatious.
“Well… that could’ve gone way worse,” Pope noted from John B’s side.
In retrospect, it did go way worse.
“Everything okay?” (Y/N) called out to them from where she was making her way up to the huddled group preventing the storm that was brewing from unleashing. Her breathing was still uneven, fingers fiddling nervously with the shiny cross necklace at her neck. The vibrator still made it difficult to walk with the way it would slide inside of her restricting her from forgetting about the incident in the van but she was satiated for now. Able to process other thoughts than just JJ. Guilt was at the forefront of her conflicted emotions. Everybody but John B and JJ looked at her. They heard her but they hadn’t even broken their stand-off to acknowledge her presence.
Kie shot her head around to (Y/N) exhaling a sigh of relief since she appeared uninjured. But at a second glance, she noted the tangled mess of hair that had been miserably patted down and ran through. The subtle rise and fall of her chest to finish catching her breath. The crimson color painted on her cheeks that ran down her neck to her shoulders.
“Everything’s great now. JB was lookin’ for ya and I was just telling him that I’d ran into you,” JJ’s smirk widened. He was just having too much fun playing into the obvious suspicion that danced in John B’s brown eyes. It was hard to not want to blurt it out right then and there, that his little game hadn’t worked out the way he intended it to. The bittersweet moment that would eventually come when John B pulls the vibrator out was enough motivation to keep his mouth shut. A side of JJ he wasn’t aware of was coming out for vengeance.
(Y/N) had to physically stop herself from jabbing her elbow into JJ’s side. She wanted to come clean, tell John B the truth even if it would be devastatingly difficult to remedy. She owed him that now. “Yeah, by the fire pit. When I wasn’t feeling well. I had to get some fresh air,” it was sort of the truth. (Y/N) couldn’t pick this moment in front of everyone to be honest. She just wanted to make sure that he found out through her and not by opening JJ’s present.
“Mhm,” JJ hummed digging his fists into his pockets. It was her lie that bled false hope into John B as he finally broke with a peek her way. She was staring at him, silently pleading to back off with her big doe eyes. JJ couldn’t blame him for relaxing with one look her way, she had the same affect on him.
Pope adjusted his flannel with a heavy breath. “Well I don’t know about you guys, but that was a lot for one night. I’m ready to go to bed. And Pops ran me down dry today,” his body was still sore from all the deliveries and inventory he had done at the shop earlier. It was indeed getting a little late for all of them now. There was a good amount of liquor in their systems so calling it a night wasn’t a bad idea. Kie was still feeling unconvinced though. Nothing that was being said was wrong but it was the way it was being said. The heavy emotion that weighed the trio down. And of course, JJ was acting far too odd and smug.
“It was a lot for one night, huh?” JJ’s head whipped around to her then. He was so obviously referring to the fact he had busted a weeks load, who was he kidding, a months load of frustration into her. (Y/N)’s knuckles turned white around the chain feeling the way JJ peered down the front of her body and stopped at the end of her dress. Her body would be undeniably hot if anyone was to touch it at this very instant. “Yeah, we should get home,” her voice was shaky as she stepped toward John B, outstretching her free hand to him and rewarding JJ’s audacity without a glance over.
He wound his fingers around hers, letting her be the one to calm him down and wash the anger away. He didn’t bother looking at JJ again as they began walking because he’s afraid he might punch the stupid smirk off his face if he does. (Y/N) had accidentally already done that for him by taking John B’s hand.
“I tried-,” John B squeezed her hand lowering his voice as they walked a few steps ahead of their friends, “getting your attention.”
The vibrating noise the toy made against the metal flooring of the van echoed in her ears.
“Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock.”
(Y/N) jumped out of her skin at the mention of the device. She cursed whatever higher power had led John B to making this purchase. Her skin crawled with the flashback it brought on. She was even angrier at herself for still being turned on by the way JJ had fucked her into utter submission. If she’d been in her right mind, she would’ve taken it out and wiped herself clean. But JJ had left her dazed. Perplexed by the intensity of pleasure and shame from not feeling guiltier than she should.
“I turned it off.”
“You.. turned it off?” John B repeated, shock evident on his features. There was never an actual contract between them with a set list of rules or anything but they were dabbling in punishment and handing over control so it didn’t make any sense to him. Why would she do that knowing what would ensue? It crossed his mind that it could’ve been because he took it too far moments before she vanished. He wasn’t dumb enough to ignore that it had been careless of him to push her like that in front of JJ. He felt a little bad about how inconsiderate it had been to do that as they reached the van. John B didn’t say another word as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked ahead.
There was an odd white tint on the windows leftover from their indiscretion. Like the kind caused by fog that dried up. The smell inside wasn’t any better. Some of it escaped with all the doors opening but it was still present when the engine switched on. Kie and Pope were scrunching up their noses as (Y/N) sunk into her seat, head resting against the window wishing she could become one with the car door. Her heart beat a little quicker as she inhaled the sweat and aroma of sex.
If anybody deciphered exactly what it was, they chose not to mention it.
But it enveloped (Y/N). Hugged her tight and flooded her with what were now sinful memories. Shutting her eyes, her fingertips skimmed across the top of her thigh timidly, the one where JJ had left a hand impression on the side. It sent chills through her body to relive the way his face dug into her. Her thighs retreating into one another as she pictured the almost black eyes watching her come apart under him. If anything served as the biggest reminder, it was the vibrator neatly tucking in JJ’s cum into her squirming body. Her hand moved upwards to pull her hair to one side and squeeze the back of her neck in an effort to calm herself. It was a mistake, a huge mistake to tilt her head back. Because the tormentor of her daydream was already burning holes into her.
JJ could see the lust flash through her eyes. Even from the backseat he could feel the heat emanating towards him. Watching her felt different now. He wasn’t getting a glimpse of her inappropriate thoughts, he was reading them. Observing how they popped up with every touch of her hand. Seeing the sweaty skin displayed by her bare shoulder firsthand and the hint of a darkening bruise that would be visible to those in the backseat if she moved her hair another inch. His fingers itched to replace hers. Going mad with the realization that she was thinking about him. It was his name she had been screaming earlier. The cause of her affliction was JJ this time. His chest was moving a little quicker now that her eyes were confirming what JJ suspected. His hand shifted downwards to tug on his shorts and fix them before his hardening dick became obvious.
“Guys I know this is technically John B’s van, but can you minimize the intimacy in the van. It reeks,” Pope waved his hand in front of his nose dramatically while requesting that one of the two in the front rolled the window down. They had almost managed to get away with it when Pope just had to go and open his mouth about it.
The curve of JJ’s lip tilted upwards as Kie delivered a detrimental blow to Pope’s arm. She was already suspecting something and with the silence in the van intriguing her further, Pope making this type of comment was just unnecessary. (Y/N) couldn’t look at JJ’s triumphant expression for another second longer though.
John B gave a very short and curt, half hearted laugh, hands tightening around the wheel. His chest felt a little tight. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember when the last time they’d had sex in the Twinkie was. It definitely wasn’t recent enough for it to linger this way and it definitely hadn’t been present earlier. Anger flared within him while trying to remain blissfully ignorant as to the obvious signs in front of him.
The eerie quietness for the rest of the ride was only made bearable by the music playing on the radio. Everyone was too distracted in their own thoughts, exchanging wary glances back and forth. Even JJ found John B scowling over at him quite often, but he simply kept his eyes on (Y/N).
The van coming to a stop awoken everyone out of their distractions. John B was the first one out, walking with purpose to get to (Y/N)’s door and reaching it before she could even lift her hand to the handle. Pope left the back first, talking about the leftover cereal from (Y/N)’s little shopping trip he just needed to eat before bed. Kie began to exit, slowing down when she noticed that JJ wasn’t moving at all from where he was sat. If she took her time, she’d be able to catch him by himself and ask him what the fuck was going on.
Her plan seemed to work pretty well considering John B gripped onto (Y/N)’s wrist to pull her inside not paying any mind to the others. The constant loop of emotions was only infuriating him more. The car ride felt hours long, giving him time to envision several scenarios of what might’ve happened. Trying to get rid of those images was proving to be more difficult. He didn’t even realize how upset he actually was until they reached the front door and (Y/N) wiggled her wrist in his grasp. “It hurts,” she was nervous, not because of him but because of the conversation that awaited.
John B eased up on her a fraction of a second after she spoke. He didn’t bother looking back though, boosting (Y/N)’s nerves. “John B,” she tried quietly as he urged them through the living room, through the hallway, and into his bedroom. She could faintly hear Pope rummaging through the cabinets before his bedroom door was opening. Her pulse quickened, the panic bubbling inside of her. But he was unwavering. Setting off an attack of anxiety-fueled nausea through her. Every rushed movement was beckoning her closer to her confession. He wasn’t letting her get a word out, shutting the door behind them. “John B,” he ignored her, urging them over to sit (Y/N) down on the bed.
“Why’d you turn it off?.. When did you turn it off? Where?.. It’s still inside you though, right?” He didn’t actually expect a response to the extensive questions he was throwing her way. He was moving too rapidly to give her time to answer them. John B didn’t even know if he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to rip it off. His lips were set in a fine line, overlooking the tears swelling in her eyes as his knees met the wooden floorboards.
(Y/N) made a steadfast attempt to keep herself covered but his hand boldly flung the dress up. There was both anger and lust etched in his expression. His hands grabbed onto her knees, lunging them to opposite sides with eyes glued to one place and one place only. A choked noise left her lips at the direction he was going towards.
“We need to talk,” the dreaded words every man loathed hearing. He focused in on the sight of the red lace that had a slight bump over it where the vibrator was located. The discussion she wanted to have was the last thing on his mind right now. He chose to exist in the expectation of how this night was supposed to go rather than the reality.
“I don’t want to talk right (Y/N),” he insisted. Her cheeks felt wet and palms clammy. Lungs constricting in a frightening way with a heavy chest as she stumbled through finding the courage to spit it out. All the while he moved at too rapid of a pace for her to process. Attempting to close her thighs went horribly wrong, his hand flying over to keep them from closing.
It was purely on instinct. But unbeknownst to John B, his hand covered up the bruise left by his best friend. She winced from the pain, fingers twisting around the edge of the bed. His hand moved from there to the hem of her panties, snapping them to the side.
“John B stop,” her pleading went unheard due to the ringing in his ears. His fingers latched onto the end of it and began to pull it out.
The air escaped her lungs.
Her hand flung out to swat at his hand but his brawn was no match.
“John B- JJ and I-,” despite her cry, it was too late.
It felt like everything in the planet and beyond became deadly silent.
A pin could drop and you’d hear it in Australia.
He only managed to get it out halfway before the milky white substance was seeping out from the sides.
The next millisecond was the longest John B had ever experienced. His face went pale. There was no way for her to explain herself out of this one. The sight was so distinct. It was so obviously cum that didn’t belong to him. Every stress-filled interaction crashed together inside him in a long-awaited train wreck. The way his throat would dry when JJ would go silent into a trance upon (Y/N)’s bubbly entrance. His blue eyes would get just a little brighter at her goofiness and matching banter. Her laugh would be just a smidgen higher when he did his very JJ things. She’d melt whenever he would sweetly request something of her, in a way that was supposed to have been a joke from both sides. However, the punchline to the joke seemed to be him.
In the millisecond that followed, John B lurched away from her like she had caught fire. The feeling of disgust was a harsh contrast to what he was feeling before. The woman before him was one he didn’t recognize any longer. It couldn’t be his (Y/N) sitting on the edge of his bed. No. That girl loved him. That girl would’ve never done something like this. A sound was made as the sex toy fell out the rest of the way reminding him that she indeed had. His blood boiled with rage. The edge of the panty line snapping back and startling her out of her anguish.
“John B I’m so sorry-,”
“Are you fucking serious?” He seethed watching as she jumped up from the bed, tears falling down her cheeks while struggling to catch a breath. But he pulled back from her letting his anger fuel the desire to see her vanish from his vicinity. “Don’t fucking touch me,” his voice boomed out, making her flinch away from him. She’d never seen him this furious before. It was her fault though. She deserved his reaction.
John B didn’t need to ask who was to blame because he already knew the answer to that question. Even with his name falling from her lips moments as he took it out, the clear image of a smirking JJ from the Boneyard asking if he had lost her made him lose it. His best friend was to be held just as responsible. Before he could properly process what he was doing, the door swung open with determination. The sound it made as it hit the wall echoed throughout the house alarming everyone and undoubtedly leaving a doorknob sized hole in its wake.
(Y/N) chased after him, knowing exactly who he was looking for. “No John B,” she called out after him, sprinting to catch up to him. Even though he just looked like he was walking, his speed was astonishing. His head scanned around the empty kitchen and then the living room where Kie was bouncing up from the couch with wide eyes. “What’s wrong? What’re you looking for?” she asked exasperatedly, quickly reaching the conclusion that John B was fuming. There would be steam coming out of his ears if that was actually possible.
“Where’s JJ- I’m gonna kill him,” John B stated without hesitation as the toilet flushed from down the hallway. Before John B could get to it, (Y/N)’s palms were pushing back at his rock hard chest, muscles tight from rage.
“John B stop- this is my fault. It’s mine, nobody else’s but mine,” (Y/N) could barely keep in the sob as John B reacted quickly, moving away from her once again. His eyes were dark and empty, face completely emotionless except for the red hot anger. The sight of him becoming physically ill from her touch shattered her into pieces. Her body was shaking. She knew this is what would happen but nothing could’ve actually prepared her for it. Nobody warned her about what it would feel like to watch the love someone has for you drain from their face.
“I said don’t fucking touch me. Why are you even here, huh? Thought it would be fun to slum your way through Pogues?” John B’s hurled accusation was meant to hurt, meant to be offensive. He wanted her to really feel the same pain he was. He thought one day she might leave him for his best friend. Had pretended like it was his mind playing tricks on him. Never in a million years did he think this would happen. He was unable to breathe properly as he stared intently towards the opening bathroom door. He stretched his neck out to see who it was, only relaxing it back when Pope emerged from the bathroom. “What’s going on?” he gazed around at everyone having heard the door and shouting from where he was, eyes eventually honing in on the state (Y/N) was in.
John B laughed with no humor behind it and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. JJ fucked my slut of a girlfriend. My best friend fucking creampied her,” his head shook in disbelief, “He fucked her in the van while we were all looking for her,” John B’s voice was laced with venom watching as she curled in on herself without caring about how she felt. He put two and two together easily. The way she recoiled at the accusation only confirmed it, setting him off further as he took a step forward. “He did didn’t he? You opened your legs for him in the fucking Twinkie.” This was different from when he called her dirty names in the safety behind closed doors. He meant these humiliating words. Her crying was the only thing heard in the momentary silence. (Y/N) covered her chest with her arms as if to protect the imaginary physical wound that he inflicted. “Woah dude- wait, you’ve gotta chill out,” Pope moved with caution between him and (Y/N), holding his hand out to stop John B from moving any further. Not because he’d do anything, because the situation was getting too heated. He was hearing a bit too much information than needed, but if any of it was true he knew John B was on a unstoppable war path.
“Where’s JJ?” He was steady in his pursuit, unbothered by his friend who was trying to settle the situation at hand. “Jesus- He left! I talked to him outside and he left, alright?!” Kie yelled out at him, pulling his attention to the girl. “You’ve gotta calm down. Fighting him and hurting her isn’t gonna solve anything,” Kie reasoned in a slightly lower volume, but nonetheless still loud, while laying an attentive hand on his shoulder. Usually it was (Y/N) doing this. Asking him to cool off without speaking, just looking. It was a harsh reality to accept that she wasn’t. The disappointment to find out JJ hadn’t even made it past the front door was clear in the way his hand jerked. He swirled around on his feet to face (Y/N) again, looking past Pope.
“Get out.”
“John B, please let me talk to you.” Her voice was horse from all the crying. It was without a doubt asking for too much to have a civil conversation with John B right now. But her heart was squeezing in her chest and she couldn’t bare the thought of leaving things like this. Her mind struggled to find any words that would bring him peace. There was probably none that would. She had tried to avoid this… hadn’t she? Didn’t she keep asking him to stop? Or couldn’t she have just pulled away from his hold? The fact that was even a question in her mind made her chest swell with oncoming tears.
John B stiffened up taking another step forward that landed Pope’s hand onto his chest this time. “(Y/N) get the fuck out!” The conviction in his voice made her bottom lip quiver. Kie was angry at her but it was also difficult to watch (Y/N) break down like this. Since she’d joined them, they’d been inseparable. It was nice of course to have all the boys around but there was things she could talk to (Y/N) about that she couldn’t with them. A sense of trust and friendship that had formed during girl talk. She knew there was no excuse for her friends actions, but it was still difficult to watch the fallout unfold. “I’ll take her home and then I’ll be right back,” Kie offered as she went to the couch searching for her keys figuring that would be a way she could help them both. “Kie get her out of here right fucking now,” John B’s nostrils flared not having the capacity to continue looking at (Y/N).
“She’s going man, she’s going. Let’s just go outside,” Pope tried leading him out the back while Kie smacked a pillow in frustration, wondering where she set her keys down before they left.
But it was all too much for (Y/N).
The pure disdain from John B was appropriate. The way they were referring to her in third person now, as if she’d never been a Pogue, was also fitting but it all pierced her heart. She’d lost him and the rest of her true family over what? A hook-up? Another notch on JJ’s belt? She didn’t even have a clue.
“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) grabbed her phone making her way to the door as Kie moved to stop her, “I’ll get home. Just stay with him.”
Kie called out for her in an effort to get her to rethink and wait just a few more minutes for her. But either she didn’t hear it or she chose not to.
The way the screen door slammed behind her seemed to signify the end to a lot more than what she could yet imagine or even handle.
Her legs were wobbly as she made her way down the beaten path. It took her a few minutes to gather her strength before she was able to walk away from the house without tripping over nothing. The adrenaline racing from the intensity of the fight urged her legs to move faster. She couldn’t help but punish herself by reliving every second of it. The look on John B’s face when he removed the toy made her insides churn. The image would be scarred into her memory. It seemed like every other special, beautiful moment they shared was erased from existence. She wanted to turn back time, find a million different ways to come clean that didn’t include a stupid fucking vibrator. Without even noticing, her sprint gradually tripled in speed until it turned into full fledged running and weeping down his neighborhood. A car past her by at some point but she didn’t even see it through the haze of her tears.
With time passing by faster than she noticed, she felt her chest slowing to a calmer state and cheeks drying. It was only then, when every heightened sense took an undeserved respite, that her speed lowered. Things were more visible now that it felt like she had cried every drop she physically could. It only felt like minutes in the middle of her attack, but she’d managed to make it quite a distance. The convenience store John B normally drove to when he picked up some late night cravings during her periods came into view and almost made her collapse in the process. Walking to her house from here would most likely take the whole night and (Y/N) probably could make it if she was feeling extra ballsy. But as she eyed the dimly lit street ahead and the little twenty-four hour mini-mart that threatened the shaky stability she had found, she knew tonight was not that night.
Her phone screen lit up her face, swiping up to open the device when it recognized her. (Y/N) let out a trembling breath as she made her way to her Uber app, ordering one to her current location so that she could be dropped off in Figure Eight. Once it was charged to the card her dad had opened for her, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her dad really only checked her account to re-up her money so there wasn’t a high chance of him questioning her on a late night Uber drive when she was supposed to be sleeping over at Kie’s, but even if he did see it, the argument that would ensue seemed vastly unimportant compared to everything else.
A wave of emotions risked another waterfall. In contrary to her previous belief, apparently she might never stop crying. Waiting there for the driver, all she could think about was John B. The coldness he aimed her way. He had meant every single belittling word and (Y/N) felt like it was well-deserved. She wanted to blame JJ. It would be so easy to do it considering the predicament she had been in when he followed after her. One that he had been very well aware of.
But as much as she wanted to do that, the truth was she wanted JJ in that moment. Not John B, but JJ. The look in his blue eyes when they were sitting in front of the bonfire had ignited a buried desire for him. There was actually way too many instances where she had craved JJ in the way she had him tonight. Odd moments where they were left alone for one reason or another, creating tension amongst themselves with inappropriate thoughts and stolen glances of the other. It was really her fault for not admitting it to herself sooner. All of this could’ve been avoided if she had stopped lying to herself.
The honk of the horn brought her back from her zoned out state. (Y/N) made her way into the vehicle that matched the one in the app, giving the man a weak smile. He asked her something, but her brain didn’t make sense of it. She curled up into the door similar to the way she had in the van earlier, choosing to get lost in the palm trees rather than hold a meaningless conversation with someone she’d never meet again. The silence he was met with was a clear indication that she wanted to opt out of the friendly chatter and arrive at her destination.
The driver picked up the hint, starting his drive to the address given without another hitch. Even blessing her with the grace of ignoring the faint weeping in the backseat. She was torn up inside, grieving the loss of her boyfriend while also struggling with whether she actually regretted it or not. Saying she did would just be a distasteful lie. Confronting John B over this had sent her headfirst into the veracity of her feelings.
The rest of the drive felt empty. There wasn’t a living soul out when they rode down her street. Her own house had all the lights off, it gave off an eerie looking vibe at this time of night. The driver came to a stop at her gate, letting her get off there so she could enter through the gate door next to the car entrance. Her mumbled thank you was politely acknowledged with a small wave and head bow before she exited.
The walk from the warm car through the freezing temperature of the night to the coziness of her bedroom was exhausting in her numb state. She was beyond glad no one was awake because she didn’t have the energy to deal with her dad who would pester her with questions. Or Wheezie who would try to get all up in her business for nothing other than the sake of living up to the stereotype of nosy little sisters. Rose would just put on her motherly act that seemed to bother her too much to play well so it would just end up sucking more energy from (Y/N).
And Rafe- well Rafe might be the only one that could cross her path. He wouldn’t care enough to even notice her presence. But he was most likely still at the Boneyard with the other Kooks anyways inhaling too much coke.
A relaxing bath sounded perfect right now, with some bubbles and candles. She could play one of her mellow playlists in the background. Something relaxing, not sad, because she’d be right back where she started. She didn’t know if she’d actually retrieve the candles from the second floor linen closet or even have the energy to search for her speaker but at least the bubbles she could reach from inside the bathtub. The rest she could leave up to her imagination.
Her feet dragged all the way up to the third floor, past the expensive paintings and family portraits, and to her bedroom. All of the lights in the hallway made it hard for her to see in the pitch black of her bedroom. (Y/N) preferred it that way anyways. Her back rested against the door once it shut, one hand on the doorknob still feeling like she couldn’t get a decent amount of oxygen into her lungs. Her head lifted just to bang back on the door delivering a sting to the back of her head that didn’t actually quell the emotional pain.
She was about to go into her bathroom when she saw the infamous red baseball cap on the grey chair, lined with silver around the edges, that sat in front of the window. The moonlight pouring in from the window was shining down on it like a spotlight, alerting her to the presence of the boy that seemed to be everywhere lately.
The fact that it was in such perfect view made her tilt her head slightly, not looking away from it. It was almost like he had made sure to leave it in sight so that they could bypass the obvious jump scare that would’ve occurred otherwise. Her back stood a little straighter, heart caving just the tiniest bit at the gesture.
And that’s exactly why JJ had done it. Her bloodshot eyes and lifeless expression were proof he’d been right in doing so. He had wanted to be there for her when they got out of the van, gut still twisting with the way John B had grabbed onto (Y/N). But he was aware now that he was just a coward. With no clue as to how to make it up to her. After the conversation with Kie, he’d gotten on his bike and rode away. He was supposed to go home, face Luke’s wrath about his week long disappearance since the Chateau would obviously be off limits for the foreseeable future. But the pull he felt was strong, as powerful as gravity.
That’s how JJ had ended up pacing on the other side of the wall that separated Ward Cameron and the rest of his Kook family from the outside world. He was drawn to a place he’d never stepped foot in. He’d only gotten as far as the driveway the one time he road with John B to surprise (Y/N) and pick her up for a rowdy night. They had watched her slip out of her bedroom window and proceed to climb down the enormous tree next to the roof. He’d been enamored by her that night like he was all the time, thrown off by her spontaneity. Every corner JJ turned, he found another reason to fall for this girl. It hadn’t taken him long to decide to hop it once the image of her pretty face remained too long in his imagination. The possibility that she might be a little… hostile about his intrusion didn’t dissuade him.
He’d already been there for a long time, enough to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming. He started off with sitting down on the same seat the hat was resting on before moving towards the edge of the bed. When time kept passing, he laid down on the comfortable king sized mattress. Then he discarded his articles of clothing until he was in his boxers, not wanting to dirty the comforter. He knows she’d wave off the silliness in that but he didn’t want to taint the pristine state of her bedroom. The ridiculous amount of pillows around his body tempted him into a deep slumber but the concern at how late it was getting and her not arriving put a hold on that. JJ was even getting close to calling Kie when the door had finally opened.
The sight of her hitting her head tugged at the strings of his heart. He was appalled with himself. Feeling unworthy of even being here knowing that he had left her to handle the fallout on her own. No amount of persuading from Kie to give John B a couple of days should of been enough to stop him from greeting her at the door with his outstretched arms when she walked out. But in all honesty, it was his own decision to put off the confrontation with John B and reencounter with (Y/N) after such a heavy revelation. He wouldn’t even blame her if she never wanted to see him again.
But when her shoulders slouched as she turned towards the bed and her weary eyes acclimated to the darkness, JJ didn’t see an ounce of malice hidden in them.
“You know breaking and entering is an arrest-able offense?”
She sounded defeated as her arms found sanctuary in the slot of her back between the door. JJ sat up slightly, resting his back against the cushioned headrest. The fanciest thing he’s probably ever laid on. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. JJ had expected to be yelled at, maybe thrown an object or two, then kicked out the window or through the door depending on her generosity. Instead of accusations or bitterness, he was met with a thinly veiled playful threat. And that was a million times better than being on her bad side.
“Call the cops on me then.” It was just as much to test out the waters as it was to avoid the topic at hand. It was so painfully obvious to him that things had gone considerably worse than JJ expected when (Y/N) was choosing to engage in some light-hearted banter before he could even bring it up. Which she pretended to contemplate for a moment from where she stayed put against the door. She knew that what he said wasn’t by any means considered lewd language but just because it was JJ and JJ’s voice saying it while fully displaying his six pack under the gleam of the moonlight, her mind went a little off track.
“I knew I probably couldn’t crash at the Chateau and home just..” he didn’t have to continue it. (Y/N) had bought a full sized First Aid kit to keep on hand for whenever JJ would need to be patched up. It was safely stashed away in the bathroom closet at JB’s so that she could tend to his wounds.
(Y/N) pursed her lips fully aware that she hadn’t actually been planning on kicking him out but just the fact that his only option was going to Luke’s if she did left her with a queasy stomach. They watched one another in silence, JJ hanging on to the anticipation of waiting for her reply. When his fingers ran through his hair in an attempt to ease the stress, (Y/N) finally pushed off from the door.
“The left side of the bed is mine,” her eyes flickered to the empty right side and JJ got the hint, “I will be building a Wall of China that you cannot cross. Lock the bathroom door when you use it. The rest of the house is off limits because my dad might have a heart attack if he sees you and Wheezie’s a snitch or a blackmailer depending on her mood and what day of the week it is,” with a lock of the door, she was making her way towards the front of the bed, “Rafe would just be unpleasant to run into, and this is the most important rule so listen very closely Maybank.. If you turn my fan off, I will make sure you suffer,” bringing attention to the hum of the fan that JJ remembered had indeed been turned on this whole time.
A small amused smile played on JJ’s lips at the list of rules she gave him. He was so engrossed in her every move, still finding her beautiful even in the midst of chaos. It was easier to play this game of pretend, like nothing had happened. As if his presence in her home was somewhat normal. It certainly felt more normal than it should. “Anything else warden?” JJ teased as he scooted over on the bed. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she came around the corner to lay her phone on the nightstand.
“I’m gonna take a bath so… leave me alone,” she smiled unenthusiastically hooking the phone up to her charger that was awaiting and keeping a cool demeanor. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore his playful mood, JJ held an unmatched power to distract her from the reality of the situation.
“A bath, huh?”
“Yes a bath.”
“I think you should go to bed like that.”
(Y/N) paused, all too familiar with what it felt like to have his eyes digging into her by now. She knew what he was insinuating, that she should lay down with her cum soaked panties. She didn’t move her gaze away from the nightstand, legs shifting as she felt the wave of heat washing over her. She couldn’t help but curse herself internally, mad at herself for having no control over her reactions.
“I think a bath is what I need.”
“I think sleeping would be much better.”
“I think I’m right.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
Air puffed out from her lips as she turned to face him, meeting his eyes like she had expected to. He was so annoying that (Y/N) could smother him in his sleep with one of her pillows. But the mischief in his eyes was beckoning her over. Seeing as he was unwilling to back down, she figured she could wait until he fell asleep to wash off the remainder of tonight. There was no way to get past JJ when he got this stubborn, not a single word would persuade him otherwise and she knew it.
JJ smiled jubilantly when she puffed up pillows in the middle of the bed to separate them instead of continuing the back and forth. He wouldn’t deny he was mostly eager to have her close again, especially seeing as she was actually letting him stay. Every second next to her felt counted, like his minutes were almost up and he had to soak in every detail. He slid down in the bed again while she moved to the dresser, pulling out a plain, worn out t-shirt. His eyes were on her every move, being able to observe her more than he was normally able to.
(Y/N) wanted to grab a pair of pajamas, or at least pajama shorts since JJ would be sleeping over. But if there was one thing she despised, it was wearing anything other than a simple raggedy t-shirt and panties to bed. She could grab a pair of pajama shorts but she knew if he ended up staying for anything longer than a couple days she’d eventually give in to her irritating body heat and remove them. And considering the fact that JJ had already had the privilege of getting a very clear picture of her lower half naked, there was nothing left to hide.
Still though, as she approached the bed, she twirled her fingers in a circle. Just because she’d be laying down in underwear didn’t mean he needed to see her change.
“Really?” JJ asked like it was stupid to even make him turn around. His eyes moved to her chest then, becoming all too aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten the chance to see her properly when he bent her over in the Twinkie.
“Seriously.” She didn’t move an inch until JJ, very begrudgingly might she add, faced away from her. Her hand moved to the back of her neck once she was sure that JJ couldn’t see her, undoing the straps with a quick pull. Once the dress was off her body, (Y/N) slipped on the t-shirt. She hadn’t bothered to ruin a fresh pair of panties when she knew she’d be escaping to bathe as soon as he was snoring at her side.
The bed dipped next to him when (Y/N) laid down, but he couldn’t catch a single glimpse of her past the wall of pillows. JJ sighed, glancing upwards at the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling. They were cute. It felt like he was getting an insight to her private life. One that he wanted to be a part of. The sleep that had fought him earlier was nowhere to be found. Not when he was in (Y/N)’s house. In her perfectly decorated room. Incapable of falling asleep in her comfy bed with a mountain of pillows when she was laying only a couple of feet from him, with a t-shirt on and his cum inside her.
“Would you stop huffing and puffing over there and just sleep already?” (Y/N) would be lying if she said that was the only thing keeping her up. She had been worried that once her head hit the pillows she would be too exhausted to stay up for a bath. Yet now that she was actually here, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning. The air felt thick enough to the point that she’d even be willing to smoke a blunt to relax. But the weed wouldn’t extinguish this tension, it would probably only heighten it.
“My bad. You’ve just got a stupid amount of pillows here and I can’t seem to catch my breath,” he shrugged his shoulders to himself, tilting back to the pesky wall. JJ found warmth under the covers but craved to get it from her body instead. He knew it was a bad idea but the temptation kept unwinding and growing. The opportunity was there, just how it had been earlier. An idea crept into his mind as he heard her shuffle around. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the comment, landing on her side that wasn’t in his direction. “And? They’re comfortable,” she explained, even though she really didn’t have to. She bent her elbow to place it under the pillow trying to find the perfect spot to relax in although it seemed to be impossible to accomplish.
JJ’s arm reached out to play with one of tags on the pillow, running it between his fingers. “It’s suffocating is what it is. And there can’t be anything comfortable about living in the North Pole,” referring to the fan hitting them directly at full blast. JJ didn’t actually mind it, he was just enjoying the teasing that was always awarded with some form of response. His fingers started tugging on the tag, focused on dismantling the first obstacle and allowing her hair to become visible.
“Well-,” (Y/N)’s witty response was halted by the small noise that suspiciously sounded like her barrier was being broken through. Her fingers lazily played with the satin sheets acting like she was unaffected. She knew exactly what he wanted but refused to give in. “I’ll make sure to remind them to tidy up your five star room in prison if you keep complaining.”
JJ chuckled, removing the second pillow with more ease now that the one above it had been tossed behind him. Her backside was in sight now, hair loose and sprawled messily above the white of her bedsheets. The t-shirt had settled into the dip of her hips, making his tongue poke out to wet his bottom lip. There was something different about being here. Something that was charging his body with electricity. “You’d never turn me in.”
“It’s never too late,” (Y/N) breathed out in a hurry as the ruffling behind her increased. Her pulse jumped anticipating JJ’s next move. It was bewildering how much he disrupted her system on a cellular level. He hadn’t even touched her and she was finding it hard to inhale normally knowing that he’d be upon her soon. It should’ve been easy to reach behind her and chastise him for breaking her rules not even 20 minutes in, but it was actually aggravatingly challenging to do so.
“You want me to-,” suddenly, without warning, his defined chest was pressing into her back, evoking a loud hitch in her breath, “grab your phone for you to call?” JJ’s fingers crawled onto the tip of her curve, softly dipping a pointer finger under the lacy fabric. Her skin felt so soft and pliant. Her body quivered under him, only invigorating him. JJ’s lowered voice was much closer to her making her ankles lock together tightly. He was attempting to distract her with his words, very well knowing that she’d never be capable of such a thing.
“JJ you can’t do that,” she completely disregarded the question now, her entire mind faltering from the way his solid chest felt against her back. Despite her protest, she didn’t lift a feather to stop him. Not even her voice was convincing. Her own heart was beating rapidly against her rib cage. They had already done this dance earlier and it had led to a huge fallout. Possibly irreparable damage. Except he was some sort of magician, that made her lose her sanity with the flick of a wand. There was no mistaking the way she got lost in the waves of blue in his eyes on the ride back to the Chateau. She had almost gotten on her knees right then and there with no care on Earth for those around them.
JJ caught on to the affect he had on her like the true devil he was. “Why?” His body flawlessly molded into the crook of her back like he’s always belonged there. Hand taking its time moving around the arch of her hip and downward to knead into the flesh in an achingly cruel way that had her head spinning. A pitiful whine was held back so that it wouldn’t fuel the desire swirling between them. But it was hard to do so when he was consuming her senses. His masculine smell bear-hugging her, his touch sending shivers down her spine.
“Because- Because John-,”
“John B isn’t here (Y/N),” JJ knew that was his best friend, but damn if he heard John B’s name one more time, “he’s already mad. What’s a second time gonna hurt?” His hand proceeded to move upwards, making a straight line up the side of her body and inching her shirt off along with it. She didn’t think her heart could palpate with anymore vigor than it was. (Y/N) was struggling to keep up the façade, JJ had already slithered his way past her pillow barrier and was doing the same to the imaginary one surrounding her. She must’ve fully warped under his spell because something logical coming from JJ couldn’t be right. “Then stop because it’s wrong,” her voice was higher pitched, waiting for the arrival of JJ’s unforgiving fingers on her breasts.
But JJ was villainous. Intent on unraveling her. He only managed to get one of her breasts to pop out, the other half of her chest still covered while his hand lifted up slightly so only the pad of his finger was tracing the outline of her side boob. There was a familiar neediness spreading inside that plagued her. She went from wanting to off him to reeling from his teasing. He refused to give in to her because she was obviously yearning for him in a similar fashion. And he’d make her admit it. Make her beg for it as many times as he pleased. “That’s not how this game works Princess,” he tsked into the space between her neck and her ear, fanning his hot breath down her heaving cleavage.
His tone was disapproving, like she should know better than that now. “The only way I’m stopping (Y/N), is if you tell me to. Tell me it would’ve made no difference which one of us found you first. Tell me right now you aren’t soaking between your legs.” JJ needed to hear it almost as much as he needed oxygen to survive. If she didn’t want him to abandon whatever was erupting between them, she needed to say it. If she didn’t want him in the same way he desperately needed, he’d get dressed, leave, and stay far away from her and John B. But he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle that form of banishment from her life.
Luckily for him, her resolve weakened with the swipe of his tongue against her earlobe and the hidden fear making its way into his voice. She pushed the side of her face into the fluffiness of her pillow in a last ditch effort to remain passive while her body went headfirst into the sinful pleasure, pressing her bottom into his hardening length. Her breathing stuttered hearing the deep groan it illicited from him. It was instant relief for the both of them, her pussy clenching at the feel of his erection digging into her. JJ couldn’t explain how hot it was to see her fight her own bodily desire for him. “I can’t tell you that,” she barely got out. The sensual touches and intentional build up had her thighs sliding together. Breathing around him was something her body forgot how to do.
JJ’s forehead fell onto her shoulder, matching her heavy breaths now that she was confirming what he so badly wanted to hear. He grasped her exposed tit, tugging until her back was arching along with it. Incapable of refraining himself with her submitting to him. “JJ,” she gasped out feeling a pull on the back of her shirt where it was stuck under her side. “Tell me what you need then,” he commanded in the very same tone from earlier that made her vision hazy and brain foggy.
“I need you J,” her body relinquished control with a small whine, obeying his orders by lifting up slightly from the bed to remove the t-shirt. She moved to face him, wanting nothing more than to run her fingers over the surface of his toned physique, but JJ used the grip on her breast to return her to her previous position. They weren’t in a rush this time. There was no boyfriend expecting her to return. No one to answer to in the dead of night. JJ had the advantage of time and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.
His crotch rutting into her once in tandem with the flick of his finger over her nipple caused her mouth to drop open and a shudder to overtake her. “That’s how much I need you (Y/N),” he moaned, making her keen while his teeth grazed her shoulder blade. Every bit of her was intoxicating, like an addicting drug he was handing over his willpower to. The temptation was too much to handle. His fingers finally skimmed to the top of her panties, sliding under the thin material with ease and urgency. (Y/N) tilted her knee upwards so that he had more space at his disposal, fully letting herself succumb to JJ.
The second his hand connected with her slick mound her long eyelashes fluttered, a deep groan paving its way out. His index and middle finger slid around her clit, putting pressure on it by pressing into the sides. His semen mixing with her arousal allowed JJ to glide his fingers up and down with ease. “Oh f-fuck,” she sputtered out arm hastily wrapping around his. JJ was more vocal this time, moaning again from the feel of her sodden pussy. It urged him to grind up against her again finding relief in the contour of her body.
JJ’s free arm snuck it’s way under her neck, curving enough to be able to reach her hardened nipple. He twisted and squeezed relentlessly until he heard her cry out from the stimulation. His lips laid open mouthed kisses around her shoulders, sucking slightly with every pause. JJ didn’t falter though, he pulled on her nipple while adding extra pressure to her clit as he continued to stroke his fingers through her velvety folds. Her strangled moans were making his hard on throb from how wrecked she already sounded. (Y/N) couldn’t put together a single thought in her head, only feel the pleasure exploding inside her like fireworks.
“Fuck you feel so good, dripping again for me. Still leaking my cum,” JJ could no longer hold back as he sunk his teeth into the same spot of her upper body that he had been abusing, biting down until there was a metallic flavor soothing his tastebuds. His tongue licked up the wound, a carnal instinct forcing him to do something he never had even imagined would turn him on. However, the action sent him onto cloud nine, a high like no other. A groan vibrating against the broken skin.
Never had somebody bit her before and yet there was an embarrassing amount of slickness added to the mess between her legs. Her mouth gaped, opening with a high pitched, “Ah”. His muscles flexed under her grip as his fingers moved with more urgency feeling the result of what his action did to her. He couldn’t explain the feeling bursting inside his chest at the fact that she glowed under his barbaric behavior. (Y/N)’s head tilted to the side where JJ met her cheek with his nose. Face contorted from the waves of pain jolting through her that were mixing in with the ones of pleasure crashing into her mercilessly.
Her legs intertwined with his, tightening around his calves in order to receive some sort of grounding through the ferocity of his actions. “You like that? Like when I use my fingers to make you feel good?” JJ purred through hooded blue eyes watching her bottom lip tremble from the pleasure. He was vicious in his assaults, having to stop her thighs from shutting with a knee into the crease of her ass. As much as he wanted to shove his fingers into her hungry cunt, he wanted to make her fall apart by just playing with the sensitive nub. “Yes, love it J, I-,” her mouth paused while open, hips jutting out as JJ quickened his pace. She wanted to tell him she wouldn’t last long but he wasn’t letting her breathe.
“Is this what you were imagining in the van? My fingers inside of you, my tongue licking every inch of your pussy?” JJ murmured making her back straighten out and hearing her wheeze when he switched to a circular motion and back. Her previous orgasms had already been so intense that she was at risk of slipping away in the ecstasy. Her toes curled around the edge of the bedsheet panting into the air. (Y/N) was fully immersed in the vehement drag of his fingers and the hot puffs of air that electrified her skin. “Stay here f’me,” it was JJ’s dominating tone mixing with one of uneasiness that lulled her out of the fog, “that’s it pretty girl. Answer my question.”
He coerced a response out of her before she could drift away from him. JJ’s fingers switching to figure eight motions as she arched her back with a particularly loud yelp of his name then returning to the previous movement before she had time to adjust. Watching her so worked up had his cock aching to find its way back into her. His precum was forming a new stain in his boxers from the intensity of their hushed words and the symphony of her fluctuating breaths and resounding moans. He wanted to sheathe himself with her cunt until she become too stupid to speak almost as much as he enjoyed watching her surrender her satisfaction to him. “All I.. All I could think about was you.”
“Fuck,” JJ cracked, steadily building up the momentum so that he was rubbing his clothed dick against her. “Bet you would’ve let me rail you in front of them- let me clean your soaked pussy and then fuck your throat dry,” he grunted finding the release he was desperate for as he slid in the slit of her ass. The sensation flooded every fiber of her being, words bringing out her kinks as confirmed by the tightening of her pussy around him. “Yes,” she admitted with watering eyes. JJ’s control was slipping, acting like a teenage boy with raging hormones as he dry humped her desperately spurred on by her confession. She was open just the perfect amount for his hard tip to probe against her tight back entrance. The fabric of the boxers between them being the only thing stopping him. Her eyes were the only thing that moved to find his darkened ones in a wary haste. By the quick lock of their gaze, her wide eyes told JJ those were uncharted waters. “I’m gonna destroy your ass next.”
All it took was the exquisite combination of an adjustment of his finger and a brush of his nose against her cheek. The lively movements of his rutting alongside the lewd promise of exploring more of her body. Another meaningful jab at her bundle of nerves and she was seeing white hot fury littered with black specks behind her eyes. “Holy fuck JJ,” she panted with a whine, losing any thought process in the climax that made her nerve endings burst. The unexpected strength she had to close her legs forced JJ’s knee from its place but his fingers didn’t lose the relentless pace. She rode out her high with sharp breathing, crying his name out through the ripples of her orgasm. Her entire body squirming during his softening pace to ease her back.
He issued an uncanny amount of praises into her ear that she was only able to hear the end of. Gulping air in chunks to feed her lungs. JJ was absolutely gone for her, his insides doing cartwheels at the sound of his name during her apex. The way her face twisted, body turning into a writhing mess, it was all thanks to his doing. (Y/N) didn’t notice him all-consumed by her, absorbing every ounce of her undoing. Her hand that wasn’t wrapped in his arm, reached over to grip his hair that had sweaty ends matted to his forehead. “Doing so. fucking. well. f’me, such a good girl,” he praised with repeated eskimo kisses to her cheek. The neglected emotions seeping out through the affectionate action were far too much to handle in the daze. She wanted to scream from the overpowering feeling.
JJ slowed his movements to give her a moment to calm down. His lips took advantage of her tilted head to curve around her jawline and press gentle kisses that made seemingly soft impressions on her skin. He had initially intended on making this an entire night thing, but it has been almost an entire night. His greediness couldn’t ignore that she almost rode off into a space he couldn’t reach her at. And that his cock was in dire risk of ceasing to exist.
When her eyes became more focused and face met his, their heads tilted to clash together. Any instructions JJ had for her became mute as she read his mind and flipped her body over without breaking the kiss. A lip-numbing, teeth clashing with need, tongue fighting kiss that took away any breath she had managed to catch. It recharged her drained energy to full power.
His hand moved to brutally squeeze at her other boob. Their bodies pushing one another back with every frenzied attempt to be closer. His head would force her to bend her neck backwards as he lifted up into her before she was leaning forward and putting him in the same position. Retreating only to catch a second of air before going back to the same. It was in the middle of the disorder that JJ was able to dislodge his boxers from his body. (Y/N) maneuvered out of the last piece of clothing that was now being unjustly held accountable for the fact that she just couldn’t get close enough. He flipped her onto her back, bleeding into the slot between her legs that he would swear was made for him.
JJ propped up onto his elbows to break the kiss, lungs in need of taking in air. She moved to chase him with her lips but he rose up higher making her head plop back down. (Y/N) let out a disgruntled noise, about to break out into hives if he didn’t get inside her. Her body was sore, close to surpassing her limit but she wanted to feel full of him. Wanted to him to use her to reach levels of pleasure that he hadn’t experienced yet. But his eyes did a soft lulling once over of her naked body, halting her pleas. Months of playful prodding at the other, lingering glances, and shyly stealing innocent touches at random times had all progressed to this day. To the moment that he could take in all of her, in every way possible.
Then he repeated it. Analyzing. Memorizing. Mulling over every detail that might seem insignificant to someone else but it was everything to him.
Now that he was above her, the only thing he was capable of doing was concentrate on every detail of her body. The curvature of her perky boobs, the dampness pooling at her core, the glossy look in her eyes. His hand moved flat down her stomach, leaving a trail of tingles behind. The way she let her body be conquered by his touch left him speechless. After spending what felt like a lifetime living in the shadow of her presence, his chest was close to caving in under the reciprocation of his emotions. “You’re gorgeous,” he spoke in disbelief that someone like her would ever let someone like him taint her innocence, but she was anything except that. (Y/N) was his sweet, filthy girl. His thumb grazed against her pelvic bone before spreading her legs onto the surface of the bed to look further down. He caught sight of her pluckered nub poking past her folds, entire vagina slippery with the arousal and cum that was everywhere from the stained sheets to her inner thighs. JJ had to physically hold back a guttural noise stopping himself before he leaned down and stuffed his entire face into her.
She gnawed on her reddened bottom lip, overwhelmed with the admiration and desire in his eyes. “J,” she pleaded softly, close to liquefying under the fortitude of his stare. It was only JJ that had her mewling, entrapping her in a bubble of fantasies and a four letter word dangerously close to spilling from her lips with just a glance. The intensity of the raw emotion was close to suffocating her. (Y/N) couldn’t take it any longer, lifting her bottom from the bed to grab his attention attempting to sway him back to the task at hand. The pressing of his knuckles on her bruised inner thigh let her know it worked. His eyes seemed to refocus on her glistening center. JJ’s hand wrapped around the hilt of his length, pumping his length over her pelvic bone. “Look at that baby- that’s how deep I’m gonna be,” he taunted, the end of solid member close to her belly button. Before she had time to react, he was swiping up her vagina to collect his cum and her juices on his head before smearing it with a downward swipe and strangled, “fuck.”
“Oh,” (Y/N)’s shaky voice spoke over his, an iron grip forming on the bed sheets at her sides. Her back arched as a breathless moan escaped her when he didn’t stop. Every swipe just barely teased her with the tip sliding past her folds, giving her a minuscule taste only to move away. Her hips moved to meet his but he didn’t show mercy. “So fucking messy. Look so pretty when you’re so dirty,” the corner of his lip tugged up, relishing in her undoing. Inflicting as much torture as he had felt from not being able to just grab her when he wanted to. The sloshing sound was so fowl, so lewd and vicious that it was the only thing they could hear. “Please JJ, need your cock. Need it, I need it so bad, please-.”
“Do you? Never knew you were such a cockslut (Y/N),” he cut her off, one particular swipe against her bundle of nerves tightened the muscles in her belly. The unappeasable JJ was back, the one that knew what spots to hit inside of her. Even though he was close to cracking as evident by the way his pace lapsed, he still kept himself in check to drive her mad. And it worked. It sent her into a rant of incomprehensible pleas. (Y/N) was teary-eyed, turning into a puddle under his attack. JJ’s dirtiness had her leaking, mind fuzzy in an unexplainable way. She wanted nothing more than to please him again. (Y/N) doesn’t think she’s ever felt like this before. Like she would cry and beg and offer anything she could to get JJ’s cock inside of her.
“So fucking greedy for more even though I fucked you already. Guess I didn’t do a good enough job, huh? Should I just stop then?” JJ taunted her in a coo that made her shake her head frantically. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, the desperation in her eyes would’ve done the job in a matter of seconds. “Yes- wait… no- JJ,” (Y/N) whined unable to put the words together. She wanted to say he was crazy. That of course he’d done a fucking phenomenal job. That she feels floaty and would wail if he stopped right now. There was just no way she could use so many words at once. That stupid smirk on his face proved he was just trying to be a complete menace right now. “Just a dumb Princess for me now,” he sounded like he’d won a prize, like he was awarded some major accomplishment.
JJ laid his body over hers like a blanket, shielding every part of it and effortlessly snuffing out her panic. His composure was rapidly deteriorating, matching her need for their bodies to fuse together. His tip slipped between her puffy folds, hearing her stutter. “There?” JJ’s hot breath tingled her lips at the new proximity. (Y/N) nodded, hands suddenly coming to life from next to her to feel over his honey tinted pecks. “There,” that was definitely a word she could formulate as he paused to capture her eyes. The rest of the world stilled around them.
JJ buried himself past her resistance, stretching her open until the front of his thighs connected with the inside of hers and ripped a groan out of himself. He was convinced the ethereal feeling of her walls confining him was the same one people felt upon arriving to heaven. Before he could even move, her ankles met above his butt. She was a mess of pleas and whimpers, only trying to get JJ deeper into her as if his head wasn’t already pushing against her cervix and turning her into mush. He moaned against her lips, both touching but wide open against the other from the intensity. She was so wet and easy to slide slip into without prep. Still tight and constricting around him even after their encounter. No matter how hard it was to do, JJ’s blue swirls prompted her to keep her eyes open. He refused to look away as his hips pulled away gradually only to thrust forward again. And then again.
“Fuck,” JJ grunted, this time setting a slower yet unimaginably rough pace. He rocked into her with every ounce of strength he had left. Her fingernails found refuge in the indent between his collarbone and shoulder, digging in so harshly there’d be crescent moon impressions left over. While his found refuge in the roots of her hair, tangling into the long wavy strands. JJ used that grip to strengthen his thrusts. He could see it in her fragile features, the cloudiness in her eyes, and the airy moans that left her. She was almost gone and he’d barely even gotten started with her. “Guess what (Y/N)? You’re just taking it at this point, letting me do whatever the hell I want and fuck my cum back into your cunt like such a good little whore.”
(Y/N) keened at his vulgarity, soaking it in, the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder came to life. Roaming every inch of his body from the defined lines of his torso to the tensed muscles on his shoulders. She hadn’t gotten the chance to do that properly, to get drunk on the smooth skin that she’d been aching to wander for months. He was worth painting in this moment, sweat beading on his skin, building at the tip of his nose, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, perfectly shaped lips slightly parted, darkened blue eyes refusing to look anywhere but her. She could’ve came just from the sight.
He was becoming more and more vocal at her unabashed discovery of his body and the new emotion swirling in her eyes, moaning deeply against her lips. This wasn’t the same as their raunchy quickie in the Twinkie, here he could dig into her until his head was visible at her stomach and repeat the motion for hours. Pull out when they got close and then start right back up as soon as they came down if he pleased. It would be such a fat lie to say that he wasn’t getting off on her wandering touch and dreamy look, the way it seemed like she’d been longing to have him near. JJ adjusted the tiniest bit to increase the torturously deep thrusting while still maintaining a calculated speed that had her seeing stars. “Yes, yes,” (Y/N) whimpered out trembling as her fingers paused at his hips to squeeze. Her hypersensitive center was clamping down on his throbbing dick welcoming the new depth.
JJ was jabbing at her cervix ruthlessly, sliding against her velvet walls, reaching crevices she hadn’t known existed. Hitting the spot inside of her that sent her heels digging into the bed and toes curling. And like the criminal he was, JJ’s hand found the crook of her left knee forcing her leg up to reach even deeper. His balls constricted, all too close to finishing. “That’s it, yeah- yes- right there,” JJ was deaf to everything except the obscene sloshing sounds coming from between them and the impure filth intertwining with their muffled words. It was the only thing that could be heard from her room.
“JJ I-,” her high pitched whine fell off, not able to recall what she had intended to say. The heat in her core was seconds away from snapping like a rubber band. He was clouding every inch of her mind and every corner of her body. (Y/N)’s senses were experiencing a dramatic overload that left her repeating one single name in her mind. JJ. “I know- I know pretty girl,” he soothed patronizingly, walls tightening around him at the use of a pet name. He couldn’t help the grunt and snap of his hips upwards. “You’re so close (Y/N). Squeezing- fuck- my cock. Want me to fill your pretty little pussy again?”
Her hands shot out to grab at his muscular back, clawing lines down the smooth, fresh skin that had him hissing. JJ lost it, the sensually deep pace he had maintained turning into sloppier thrusts as she marked him this time. His shark necklace knocked into her chin with every upwards slam into her. The sight of it dangling down his neck was a turn on by itself. “Answer me,” JJ’s tone was dominant, the hand in her hair yanked at it as he made her glazed over eyes focus on him and not the necklace. His face was almost red, eyes dark and demanding as his hair tickled her forehead. “You need my cock and cum Princess, but do you want it?” JJ slammed into her, emphasizing every choice word, “You want me? I’ll make you cum right now, if you tell me who you want (Y/N).” JJ didn’t have (or want) to say his name since they both knew who he was referring to. Who the two choices were. His entire mind, body, and soul ached to know the answer and the devil on his shoulder used this moment to get it.
(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. The endorphins washing over her through his cruelly delicious attack made it hard to string a sentence. But the response was all too easy. He owned her. Even if karma was righteous and she never got the chance to give her whole self to him sexually and emotionally, JJ still held claim to her heart and pleasure no matter how much he doubted it. “Yo-,” she didn’t have to finish it. JJ’s arms wrapped under her shoulders, holding his body against hers until they could feel their hearts pounding inside. He jerked his hips into her, surpassing the rhythm he had set for himself. He was barely pulling out at this point, only an inch or two escaping before he was plunging back into her. That was all it took for both of them to fall apart.
His pelvic bone pressured her clit in just the right way for her eyes to roll to the back of her head. (Y/N)’s jaw went limp, hands finding JJ’s blonde locks and clinging for dear life as every single muscle in her body clenched. Her fifth orgasm of the night hit her like a car crashing into a brick wall at two hundred miles per hour, lifting her into a blissed out state with the wracking waves of pleasure. She shook in his grasp, reaching a high like no other as everything went silent around her. A broken high pitched noise and his loud moan vibrating against her is the last thing she heard.
JJ felt his cock squeezed by her spasming pussy, sending him over his own edge a second later. His mind fully warped around the sensation, eyes squeezing shut. “Holy.. fuck,” he exclaimed in a raspy voice while bulldozing into her in sync with his knee moving upwards and holding her lifted leg against the bed harshly. Their peaks magnified by the rawness of their feelings that had boiled over. Thick spurts of JJ’s cum coating her insides as he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. Bright dots littered his vision from the vigorous orgasm that claimed every part of him from the bottoms of his feet to the vein protruding in his neck.
Neither one of them even realized when JJ’s thrusts became lazier, losing energy as he came down. His pants coming out short and heavy onto her skin. The arms that had wrapped around her weakened their hold from the exhaustion setting in. He stilled at some point, breathing in the sweat of their sins and the scent of her floral perfume that lingered on the sheets around them consuming JJ’s senses. Laying with her in his arms still felt like a fever dream. If not for the mess they had made, JJ would’ve let them fall asleep right there. Kept himself snug and warm with her cunt. But he sluggishly lifted himself up instead having a promise to keep, his eyes finding their way to her face.
She was looking straight through everything in her line of sight like she was in a dreamlike state. That’s when he noticed how relaxed her body was beneath him, the shallow breathing. She’d been too quiet and hadn’t even lifted a finger to touch him. “Hey (Y/N)?” JJ murmured bringing his hand up to cup her cheek gently, caressing it with his thumb. He scanned over her face in confusion. It took a moment to realize it only because he couldn’t really believe it. More so doubting his capabilities. But seeing how far away she looked, JJ had to know he had fucked her into subspace. “(Y/N)?” JJ repeated a little louder realizing if he had, he certainly didn’t know how to pull her out of it. Panic began to settle in as his other hand went to her hair again, stroking through it with care and tenderness. “Hey Princess come back for me? It’s JJ,” the thought of having to call the one person who might know made him want to bury his fist in the closest wall.
She blinked once.
The hands offering solace and comfort were the first things she felt.
Then she blinked twice.
His honey-like voice urging her to return to him right before the glowing stars stuck to her ceiling began to look brighter.
Then finally her unfocused eyes were looking back at him. The fingers tangling through strands of her hair with a sense of uneasiness and his gentle voice asking for her was the only thing that managed to reach her. (Y/N) had never felt like that before, like she was transcending elsewhere. An out of body experience that she’d be unable to describe if asked. “JJ?” she mumbled, breathing a little heavier now. “What happened?” she questioned as he looked at her with sudden bewilderment which made her a little nervous. “You don’t know what happened? You’ve never reached subspace before?” She could hear it in his voice. The surprise that she’d done it with him and the boost of ego that came with not having done it with John B. The blush on her cheeks spread quickly, eyes closing as she buckled under his intense stare. (Y/N) was still basking in the glow from their shared orgasm which made it harder to think but she knew the answer.
She truthfully never had. There was times with John B she thought she might, but she’d been laced with uncertainty. (Y/N) would slow them down before her mind could wander off. It was always what she considered to be an irrational fear since John B would realistically never let something happen to her, but with JJ she had willingly let it happen. No, subconsciously, let it happen. Her body hadn’t fought it at all. “I’ve- no. I’ve never done that,” she admitted in a whisper looking anywhere but him. But his fingers found her chin, tilting her head back to him so their eyes could meet. The lust was replaced with something that (Y/N) had never seen in them before. Something she would call love if it didn’t sound absolutely insane. JJ Maybank in love with her. “S’not a big deal,” she tried to act like it wasn’t but it certainly felt like it.
JJ nodded carefully, acting with caution as she retreated back into her thoughts. He knew her too well by now. When things scared (Y/N), she’d pull away from them. She’d let her overthinking do the work before risking herself getting hurt. He didn’t want to push her back into her shell now. Not now that he had gotten a taste of her. That he had managed to open her up more than. Usually it was him running from any form of commitment, yet here he was practically salivating for it. “Yeah,” he sounded unconvinced but (Y/N) was glad he didn’t dwell on it. He winced as she shifted, his softening member grazing against her walls making her eyes flutter and plump lips part. “Tired?” JJ’s softness wasn’t easy to ignore considering she was used to his hard exterior hiding his emotions. They hadn’t actually gotten to this part earlier. JJ had to rush back before John B suspected anything while she had given herself the mercy of a couple of minutes to gather herself.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed out letting her eyes close softly, still feeling the aftershocks of her intense orgasm and hopelessly attempting to run away from the thoughts in her mind. JJ did know her too well. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she felt JJ pull out, another round of their juices sneaking down between her crack and onto the bed. She might have to change the whole mattress honestly. JJ had to bite back an audible noise that wanted to spill out from the sight of it. His shiny, slick dick twitched below him. After cumming twice, he doesn’t understand how she holds enough power over him to illicit a response like this. JJ was capable of fucking her again if given the opportunity. But her sleepy eyes gave her away. They were both exhausted.
He moved farther away, only to pick her up bridal style from where she lay earning a low gasp. “What’re you doing?” (Y/N) mumbled, lacking the strength to fight him off at this present time. Her arms wound around his neck quickly in fear of diving headfirst into her oak wood floor but she had a feeling he wouldn’t let that happen. The muscles in his arms flexed as he walked her into the bathroom, only confusing her more. “I owe you a bath,” JJ stated like it was obvious when he saw her bewildered expression, leaning down to sit her onto the bathtub gently. Her heart felt tight in her chest having completely forgotten about her bath. All in all, it would’ve been pointless had she taken it earlier with JJ always getting his way.
She watched as he leaned down to switch the warm water on, closing the drain when it was at a nice temperature. The water crept through her toes first before touching the underside of her thigh. (Y/N) sighed at the way it soothed her aching skin and throbbing mound. He went to push the lid down on the toilet, eyeing it and lifting an eyebrow when it lowered gently. Kooks, he thought instantly. JJ turned to face her and take a seat. “You’re not getting in?” The question startled him, like that’s not what he’d been planning on doing whatsoever. “Uhm- I can… Figured I’d just give you one so you could get to bed and I’ll go after,” there he went again, tugging on emotions that she’d spent months hiding under a rug. She couldn’t get it through her head, why JJ was evoking a reaction from her that she didn’t know existed, one that didn’t compare to John B. If she thought she had loved JB then what was this? Fooling herself into believing that words during sex were simply just that was becoming impossible.
“I mean- s’a bit silly? I’m already in here.. You need sleep too. Might as well get in,” she tilted her head slightly, glancing at him with such fondness that could take his breath away. JJ swallowed as he stood up and slid inside behind her, finding the same relief in his joints that she had. She scooted backwards until their bodies were touching, laying back onto his solid chest with closed eyes. His body relaxed as she decided what boundaries they could cross outside of sex. They let the running water fill the comfortable silence as they nestled into each other. A conversation about where this was leading was probably in order, but it was easier to remain ignorant. To stay quiet in hopes of stretching out the moment in case it didn’t last.
JJ’s fingers danced on the edge of her thigh until they gradually spread for him. He traced around the bruise he’d left her close to apologizing for the purple emerging but also finding pride in being the one that left it on her. It dawned on him that John B could’ve seen it earlier if he had found out the way JJ had intended him to. His eyes peered over her features curiously, wondering if she had actually listened to his sex induced demand. He felt guilty now that it was John B’s girlfriend he had done that to. (Y/N) who wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it had messed with her own. His long-time best friend who he had betrayed in a way he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. But his feelings for her made him act out in the moment instead of apologize. Made him want to rub it in JB’s face that her pleasure belonged to him. He let out a soft sigh, wanting to ask but lacking the courage. Her body was rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing, being covered by the water as it continued to rise. The bathroom fell quiet again as she peeked her eyes open to extend her foot and turn the handle off.
Once she did, her eyes fell on the place JJ’s fingers were making her skin shiver. With his other hand, he reached for her expensive looking body wash on the edge of the tub and the washcloth dangling close to their heads. She watched inquisitively as he dipped the rag in water squeezing the excess away and poured an ungracious amount of soap which made her giggle. He finally cracked a smile at that, leaving the bottle open as he set it back down. If JJ could get her to make that noise every day, it might just all be worth it in the end.
He began to lather her upper body first, feeling her jump slightly against him when his fingers grazed over her abused nipples. It felt nice though, domestic even. Him washing off the remnants of their day from her body. If only it was as easy to erase the memories. “I have to talk to him tomorrow,” she was the first to interrupt the silence making his smile falter and disappear like it’d never been there in the first place. He didn’t respond for a minute, just continuing to glide the washcloth over her thigh then down. He wiped meticulously between her legs knowing she was overly sensitive there now which was confirmed by the way her thighs went to shut but he stopped them.
“‘Bout what?” he didn’t mean it to be such a broad question but the snort she responded with made him aware of it. JJ knew what she wanted to discuss, he just didn’t know how to ask whether it’ll end with them breaking up officially or attempting to reconcile. (Y/N) wanted to pretend like he was being oblivious on purpose and not like she was reading into what was really going on. (Y/N)’s mind was muddled by the delicate way he was cleaning her off and the zero control she showed around him. Truthfully, she’d been inwardly swaying between the two boys for too long now.
(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly, watching his hand move down her tilted leg. The air felt heavy with the words spoken during intimacy. After being so forthcoming about who she’d choose, JJ still had an unwarranted fear that she would retract. Blame everything on the fact that she was lost chasing her high. He’d obviously excelled in that department, granting her with several orgasms but who she needed emotionally was still poking at him. It was an unintentionally loaded question that left her feeling anxious inside. “Don’t know yet.”
JJ didn’t speak again after that, he simply kept up his goal of bathing her. The washcloth smoothed over the bite on her shoulder making her whimper and throb at the same time. JJ was astonished with himself, finding it hard to believe he’d been capable of doing actual damage. But (Y/N)’s breathing was a tiny bit heavier, eyes opened halfway as she attempted to conceal how she felt about it. He had picked up on enough of her cues to know she had thrived off of it, during sex and now. JJ inhaled through his nose, free hand moving to tug at his cock slightly that had twitched. He wanted to do more, bite her thighs until his teeth tore through the flesh and tinted her tan with crimson red. Then soothe the skin with his tongue before repeating the act on her other thigh. Now that he had her, his possessiveness had gone into hyperdrive. Satiated only by the idea of his bite mark on her delicate skin.
Once she was covered in suds and the passion fruit smell filled his senses, he used the same washcloth on himself trying to distract and recollect himself before his animalistic kink was mentioned. (Y/N) had lifted up slightly allowing him to clean his front section too lost in her own mind to notice his revelation. She wanted to be the one to wash him, travel his body in the same way but by the time she got done overthinking, he seemed about done. She tugged on her bottom lip softly, opening the drain again to let out the dirty water. JJ sat up behind her and poured shampoo onto his hand before slipping his fingers through her wet hair unexpectedly. His fingers scratched softly at the scalp hearing a content hum from the girl in front of him. This was out of the norm for him, putting so much effort into aftercare. Girls would leave his room before he put any thought into them needing even a shower or rest. He was a dick and a player. He was well aware of that. JJ was also well aware that he wasn’t a dick and a player when it came to her.
He repeated the steps with the conditioner after washing her hair out with the clean water she was filling the bathtub up with. Before JJ could do it for himself, (Y/N) was turning around in between his legs and taking the shampoo from his grasp. She wouldn’t let the chance slip through her fingers. “You’ll smell like me,” she warned with a teasing smile softening the worry etched in their faces. JJ just stared at her. The lines on her forehead, the curve of her button nose, the undeserving kindness she showed him. Then he shrugged in the same manner she had. “Good,” he replied without a second thought to it making her blush reappear on her cheeks and down her neck.
(Y/N)’s soft hands ran shampoo through the blonde forcing his eyes to shut and an embarrassing moan to escape. But she giggled again. An onslaught of butterflies in his abdomen making him feel queasy. How could he really feel bad for his actions when everything inside of him turned into mush around her. “Never had someone wash your hair before?” It was supposed to be a joke but JJ gave her a small nod as he let his body relax from her touch. “Guess it’s a night of firsts,” he murmured reminding her that he’d been the first to drop her. She let out a shaky breath as he sunk into the water to wash off the shampoo.
He lifted out from the water, barely having a chance to rub the water out of his eyes before soft lips were finding his. There was no delay as he kissed her back, arms wrapping around her loosely to pull her closer. He straightened out his legs so that she could slide onto his lap with ease. Her fingers tangled in his hair that now looked a little darker from the water. They tugged tentatively, willing him to open his mouth for her. Her chest pressed against his just a little tighter as they deepened the kiss. He relinquished control under her, letting her continue to guide the pace they were moving at. Her tongue slid against his, tasting him.
The kiss grew lazy, mouths moving against one another for the sole purpose of being able to in the private confines of her bathroom. His hands found the curves of her waist, sliding over them to her back and then down to grab handfuls of her ass. He lifted her closer to him centers aligning as she gasped into the kiss. She moved slightly but one of JJ’s hands found sanctuary wound around her throat. He pulled (Y/N) back to him, lips melting into a more meticulous kiss. He licked between her lips once, then twice with a particularly jarring squeeze to her ass cheek. She complied more willing than she gave away. JJ’s tongue circled hers, groaning as she began to pull away. (Y/N) kept their forehead and noses connected. “J?” she mumbled resting her palms on his torso and digging her fingers in softly.
“Yeah?” he breathed out reaching forward slightly in attempt to catch her lips again but she didn’t let him. “Conditioner?” she asked which made him chuckle and shake his head slightly without pulling away. JJ kept his hands in place and used them to stand up with her, water pouring down from both their bodies while she scrambled to find a grip on his shoulders. “You think my dad buys shampoo and conditioner? Think I’m good with shampoo,” he didn’t mean it like that, but the pang of guilt and sadness hit her nonetheless. JJ didn’t even bother to empty out the bath water just to check that no more was falling in, ignoring her chirps of protest once he led them out of the bathroom.
“JJ- my bed. I swear-.”
“Swear what?”
He hovered her above the clean side of the mattress, a mischievous smirk finding its way. “I-I..,” she couldn’t come up with a rebuttal fast enough before he was dropping onto the bed with her and laying them down. (Y/N) wanted to be mad but a laugh is what came out instead as he tugged her close against him, facing one another. “Too slow,” he deemed letting the pillows pave a way to the drowsiness kicking in. He didn’t expect it to happen so quickly but he really was worn out. JJ’s blue eyes began to flutter in front of her and she laid her hand on his cheek gently. All it took was that for them to close completely.
(Y/N) took in this freshly washed version of JJ getting comfy in her bed. She’d be in so much trouble if her dad caught them. He was used to John B. Accepting of his daughter dating a Pogue because they’d become well aquatinted together while working on The Druthers. But JJ Maybank? Son of the town drunk who was notorious for stealing and picking fights with anyone in his life including JJ? He’d have a heart attack from his hatred toward Luke and JJ, who he had already had a couple of run ins with at the Island Club. Although, no matter how much trouble she could get into, he still looked unbearably cute releasing soft puffs of air her way.
“Look whose tired now,” she teased as he fought to keep himself awake through the rubbing of her thumb and the welcoming satin feel of the pillowcase. JJ mumbled incoherently switching between the comfort her hand offered and the darkness looming. He slipped further into the vulnerable limbo of sleep when he spoke next. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).”
The words hung in the air as he finally drifted off, snores interrupting the thudding off her heart in her throat. It was bittersweet to hear him utter the words her body craved from him. What she felt for John B didn’t come close to this. She would be in denial if she didn’t face it. (Y/N) didn’t see any plausible way to make this work though, even if she wanted it to. John B and JJ were as thick as thieves. Best friends for life. She had already come between that and caused enough damage. If she chose one of them now, their friendships would never be the same. Between any of them, not just the three that were now stuck in a love triangle.
With the weight of the world on her shoulders and the peace offered by the warmth he radiated, she let herself be taken over by the same darkness. After a long, perplexing day, both of them were drained mentally and physically. Any apprehension she felt could wait till tomorrow. Not even her overthinking could keep her up tonight. And if JJ fell asleep remembering that he hadn’t mentioned John B’s name again the whole night, well. He kept it to himself.
*****
“(Y/N)?” she heard faintly making her snuggle further into the damp sheets and comforters that were colder now without the presence of body heat at her side.
“Five more minutes,” she urged in the haze not wanting to awaken just yet but the voice was persistent and annoying on the other side of her door. Her doorknob rattled as the intruder attempted to open it which is what made her stir finally. “Five more- (Y/N) get up,” Rafe’s frustrated voice rang from the outside of her bedroom which made her eyes peek at last. Instead of being met with an empty room though, JJ was standing in front of her bathroom with wide eyes, her toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and low-hanging boxers. “Dad said you were supposed to come to the country club with us. Hurry up,” Rafe rushed her assuming she’d been in the process of getting ready when she had completely forgotten.
(Y/N) had promised she’d go to dinner with them Saturday afternoon since she’d been spending so much time with John B and her friends on The Cut. She had never slept into the afternoon though. With a quick flicker of her eyes to the clock that read 4:56 P.M. and back to a half naked JJ, memories of yesterday flooded her. Any tiredness that remained was long gone now as she shot up from the bed, holding the comforter to her naked chest. “Uhm- yeah,” (Y/N)’s called out more firmly now that she was fully awake. “Tell dad I’m not feeling well- I’ll go to dinner tomorrow.” There was a pause on the other side of the door as JJ took the toothbrush out of his mouth.
“Is John B in there with you?” Rafe accused which made JJ’s fingers twitch with jealousy. He had to refrain himself from calling out to him and making it clear that it was him and not John B who had the privilege of waking up at her side this morning. “God Rafe no,” (Y/N) claimed in exasperation, irritated with the way this conversation with going. She shouldn’t feel guilty about the flash of anger in JJ’s blue eyes but she did. “I was just out late at The Boneyard. Got a massive hangover. Tell him I’m sick,” (Y/N) lied but it was the only thing that she knew would convince him. They had seen each other in passing last night so there was no reason Rafe wouldn’t believe her. It seemed to work though as he huffed from the other side.
“And you’re still the favorite?” He asked rhetorically and bitterly as heavy footsteps began making their way away from her door hinting at his departure. They both waited another minute before visibly relaxing now that they weren’t caught. She moved her attention back to JJ who made his way into the restroom to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth out. There were bright, red gashes down his back making her breath hitch as she realized she was the blame. She tried to shake the thought away, ignoring the stirring in her pit. Like she had enjoyed staking her own claim. (Y/N) paid attention to what she should be disgusted in instead. JJ was using her toothbrush, the one she’d been using daily for the last month. But it warmed her heart a little that JJ hadn’t minded using it. He was so calm, walking around her room and using her things like he belonged there. Yesterday she had woken beside John B in the Chateau and today she had JJ in her bedroom on Figure Eight. Oh how the tables had turned.
It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).
The words made their way to the forefront of her mind as she chewed on her bottom lip watching him. He turned to her with a nonchalant, unreadable expression on his face. “So round 3?” He joked as he threw the hand towel he used to dry his face across his shoulder and crossed his arms in front of her. The way his eyes scanned her body hidden by the covers made her question whether it was indeed a joke or not though. The area between her legs reawakened from the way he hungrily looked her over like she’d been served to him on a silver platter. It became obvious rather quickly that they couldn’t be alone anymore without succumbing to the temptation.
“No,” (Y/N) said adamantly as she stood up dragging the covers behind her and retrieving a matching lavender lace bra and panty set to wear. She moved to the closet after a quick slam of the drawer and found jean shorts with a simple white t-shirt to wear. “You’d look better in mine,” JJ hummed from where he stood checking her out as she bit back a snarky remark and evaded the idea of herself in his clothing. It seemed as though they were back to normal, pushing until the other broke. Clearly last nights words were lost to the night. (Y/N) turned to make her way towards the bathroom acting unbothered with the tips of ear feeling a little hot and heart skipping a beat in her chest. He made no effort to move out of her way, just grinned with entertainment. His favorite past time was pushing her buttons until she snapped. This time pushing her buttons held a new type of reward that he wanted to relive a dozen times over.
(Y/N) scoffed at him though, squinting her eyes in mock anger to see if he would budge. But he simply peered down towards the sheet covering her chest and leaned closer to her. “I said-,” his thumb running across her bottom lip made her falter. The want in his eyes was pouring into her all too quickly. She was trying to make sense of this situation she had landed herself into but JJ made it easy to lose track of everything. Her heart and body yearned for things that she wasn’t allowed to have. She couldn’t explain how she had let herself be roped into the mess that is JJ. He was too good at reminding her though, lowering his hand down her jaw to her throat. He closed the space, tightening his fingers and feeling the jump in her pulse.
It was that small detail that made him act. “I know what you said,” he murmured before whirling them around so that her back hit the wall next to the door. His hand rested above her head, effectively trapping her against his body. “You said no… But you’re just so reactive,” he claimed as his leg slid between hers. The position mirrored the one from last night lighting the flame of arousal with memories and nothing but the thin sheet covering her as his bare thigh rubbed against her core. JJ felt it immediately, the wetness seeping through and making him groan quietly. Her breathing was already picking up, cheeks becoming flushed in a matter of seconds. “See Princess? I know what you like,” he did. In a matter of twenty four hours he had picked up on every cue that gave away what made her tick. “Like when your dad woke me up knocking on the door. I was so hard,” he pressed against her harder, “I know you would’ve liked me waking you up by stuffing you full of my cock.”
“JJ..,” she moaned his name without thinking moving her hand to grip at his wrist in a warning. Her knees wanted to give out under her from the indecency he was spewing. He leaned down to feather his lips across her ear feeling her tremble against his body. “Should’ve made you scream daddy so he knew who owned his daughter now,” JJ whispered with a menacing squeeze that made her whimper, breaths coming out short. She would’ve been on the floor now had it not been for his grip on her neck. He almost devoured her the second he felt the damp spot on the sheet grow at his words. His boxers were constricting at a rapid pace now that he discovered a new kink as his lips latched onto her shoulder close to where his bite mark was. “You like that? Like imagining daddy shoving his cock into his sleeping girl?” JJ groaned sending vibrations through her skin that made her body arch into him.
“Fuck- J,” (Y/N) gasped out catching him off guard and shoving him abruptly from where he stood. JJ’s eyes were darker now, taking one step forward ready to pounce before he noticed the fiery look she held. His chest was rising and falling now fighting himself from reaching out and taking her again. “I’m serious. Last night was sex. That’s all it was, okay? We spent months playing this little game and it was bound to happen. Now it’s out of our system,” it was a lie when she said it, they both knew it, “and it doesn’t have to happen again. I have to go apologize to John B.” She moved to the bathroom and closed the door behind herself with a loud thud before he had the chance to rebuttal. She leaned back into it closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.
(Y/N) hadn’t intended to be so mean with her words but he wasn’t listening to her and she needed him to remember why he hated her before they met. It was easier to have JJ hate her. If he did, she wouldn’t be going through all these conflicting thoughts in her head. She suddenly wished her mom was still here. She would have had the best advice for her. It probably would’ve gone something along the lines of follow your heart but her mom hadn’t met JJ yet, the culprit of her swaying heart. (Y/N) sighed rubbing her entire face as if that would somehow wake her up from her nightmare.
After a moment of alone time to calm her unfurling heat, she got dressed with the clothes she had brought into the bathroom. Her hair was a mess from where she had fallen asleep with it wet so she most definitely had to brush it. The memory of them in the bathtub made her pause in the mirror. She could still feel his fingers tracing the bruise he had left and the adoring way he had cleaned every corner of her body. He didn’t deserve her attitude yet she had given it to him anyways. No matter how much John B was probably blaming JJ, it was ultimately her fault for giving into the desire. It was such a frustrating notion to her that she wanted to punch the mirror in front of her but she’d end up hurting herself more than accomplishing anything.
Her moment of alone time turned into twenty minutes of stress-filled pacing. JJ’s wary knock at the door is what snapped her out of it. She ran a hand through her wavy hair before opening it and finding JJ wearing his outfit from the night before with concern written all over his face. JJ knew he had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment when she strutted around with nothing but a sheet on. She had that power over him, to rile him up without actively doing anything. JJ still wanted to give her any necessary space before trying to speak to her but she was taking too long and he was frightened by how often she fell victim to her doubts. “You okay?” he checked in with her, scanning her face which was devoid of any clues as to how she was feeling. His hand tentatively reached up to brush some hair behind her ear gently making her heart do somersaults. “Yeah,” she mumbled unable to resist nudging against his hand to melt into it as a small peace offering, bathing in the warmth his body offered her.
She was supposed to be angry, shoving him away. But the whirlwind going on inside of her tugged her from one side to the other. JJ kept his hand there, soothingly rubbing circles into her cheek. He was still cautious as he stepped closer to her, to wrap an arm around her delicate waist and better angle his hand. Her eyes never left his as she allowed him to bring her into his embrace. (Y/N) wanted to fight against it inside but her body melted into his without letting her second guess it. “I’ll go talk to JB with you,” he finally told her after a minute or two of calming her down. He already behaved like a coward leaving the Chateau before things got out of hand. Which meant JJ had to go and at least try to apologize and own up to the fact that he just should’ve gone about things a different way. He didn’t know how well that’d fare over or how he’d handle John B’s valid attitude towards them, especially her, but he would try nonetheless. At least that’s what he also told Kie last night. But he kept that conversation to himself for now.
Him joining her was shocking, enough for her eyes to swirl with uncertainty. “JJ- I don’t know. What if it’s not a good idea?” she mumbled then, her hand fisting his shirt as the anxiety of what was about to occur began to eat her up. If there was something she struggled to keep within, it would be the tell-tale sign of her nerves. Her heartbeat would run amuck and the nausea would hit her in a way she could barely keep her balance. This time instead of needing a Zofran it was JJ who helped keep her breathing steady and panic attack at bay. His fingers slipped under her shirt in the back, tracing his hand to her hip and offering her a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t care honestly. I’ve got some things I have to apologize for too,” he sighed hoping this could’ve been pushed back maybe just a week. That would give him enough time to settle into whatever this was and break her cement walls down. But she couldn’t live another day knowing how mad John B had been yesterday. It hurt her because she’d been the one to cause so much agony. And no matter what happened, John B still held a place in her heart which complicated things further in her mind. There was a war between her heart and brain that she just wanted to end one way or another. “And I messed up last night. Not with John B but with you. Takes two to tango and I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he added then assuaging her guilt. His fingers ran over her hip bone, circling there for a minute before pressing in slightly.
The look on her face when she walked into her room last night would be engrained into his hippocampus forever. The wet puffy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, broken exterior. He blamed himself for that. For causing her so much turmoil. But he was selfish at the same time, glad that he’d been the one to find her. The back of her mind made it a point to notice that he regretted not being there for her, not the actual sin they committed. This new side of him was frightening yet everything she wanted at the same time. (Y/N) nodded wordlessly as her hip nudged out slightly into his palm, comforted by the soft caressing while also conflicted. Not knowing how to respond to him when she couldn’t process the change in their dynamic. She also knew there’d be no stopping him even if she wanted to.
“We can take my bike, stashed it in some bushes,” the casual words summoned an unexpected laugh from her. She hadn’t thought about how he had gotten to her house last night, too distracted by his unholy mouth and skilled hands. It made sense that he would’ve had to hide the green worn down bike so that nobody called the cops with stupid accusations. A small smile danced on her lips as she pulled away to lead them out of her bedroom. “I’ve never ridden on your bike,” the comment made him return the same mischievous grin while glancing at the hallway.
“Never had a girl besides Kie on my bike,” it shouldn’t have made her feel jealous but God, it was like an accidental flip of a switch, there were so many times she had thought they liked each other. Hearing that she was the only girl to ride with him made her miss a step on the way down the staircase to which JJ’s hand jumped out to grab her arm quickly. A small embarrassed smile shot his way before he let go with a small squeeze to her forearm and she continued down the steps hastily. He noticed it, noticed the unintended affect his words had. But before he could add something else in, a younger girl was walking out of a bedroom at the same time they were approaching the second floor.
Wheezie’s eyes bulged out of her head behind her glasses, looking from (Y/N)’s widened eyes to the frozen stranger behind her. “That’s not John B,” her sister stated the obvious lowering her phone with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She had also been informed by Rafe that their sister was supposedly bed-ridden with a gnarly hangover which didn’t seem to be the case at all. “Nope, JJ,” he introduced himself with a half-assed smile not intending to come across as rude but seriously. Did people have to keep mentioning him? She crossed her arms over her chest with such a wicked smile.
“Okay Wheezie. John B knows so you can’t use that against me,” (Y/N) blurted out immediately recognizing the intentions behind her sisters stance. But the younger girl just smiled wider, taking a pause to come up with something else. “Well dad doesn’t know. He doesn’t let guys spend the night remember?” she reminded her of Ward’s rules to let her know she had them by the balls. (Y/N) cursed under her breath looking down the steps to the first floor before meeting Wheezie’s eyes and running her fingers through her hair. Normally they always got along with minimal issues. But if Wheezie caught a scent of wrongdoing, she was like a dog with a bone.
“Fine. I’ll do whatever you want. Just tell me later because we’ve really got to go,” (Y/N) gave in as she stepped down the last step with JJ following suit now that the situation was handled. Wheezie let out an excited squeal running back into her room to surely make a whole list of things that she would make (Y/N) do. The girl couldn’t even help the chuckle that escaped her lips as they walked the rest of the way to the main floor. She had to give it to her sister. Wheezie was indeed too smart for her own good. “I like her. She’s a hustler,” JJ nodded with a serious tone that made (Y/N) laugh a bit too loudly and shake her head. He cracked a big grin, teeth showing and eyes crinkling at the sound that had his heart swelling.
With one last glance up the stairs where her sister resided, (Y/N) headed out the door with a happy smile feeling a little more airy than before. It felt odd to have JJ walking through her house, meeting one of her family members. Her life with the Pogues this summer had been an adventure of a lifetime and she didn’t tend to mix it too much with her home life. Even John B had only come over a handful of times for dinner in the short couple months of them dating. And he really only slept over once or twice. Kie was the exception. They had plenty of sleepovers at both houses. It’s not that she was ashamed of the guys, it was more like she was ashamed of her life. The pointless knick knacks that rich people bought, the amount of empty bedrooms, the sense of entitlement that the people in her life had. Money would always come and go, as long as she had her real family, the Pogues, with her then everything would be alright.
“She’s like my sister though so it doesn’t count,” JJ spoke, bringing her out of her thoughts as they walked down the lawn. (Y/N) glanced over at him with a puzzled look on her face which made him pause at the side gate they were coming up to. She pulled the gate door open until she realized he wasn’t walking through. “Kie?.. She’s like my sister so it doesn’t count… You’re the first girl to ride my bike,” he put emphasis on the word by stepping closer to her, using his knuckle to brush against the back of hers before feathering his fingertips up her arm and shoulder. (Y/N)’s heart began to pound in her chest when she picked up on what he was saying. His fingers continued until he cupped her chin, thumb pulling her bottom lip softly before releasing it and watching it bounce back. JJ was enthralled by the sight and she him.
No matter how much she wanted to release herself from the guilt and kiss him until their lips were sore and raw, (Y/N) also wanted to tell him to quit it. To stop making this more difficult than needed but somehow the world slips away when he’s near. Her bottom lip was lit on fire where the pad of his thumb touched, she was drawn to him like a magnet. His head inched forward almost as if waiting for her to push him away. “J..,” she mumbled reaching her hand up onto his chest, running her palm across it until she arrived at his shark tooth necklace and tugged slightly. She did nothing to pull away from him as the memory of it hitting her chin surfaced and weakened her with the tingles it provoked. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers. His tongue slipped out to lick his bottom lip, purposefully smoothing over hers. (Y/N) tugged hard on the necklace not even a second later unable to refrain herself. Their lips connected, JJ’s hand molding into the curve of her neck while the other got lost in her hair. Kissing JJ felt like the first time every time. It was passionate, breath-taking.
Her knees wanted to buckle in his hold, sensing the adoration mixed in. It was like JJ read her mind, the way he walked her back into the gate. (Y/N)’s back met the searing metal that only added to the heat escalating the temperature of her body. But he didn’t let his hand roam. Instead he deepened the kiss, putting spotlight attention on taking the breath out of her lungs. He explored every corner, tasted the mint of her toothpaste, memorized the way her tongue slid against his. JJ could only focus on the moment, shoving every worry aside with ease. It was the way her fingers brushed the bare skin under his shirt that had him pressing her body into the fence.
(Y/N) gasped, tilting her head to the side away from him slightly to pant for air. JJ just saw the opportunity to kiss up the curve of her jaw, causing her eyes to flutter. Her nails dug into the crook of his v-line just as he reached the spot on her neck that twisted knots in her belly. JJ had to stifle a groan, sucking on the sensitive skin possessively and with fervor as his hand gripped her hair straining her neck as forced it up. He moved with gentle yet frantic urgency, swiping his tongue every so often to hear the mewl that escaped her lips. The pleasure and stinging sensation blinding her from how careless leaving yet another mark on her was. It wasn’t until he was satisfied and she was whining from the discomfort evolving that he pulled back to admire his work ignoring the temptation to see red. His lips parted, short harsh breaths washing over the darkened spot on her neck. (Y/N) let out an involuntary whimper at the feeling, meeting his forehead with hers to sway his attention.
JJ’s hold loosened at the same time a car engine roared through the street. Had cars been passing by the whole time? Neither one had been able to hear a thing besides the person in front of them. He still preferred to focus on the lines and dips of her face over the Kooks driving by. It felt like they were in their own bubble, rid of consequences. But some thought would always creep into the front of her mind as the oxygen seemed to reach her head again. It was only a name. But a name that held enough weight to get her to drop her hand from his shirt. JJ’s eyes flashed with something unreadable as he witnessed the moment she slipped away again.
“So I take it that means you only have one helmet?” It was meant to show indifference and lighten the magnitude of the moment but (Y/N)’s voice wobbled. She would’ve looked away the second she said it but the hand on her chin kept her where JJ wanted. The other one fell to his side aching in a similar way her body did. “It’s yours Princess,” JJ spoke with deeper meaning behind the hint of playfulness. The helmet wasn’t the only thing that was hers, his mouth was, his body, his thoughts, the stupid red baseball cap, especially his heart. Most definitely his heart. She could see it in blue of his irises. The intensity behind his words left her speechless once again. As much as she wanted to read between the lines, there were too many obstacles between them.
It was JJ who finally had to muster the strength to pull apart, his fingers tightening just briefly before letting go of her chin completely. He masked his own disappointment with the only way they knew how to communicate. A devious little smirk emerged at the prominent hickey forming on her neck and he rubbed at his jaw contemplating his work. “Damn, there’s no missin’ that,” JJ chuckled snapping her out of it as her hand flew up to her neck to touch the sore area. She cursed under breath, shoving at his arm slightly with her free hand as she lifted away from the fence.
“I think you’ve marked me enough,” (Y/N) huffed not even wanting to imagine what John B’s reaction would be. The bite on her shoulder and the other hickey was covered by the t-shirt, but this one would take more effort to hide. She flipped some of her hair forward which was temporarily successful. It irked JJ to see her covering up the evidence of his touch. He wanted to behave but his jealousy was ravenous. With a mind of it’s own that didn’t think about anybody else. “Don’t think it’s enough if you can still cover them,” he noted, the smirk disappearing into a thin line on his lips. She rolled her eyes at the comment biting back the urge to remind him she wasn’t his. As much as she wanted to wear it proudly, show all the girls on both sides of the island that JJ had been the one to do this, she couldn’t. (Y/N) simply had to ignore how hot his possessive tendencies were.
“Whatever,” she exclaimed, too flustered to find a witty response. She opened the gate again, not waiting for JJ this time around as she slipped through and began walking to the side of her house where JJ had presumably left the bike. He took just another second before following after her, taking the lead since he was the only one who knew where the bike was actually hidden. They glanced at each other for a meager second before (Y/N) was turning her attention to the oncoming car. JJ looked away, clicking his tongue against the rooftop of his mouth as they came up to one particularly big bush. He disappeared behind it before re-emerging pushing the handles out. (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat now that they were actually about to leave. She felt frozen as JJ casually hopped onto the bike and turned the key. The sound made her jump in JJ’s peripheral view. He turned his head towards her, reading the hesitance on her expression.
JJ reached his arm back to grab the helmet, nudging it into her stomach gently. “Hey it’ll be fine,” he meant both the bike ride and the conversation with John. But he couldn’t really know if it would be so the attempt at easing her was pointless.. She exhaled for a moment, taking in the tenderness that he spoke with and the affection swimming in the oceans of his eyes before nodding. She took the helmet from his grasp to put it on. Her nervous fingers fiddled with the clasp to close it once it was on. It’s not like she really knew how to do it anyways so the jitters kicking in didn’t help. Her inexperience was so obvious that it was embarrassing. But JJ’s rough fingers snuck past hers, pushing them out of the way to clasp it shut with one easy motion. “There,” his voice was kind, devoid of any judgement or ridicule. The stirring in his chest at the sight of her in his helmet further restricted his ability to breathe.
She slipped onto the bike with a shade of soft pink traveling up her neck. (Y/N) made sure to scoot closer, wrapping her arms around JJ’s torso and holding her hands there in preparation for her first ride. The heat of his body was soothing as the apphrension grew. JJ just always seemed to read her perfectly though, giving her hands a small squeeze before putting both of his on the handles and beginning to ride out onto the street. She let out a small gasp at the wind blowing past them when he really started down the road. It was more exhilarating than she could’ve imagined it being. Her senses were hyper alert, aware of every turn and increase of speed.
He was a pro at it though, weaving through cars and traffic with no issue. JJ could feel her tighten her grip every time they got close to another car. Normally he’d tease Kie, riding as close as he could to it just to hear her yell at him. But with her he sped farther away, not wanting to scare her during her right off the bat. This side of himself was just as surprising to him as it has been to her. The boys would prod and tease him until his grave if they found out. JJ had spent so long trying to convince himself that what he felt was just lust and taboo desire. But now these pent up emotions were finally loose and swirling inside of him he struggled to refrain from from acting normally.
(Y/N) did end up raising her head up very slowly at one point to take in the ocean view at their side. The sun was still out, shining down on the water below and giving it a yellow tint behind the clear blue. The rush she got from the wind hitting every part of her body only heightened the beauty of it. It was enough for her to forget the wave of nausea that had been hitting a few minutes ago and the fear that had kept her glued to his back. JJ had caught sight of her in his mirror, admiring the serenity in her features. (Y/N) looked breathtaking with her freshly washed hair flowing back, her eyes filled with peace. He thinks he understood in that moment that what he felt was called love. There was no other word for it but that. There was no tip-toeing around the way his heart felt like imploding in his chest and his lungs felt like evaporating into thin air when she was near.
Just as quick as it happened though, the semi speeding past them in the lane snapped her out of it. She was back into the curve of his back, helmet smushed into the space between his shoulder blades. Hands wound tightly around him.
They continued the rest of the way in silence. The further they got from Figure Eight, the more her body became rigid against his back. It hit her then that it was an extremely bad idea to show up with JJ but it was too late to turn around now. The familiar streets of the Cut came into view reinforcing her panic. Her grip had cemented so much JJ thought she would actually leave a few bruises or wounds behind. “Nothing’s gonna happen (Y/N),” he tried, lacing his fingers with hers for just a quick second and squeezing before having to grab the handle to turn into the Chateau.
The familiar sound of the dirt bike alerted everyone inside to their presence. John B was darting up from his spot on the couch faster than Kie and Pope could even process it. The front door was propelled open against the siding of the house, John B’s eyes narrowing on JJ who was helping his girlfriend off the dirt bike and then unclasping the helmet for her. “You’re fucking joking right now,” John B saw red, anger etched in his entire soul from head to toe. If looks could kill, they’d be dead and buried deep underground. (Y/N) had the thought to at least cover her neck with her hair and then turn away from JJ to confront the fiery brown eyes shooting daggers their way.
“Hey, it’s not what you think JB please. I just came to apologize. We both did,” (Y/N) spoke in a soft tone to relay just how much she meant it. She hadn’t intended for John B to end up as casualty in the process. She truly hadn’t thought at all in the moment. Kie and Pope came out through the front door to stand behind the fuming man next to them as she took a couple of uncertain steps forward. “Yesterday- that’s not what should’ve happened and I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) pleaded with him but the words couldn’t heal a wound of this nature. Especially not with his best friend standing behind her with crossed arms leaning his bum against the bike looking like a pompous asshole. Her words had stung JJ hard after the revelations they had whispered into the dead of the night. It wasn’t intended to come off as regretful but he couldn’t help but take it as that. Lashing out from the burn of her words, he smirked at John B to provoke him instead of keeping a level head.
“Not what I think? Seriously?” John B seethed not even wanting to voice his deplorable thoughts because they’d be too severe and permanent. He took steps forward to be face to face with (Y/N) but still keeping his distance. His blood was sizzling, eyes pitch-black and somehow losing light by the second. If (Y/N) had thought he was furious yesterday, it had nothing on the anger John B felt with the pair in his sight. “I think you’re just a spoiled Kook that came to experiment with us Pogues. Had fun yet? Whoring around?” John B spat as he kept his focus on her. If he dared to look JJ’s way again he might not be able to restrain himself.
(Y/N)’s eyes watered, taking a step back as Kie tried to rest her hand on the tense muscle of John B’s shoulder to diffuse the tension. Maybe in some way she had come to hear his demeaning words. She felt worthy of them. JJ, however, was the complete opposite. He had managed to keep quiet until know, acting on impulse as he sprung up to shield her from the livid man in front of her. He could accept that John B was more than just resentful, but throwing insults (Y/N)’s way was a line he wouldn’t let JB cross. “Watch your fucking mouth John B. You’re just mad that your little game didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to,” JJ bellowed at him matching his rage with an icy glare, knowing exactly what buttons to press before Kie could set out to cool him off.
JB’s arms ripped out of Kie’s grip in a split second decision, thrusting out to shove at his best friends hard chest with flat palms. It sent him falling back but only provoked him more. JJ looked like the devil. His lips curving into a wicked smile, hair tousled by the wind. Blue eyes were dripping with venom. Quicker than JJ could retaliate, (Y/N)’s small, gentle hands caught the back of his arms before he could stumble into her. “J Please,” (Y/N) begged under her breath into the privacy of his muscular back sounding distraught as she grounded him, “this isn’t why we came here.” He did his best to inhale deeply through a clenched jaw, visibly taking breaths from within to calm himself. It was rare to get him to pull away from the blinding fury once he was absorbed by it but he was helpless, in the mercy of her soft heart. Focusing on the delicate way she tried to soothe him by rubbing small circles into his side. It might’ve almost been enough to end the fight but it only set John B into a spiral witnessing the affectionate exchange. It was now the second time he was reminded of the fact that (Y/N) wasn’t the one winding him down.
“You’re worse than me JJ you know that? Luke Maybank’s kid,” John B landed a low blow that visibly made JJ falter, jaw flexing in rage, “Just another delinquent in the works... ,” he drawled out with a closed fist shove of JJ’s shoulder, the tension skyrocketing around them and pricking the hairs on everyone’s skin. “C’mon John B- this is pointless nothing is getting resolved- we can wait till everyone is ready,” Pope was practically begging as he attempted to tug at John B’s arm. But he was strong-willed and unflinching as he stepped forward to be almost chest to chest to JJ. Blue met brown as their eyes locked, everything eerily quiet. “You think she’s gonna want you?” The vindictive words crashed into him. JJ couldn’t stand being compared to Luke. His dad beat his mom and beat him too and JJ swore that would never be him. And knowing that he wasn’t worthy of (Y/N) was one thing, being reminded of it was another.
Except JJ knew exactly how to retaliate.
His muscles loosened as all the tension was released from his body. A lazy, horrific smile appeared on JJ’s face with cold eyes staring him down. It was a look unlike he’d ever given anyone. Kie was almost quivering just from witnessing it, much less did she want to be on the receiving end of it. He’d spent months pining after her, dealing with with his conflicting emotions, watching his best friend be happy and ignoring his own needs for John B’s sake. But JJ wasn’t going to do that anymore, not when it came to her.
So he knew exactly what to say.
And the color in (Y/N)’s face drained as JJ crept a couple of measured steps until he was standing beside her. She knew what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth.
JJ’s fingers trailed over to her hair, flicking it back as he bit his lip to contain the sinister smile. Everyone’s eyes falling on the darkening hickey as (Y/N) felt her cheeks hot, head spinning and eyes blurry with embarrassment and anger.
“Well JB that’s not what she was saying in her bedroom last night. She wanted me a lot..,” JJ chuckled criminally while maintaining a look of pure satisfaction. Making it clear that (Y/N) had not just wanted him, but begged for it. He practically ate up the shock piercing John B’s features. Just to make sure there was no miscommunication, JJ sunk the knife in further for good measure.
“You know.. her bedroom… with those cute glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling?”
It was Kie that gasped before John B reacted. She’d been in (Y/N)’s room plenty of times to know exactly what he was talking about.
Less than a second later, JJ’s jaw made a worrisome cracking noise as John B connected his balled up fist to it. Despite the metallic taste in his mouth, JJ didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and tackle John B to the ground. Both of them snapped, yelling profanities and taking their rage out on the other. He swung blindly, rings jabbing into John B’s abdomen. The taller man winced, before thrusting his knee upwards and digging it into JJ’s chest.
“JJ!”
“John B!”
Both girls kept yelling and risking a hit by trying to get in the middle of them. But it was next to impossible. Pope jumped up to try to intercept but they were both pushed over the edge now. He couldn’t get a single chance through the flying limbs. They had both been stewing in their rage for too long now. John B had been waiting to do this since last night and seeing as he hadn’t been able to because JJ was on Figure Eight, he was only further enraged. “You were my best fucking friend!” John B shouted as he managed to flip JJ onto his back, punching him coldly without measure. (Y/N) cried out and screamed at them, pleading as she watched JJ close his blue eyes. His body went limp, John B holding him up by the grip on his shirt. She recognized what he was doing because she had done the same thing by coming here. They were both looking to assuage their guilt by looking for punishment from the person they had betrayed.
“John B, he isn’t fighting back!” (Y/N) pleaded loudly with a tear-stricken face, catching his wrist before he could swing again. But he was stronger than her, especially fueled by the burning jealousy and wrath at their infidelity. She was no match for him as he landed another hard blow at JJ. “Fight back!” John B yelled into his face but JJ just gave him a lopsided grin, blood snaking it’s way down his chin to his throat and staining the hem of his colar line. He let out a heart-wrenching yell as his fist landed on the grass next to JJ’s head.
Everyone paused.
John B’s heavy breathing broke through the sounds of the crickets.
They just stared at each other while the other looked on. Almost as if they were communicating without saying a word.
Pope decided to use this momentary pause and separate them, latching on to John B’s shoulders to drag him away. It was relatively easy to do considering JB was no longer fighting back. His eyes were swelling with frustration and fury, tears that he was trying to keep in making their way out at an unstoppable pace. Beating JJ to a pulp would be too easy and he wasn’t even getting the satisfaction of the blonde haired guy pushing back. “You were my best friend and you fucked my girlfriend,” he spoke loudly, but more disheartened towards him watching as (Y/N) knelt at his side to check on the bruising eye.
“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) sobbed to both of them, feeling like this was all her fault. Her fingers swiped softly at the blood pooling under JJ’s busted lip making him wince and her heart tighten. “It’s fine Princess. Takes two to tango remember?” JJ’s voice came out raspy, strained by the pain creeping through his body. His eye squinted, groaning at the uncomfortable throbbing coming from his side. John B had managed to get him quite good but she was right, he wanted to get hit. He wanted to be numb, his guilt could subside knowing that his best friend was able to take out the heartbreak and anger he felt on him.
(Y/N) shook her head though, standing up with the weight of her actions crushing her shoulders. If there was any remedy to this situation, it was to cut herself out of the equation completely. How would they be able to fix anything when just her presence caused these emotions to rupture out of them? She would always be a lingering reminder of their infidelity. Her head tilted to the side, watching Pope and Kie attempt to calm John B. She hadn’t even noticed until now that Kie’s cheeks were as wet as hers. It was just as agonizing to her to see their unit be torn apart. Pope was rattled, feeling powerless to stop them. They had had arguments and fist fights before about nonsense, but nothing this serious. He hadn’t even been able to get in the middle without being injured himself. It was all too much to take in. They were all perfectly fine before she arrived, and now they were more shattered than ever.
JJ observed her features the whole time, was privy to the way she detached herself emotionally to save the rest of them. But he didn’t want her to. He was selfish and greedy, willing to beg John B for forgiveness the rest of his life if it meant that (Y/N) didn’t run away. “(Y/N), hey,” his voice was still rough, but there was an edge of distress. She couldn’t take sole blame for the eruption their behavior had caused. But nothing he could say would really change her mind. There was a distant look in her eye when she focused on him.
He couldn’t even get another word out before she was turning her back to him walking away from them, from her life. Her shoulders were shaking, the reality of her consequences settling in. Her hand moved to cover her silent choked sob, free arm wrapping around herself to grace herself with some comfort. JJ wouldn’t give up on her without putting forth effort though. A beating he could take. Letting her slip through his fingers was something he couldn’t afford. Not when he finally had her.
Had her smiling and laughing at his stupid jokes. He could still hear her sweet giggling in his ear. See the heart-melting smile taking over her alluring features. Had seen her sleeping serenely in the coziness of her insanely overpriced California king, lips parted with a little bit of drool sneaking out. He’d had the privilege of bathing with her, exploring every luxurious inch of skin while quelling the ache in her bones. She had washed his damn hair. The feeling of her careful fingers on him in such an innocent yet intimate moment still drove him mad. The scent of her fruity cshampoo resided, mixing in with the dirt covering his backside as an encouragement to follow her.
“(Y/N), stop,” JJ managed to get out as he stood up at the same time holding his side with one hand where it seemed to hurt the most. The girl didn’t listen to him though, she kept walking with more intent to distance herself. The others were looking on but nothing else was said. John B turned around, refusing to watch any longer as he went back into his home to bitterly find the First Aid Kit. Kie wanted to step toward JJ to check on him but he rushed off, walking as fast he could to reach (Y/N). Pope placed a hand on Kie’s shoulder sighing before nudging her inside. Nothing would be resolved within two days.
(Y/N) ignores his voice calling out to her, shutting out every emotion related to JJ possible. She could return to her ice queen status, embody it once more to bury the agony and enter a state of desolation. But he was persistent, walking after her even as she got further and further away from the house. “(Y/N),” JJ’s voice was calm from behind her but she shook her head trying to will away the oncoming rampage of tears. They had started from the moment the boys started throwing fists and now they had a life of their own. “Hey- I.. I can take you home, you don’t have to walk or get a ride,” JJ tried to pull her back to him by any means but she stopped dead in her tracks. He hadn’t even realizing he was gaining on her until almost running into her when she came to a halt.
“No JJ. Don’t you get it?” she asked without hesitancy as she shifted to face him. JJ saw nothing in her eyes, no glint or glimmer, no hope for their possible future. “We can’t see each other anymore. We hurt people when we’re together JJ,” (Y/N) was stoic, refusing to instill JJ with any false hope. There was no world where they could be an item. Where they could cuddle in front of their friends. Go on double dates. Marry with a best man if it came down to that. As much as she wanted to let go of everything and melt into his stupidly perfect lips, she remained passive. Refusing to acknowledge the love she so obviously felt for him and choosing to endure the pain that would no doubt find a permanent home within her. (Y/N) locked it all away, tucking it deep into a place where it couldn’t reach her.
JJ’s Adam’s apple bobbed while his nose scrunched up, shaking his head in refusal. He looked off into the distance before meeting her stare. His throat felt dry, constricting from the fear accumulating the more she pulled away. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N),” JJ repeated the words from last night, watching as something flashed through her eyes. “I meant that. And you meant what you said. About you wanting me,” JJ reminded taking a shaky step forward before saying fuck all and reaching his hands up to cradle (Y/N)’s cheeks in his hand. He gave her a torturously sad smile, fingers tracing the lines of her cheekbone. “You remember, last night in the bathtub too. I know you do,” he whispered, coming in closer to her, enveloping her senses.
He almost had her for a moment, (Y/N)’s brain cells mushing when he admitted that he did remember his late night confession. JJ’s pure vulnerability and the slightly forceful grip on her cheeks allowed her to rethink for a moment, consider the possibility that they could somehow fix this together. Her own admission had been a forthcoming revelation. More than JJ could’ve imagined when he brought it up. His blue eyes pierced through her, shaky hand gripping at his wrist. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating to be tempted in such a way. Her eyes closed. Knowing the way he was silently begging her every way possible would make her cave.
“It was sex… I was horny and you were too,” (Y/N) didn’t feel like she was in her body as the words came out. Her voice monotone and quiet. He was close enough for her to not have to yell it out. “This was nothing,” she continued even as she felt his hands drop from her face. It was daunting, so much so that she refused to see the destruction she was surely executing. Her heart was close to vanishing, entire body going numb. Not only was she losing a second person in the span of twenty four hours, but she was also losing her person. The one person she thinks might’ve been meant for her.
But JJ needed her to face it. He needed her to take in every single aspect of what this meant. (Y/N) wasn’t just taking a break from them, she was leaving. Closing the chapter on their summer together and ending something that had just barely gotten started. “Nothing? I think you’re a liar,” JJ’s temper was rising with her, loathing how she could let her overthinking take control of her life. “I think we’ve both known it since the moment we met. This is real and you’re just fucking scared,” his voice raised, finally showing his disdain for her choices.
(Y/N) dared to open her eyes which was something she’d regret till the end of time. JJ’s face had completely fallen. Her insides twisted, knotting and curling until she wanted to turn around and let out all the contents in her stomach. Which were actually none but eating right now sounded like a joke. The light in his blue irises that attracted (Y/N) to him in the first place had dimmed now. Disrupted by her hasty disregard. His lips were in a thin line, hands balled at his sides, chest rising and falling with every excruciating breath. It took everything inside of her to turn her heart to stone. Telling herself it was for the best.
“I’m sorry JJ,” she finalized the conversation.
Turning away from him and putting this singular moment behind herself.
Allowing herself to believe that they would be better off without her meddling.
The flood resumed down her cheeks now that he couldn’t see her disappearing into the following street. In the very back of (Y/N)’s mind, the little spot reserved for JJ, she still wished he’d chase her once more. Nudge her his way with his electrifying touch, kiss her until it felt like there was a volcano erupting inside of her. She’d say yes to the ride this time. She’d allow him to hold her in bed and soak his shirt with her tears. Even stay the night and every night after for as long as he needed to.
But none of that happened.
There were no footsteps besides her rapidly paced ones. (Y/N) wanted to say she was relieved, but it felt more like the entire universe had disintegrated. Her lungs felt like they were tied and knotted with rope, only able to take shallow breaths. A choice that took her all of two seconds before she was regretting had transformed everything.
If (Y/N) had thought any of this would be easy, the red baseball cap perched on top of her grey chair sent her into another meltdown, knees buckling to the ground with no one to catch her this time.
She’d lost them all.
*****
Read Part 1 here
Feedback/Thoughts welcomed in my inbox! x
If you’d like to be tagged in future posts of this mini-series please join my taglist here🫶🏼
A/N: I’ve literally never written blood play or subspace so I hope I did it justice😭 Don’t know what got into me but possessive JJ is just everything😩
I have another work in my drafts but it’s an anon request so part 3 will be coming later on❤️
Thank you so much for reading whether you came for the smut or plot😭😂! Please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it!💕
John B’s Mini Series Tags: @fishingirl12 @sweetlikerockcandy @imtired0811
General Tags: @dropperyourhnd @leclercch16 @kys4-20
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hwangism143 · 4 months
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battleground
synopsis: you hated your co-president, kim seungmin. but, it's your last year of high school and prom planning is up to the two of you. you just expect getting work done and leaving school. what you don't expect however, is kim seungmin looking after you (considering you never do) and you coaxing him into being your prom date.
pairing: non-idol!seungmin x fem!reader
genre: academic rival to lovers, crack, fluff, high school au, angst if you squint
warnings: swearing, mentions of eating, mentions of fatigue and fainting, sickness and overworking, slight themes of stalking, panic attack but not mentioned as such, mentions of alcohol, overconsumption of alcohol, a shit ton of pop culture references (i'm sorry)
word count: 21k words (?!)
requested by: @starlostseungmin (hi kaisey ily)
playlist: gorgeous - taylor swift, true love - p!nk, CHILL - stray kids, make you mine - madison beer, teenage dream - katy perry
a/n: real life men are better of as just enemies. my fictional rendition of seungmin, however, is not. (also i hope it isn't obvious that i have never been to prom.)
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"you ruined my life, by not being mine"
"Was that an attempt of trying to flirt with me? Cause, wow, you need to step your game up," Seungmin told you with a smirk.
Sunlight streamed through the library windows, illuminating the dust that covered the bookshelves. They were proof of the lack of visits to the old haven of knowledge. Settled in an armchair was Kim Seungmin, book in one hand, glasses slightly crooked and one legged propped upon the other.
You let out a puff of breath in an attempt to calm yourself down because, who did he even think he was? "No, Kim, it wasn't. I am literally a teenage girl and yet, you are the most delusional person I have ever meet," you spit out, "The principal's calling us. Let's go."
"Alright, fine," Seungmin responded lazily. He stretched his long limbs and got up from the armchair he was cozily tucked up in.
He joined you on your walk towards the principal's office while you told off whatever force was above that caused you to be walking to impeding doom with Kim Seungmin on a Friday morning.
You both had a bitter rivalry that began your first year in high school. Coinciding with the fact that the said high school was also a boarding school, there was no escaping Seungmin. You couldn't even pinpoint when your feelings towards him changed from indifference to animosity; but having been pitted against each other for all your academic life at Park Academy, it certainly did make sense.
It wasn't that you didn't respect Seungmin. He was good at everything he did and a worthy opponent in all your endeavors. But he just made it so difficult for you to like him.
Your already dysfunctional relationship with him only took a turn for the worse this high school senior year. Both of you had decided to run for student council president. Despite all the campaigning and emotional blackmailing, you both had tied for the position.
Your incredible school, instead of holding a tie-breaker, deciding to make you both student council presidents. The idea of writing 'student council co-president' on your college applications physically made you wince.
But the worst part? Seungmin and you actually worked really well together. Deciding to keep your rivalry out of anything student council related on your first session (the banter continued though, nothing could take that away), you both had built up one of the best councils the school had seen under your shared leadership.
You didn't know just how well you both would get along when it came to matters as such, but that didn't lead to either of you warming up to each other. Conversation between you both strictly consisted of official matters and jabs at each other.
In fact, you hated each other's presence so much that you both almost instantly decided on splitting responsibilities to avoid running into each other. Oddly enough, you both seemed to agree on a lot of things. You always just brushed it off with a, great minds think alike.
Not that you would ever confess to Seungmin that you considered him to be someone with a 'great mind'.
The both of you walked towards the principal's office in silence. When you eventually got there, the receptionist quickly ushered you both inside. You smoothed down your skirt and sat down with your hands in you lap. Beside you, you noticed Seungmin drape his blazer over the back of his chair and take a seat.
Your principal was on a call and winked at the both of you, pointing towards the phone and turning her finger around in a circle near her temple. Seungmin flashed her a strained smile while you hoped that the expression of judgment on your face wasn't obvious.
For some reason, Principal Kim thought that she was your friend. When she finally put the phone down, she snorted, "Superintendents, am I right?"
Seungmin and you laughed weakly in response. Principals, am I right? was the phrase you were currently trying very hard to bite back.
Coming closer, Principal Kim laced her fingers together and leaned onto the table. "As you both know," she began, "We have around five months till prom."
A buzzing grew in your stomach, excitement engulfing your senses. Prom. Your sole respite, the event that you had looked forward to your entire high school life. From watching Disney movies romanticizing prom at a young age, to subsequently moving onto books that did the same, you felt like prom would be the pinnacle of your time in school.
"Now," continued Principal Kim, "While I do know that you both have a tendency to work separately, I would like you both to chair the prom committee together this year. We are thinking of making this year's prom one of Park Academy's finest. Take your time and compile the best Prom committee you can and get started on everything."
She clapped her hand and leaned back, beaming at her best students. "That is all," she smiled softly, nudging a tray of toffees towards you both.
Seungmin looked mortified at the thought of eating something from the principal's office like he was six. In any other circumstance you would have too, but the giddiness of both prom planning and not having had anything for over twenty four hours compelled you to take one.
"Aren't you excited?" you asked Seungmin as you both walked out of the door.
You were opening the toffee wrapper when he responded with a curt, "No. I personally believe that prom is a waste of time. I'll help in the committee planning and be present if I need to, but you can rightfully assume that I will not be enjoying any of it."
You were slightly shocked at his response but responded with a scathing, "I didn't know that the Kim Seungmin was too high and haughty for prom."
He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to make eye contact with you. "Prom is like a playground for bullies and confused teenagers. It's a battleground for snarky comments and raging hormones and, might I add, brings out the worst in people."
He quickly turned on his heel and walked away before you could utter a word. You slowly let out a deep breath to control you anger and headed in the same direction as him, towards the cafeteria. You can hear the chatter of students and the sudden influx of sound momentarily causes your world to spin.
You're leaning against one of the lockers trying to steady yourself when feel an arm around your waist hoisting you up.
Hyunjin clicked beside you in disappointment. "Don't make me start feeding you now."
You just sighed in response and leaned your head against his shoulders. He was right, of course. You had the horrible habit of putting your health second (to last) with regards to anything that had to do with university and getting in. One of those things was skipping meals in favor of studying.
"I don't understand how people who sleep eight hours a day get shit done," you whined against Hyunjin.
"Well, has it ever occurred to you that people usually don't have as much shit to do as you do?" your best friend responded wisely. You lightly tapped the side of your sneaker against his.
Hwang Hyunjin was practically your brother in every aspect possible. He was lovable, caring, annoying and wanted to make you rip your hair out. All of this was what you assumed having a sibling was like, being an only child yourself. Ironically, he was one too.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You first met Hyunjin during an art class that you had to take for your first week of school. You struggled with drawing a straight line, while embarrassingly using a ruler. He was sitting beside you and calmly sketched one of the most incredible monochromatic landscapes you had ever seen.
When fourteen-year old Hyunjin gave your drawing a practically dangerous side eye and when you looked at him with eyes pleading to help you, the foundation of your friendship was laid. Later, when you handed him half a Snickers bar as a means of saying 'thank you', your friendship was cemented in chocolate and pencil shavings.
You both were joined at the hip ever since.
Your other best friend, Jeongin, had a habit of seemingly materializing out of nowhere and startling you in the process.
"Hi," he said, his face spawning in front of yours.
His wild hair and crazed smile caused you to yelp in surprise and hit your arm against the water fountain. Hyunjin laughed at your misfortune while Jeongin apologized with an extremely unapologetic smile. You resorted to glaring at both of them.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The story of how Jeongin turned your duo into your trio was a tale in itself. Jeongin was a year younger than you and Hyunjin, currently a junior. You had first spotted him on his first day of school, him waddling around like a lost duckling and you unwittingly (and unwillingly) taking on the role of a mother hen.
Hyunjin had seen young Jeongin standing in the crowd, desperately trying to act cool. Jeongin's shoes were a painful pattern of key lime and hot pink that most definitely did not match together. He wore an oversized jacket and sent a small nod towards everyone who looked his way, hands jammed in his jeans pocket.
"That one," Hyunjin declared while dragging you along with him, "We're adopting that one."
And so two became three.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Presently, you scoffed at Jeongin. "How did you even become student council vice president?"
Jeongin beamed at you, counting off his fingers as he listed of his campaigning winning qualities. "I'm hot, rich, smart and funny."
Hyunjin snorted in response, him on one side of you and Jeongin on the other. "Innie, you are several things but smart is not one of them."
You were compelled to nod in response as Jeongin responded with a gasp, "You too? How could you betray me as well."
You would have issued a sarcastic reply to what he said, but you were too distracted by Hyunjin being distracted. He had suddenly stood still at the entryway of cafeteria, staring at something in the distance.
When you followed his line of sight, you suppressed the urge to burst out into laughter. Jeongin, however, did not.
"Gosh Hyunjin," he wheezed between laughs, "Just ask Riya out. Watching you suffer in this down bad, unspoken friend zoned phase is pitiful."
Hyunjin had been in love with Riya Rai for well over two years. You could obviously tell why; she was gorgeous, smart and a part of Hyunjin's dance class. You were truly rooting for them to start dating, Riya being one of your roommates.
You still remembered the way Hyunjin gushed over her classical dance audition. ('I couldn't understand the words but it was like she was flying!') Jeongin too, was subject to Hyunjin's hopeless love for her. Being the kind of person Hyunjin was, he fell for her hard and deep.
You were happy for Hyunjin, you truly were. But a part of you longed to feel a love like that for somebody. Not even a relationship, just feel love dripping into your heart until it rushed in like a torrent.
You were always so busy with proving yourself to others, that you never really took the time to introspect your own desires.
"Hyunjin," you asked impatiently once you remembered what exactly you wanted to talk about.
"Hm?" he responded as you both grabbed your food and sat at a table with your regular friend group.
Riya slid in beside Hyunjin and you could feel him visibly tense. You couldn't understand why he was so nervous to profess his feelings for her. Any girl (apart from you, because ew) would be willing to date Hyunjin.
Riya brightly made her pleasantries after which you asked solemnly, "Guys. Would you do me the honor of being part of the prom planning committee?"
Riya and Hyunjin were the few people who shared the enthusiasm for prom which you did. Riya mouth slowly hung open while Hyunjin sharply took in a breath.
"Really?" he whispered in awe.
You nodded happily as Hyunjin hugged you from one side and Riya clambered over to where you were sitting to wrap her arms around you. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou," she repeated like a chant while Hyunjin excitedly began plotting décor ideas.
Maybe you wouldn't need romantic love while you had them.
You were busy people watching and tuning out Riya and Hyunjin's enthusiastic chatter when you caught site of Seungmin. He was sitting with his best friend, Lee Felix. You found their friendship quite odd. How could the embodiment of happiness be so close with the devils spawn?
I guess opposites attract platonically too.
You lamented at the thought of co-heading a prom committee with a partner who hated prom until an idea struck you. If Kim Seungmin hated prom, you could teach him how to love it. That lunch break, you made an executive decision that, unbeknown to you, would inevitably change you life.
You decided to open Kim Seungmin's eyes to the brilliance of prom.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - five months.
Seungmin stood next to you as you both waited for the rest of the student council members to make their way for your impromptu Saturday meeting. The two of you stared up at one of the most monstrous things you had ever seen in your lives.
A large banner with a blue background and the words "T-5 MONTHS TILL PROM!!!" in an ugly orange text stared back at you.
You gaped at the banner, seething with anger. "Let me find the person whose amazing idea this was and rearrange their body proportions for them."
Seungmin just responded calmly, "Maybe this is a sign from the universe to get our act together, delegate responsibilities to the committee and actually get started on prom."
"Not all of us are as optimistic as you, Kim," you told him dryly.
"Not all of us have an insatiable bloodlust, candy cane," he retorted monotonously.
Your mouth pressed into a thin line as you turned to see Seungmin's eyebrow cocked in a persumed sense of superiority.
You despised the nickname, a knowing jab at your short stature. Seungmin first called you candy cane when he noted how your height was nearly equivalent to the candy canes lining your school halls in your junior year.
It had stuck when you both were privately conversing with each other ever since.
His indifference slightly bristled you, but then again you were known for having a slightly short temper.
Chatter flowed in through the library's door, accompanied by the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor. People who you and Seungmin had individually contacted, along with most student council members, began entering the room.
You noticed Hyunjin making his way to sit next to Riya, who was busy in conversation with Felix. The three of them were known for being close due to dance club. You shot Hyunjin an encouraging smile and he gave you a slightly crooked one.
Jeongin bounded up to the front to assume his rightful place as vice president. You ruffled his hair and he pinched your arm in retaliation. Your little squeal and his irritated grunt earning an annoyed look from Seungmin.
He cleared his throat loudly, instantly commanding the attention of the entire room. Faces turned to look at him when his voice called out, "I hope you all know why we have gathered here today."
He turned to look at you, your cue to begin talking. "As you may be aware, you all have been selected as this year's Park Academy Prom Committee!"
The room burst into applause as Seungmin continued, a routine familiar to you both. You didn't know how the two of you did it. Without even prior conversation, you two fell into sync when it came to addressing the crowd in front of you for your co-lead student council meetings.
Once again you chalked it up to, great minds think alike. There was no way you and Seungmin had anything else in common, apart from the occasional train of thought.
Right?
When your long sermon was finally finished, the room was buzzing with excitement. Teenage hormones and the onset of prom brewed a recipe for eager anticipation. This is it, you thought, this is the last piece of my childhood I have left.
On the advice of Principal Kim, you and Seungmin split the overall committee into three groups: one for decorations, one for publicity and one to arrange entertainment.
Jeongin had proclaimed himself the 'god of social media' and sauntered off to the group in charge of publicity. Hyunjin, Riya and Felix automatically were presumed to be part of décor, with Hyunjin elected head of their group. ('I will not let my team down. Over my dead fucking body,' he told you in complete seriousness later that day.)
Finally, you and Seungmin were left handling booking and anything else payment and transaction related. Principal Kim's vehement repetition of how she only trusted the two of you with cash was seared into your brain.
As you both took rounds of the large library hall, something kept nagging at you, itching the back of your brain. It disheartened you to see how warmly everyone interacted with Seungmin in comparison with you.
What bothered you even more, however, was how warmly Seungmin, interacted with others when compared to you.
Being likable was one of, if not the biggest goal in your life. Knowing that a single person disliked you sent you into a frenzy. Call it your upbringing or society, either way you felt like everybody you knew had to find you to be a good person, or else you weren't.
Other people's opinions were like medicine to you. Gaining external validation became such a large part of your life that sometimes, you forgot that what you thought, what you wanted, mattered as well.
And in this draining people-pleasing process, you weren't quite 'friends' with everyone. You were friendly and appreciated among your students, yes. But you didn't have a large friend group full of people who cherished your very existence, like Seungmin.
That was probably why you called Hyunjin and Jeongin were your best friends. It took away from the fact that they were your only friends. Seeing them with their own, other friends hurt, but it was too late now.
There was no point making more friends when you would be gone anyways. And despite how much you wanted to, you knew that creating deeper connections only to break them away would prove pointless.
You and Seungmin settled into the small bean bag pods which were propped up against the empty library walls. He scrolled through his phone with utmost concentration as you did the same, tapping away at your laptop keys.
"We'll have to sit with Lily for planning the budget," Seungmin broke the silence while referring to the committee treasurer, "But she has texted me the overall amount we have in the trust."
Seungmin opened the message and angled his phone towards you, eliciting a gasp from your mouth.
"That is an insane amount. Do you know what this means? We truly can make this Park Academy's best prom yet!" you excitedly began listing off the non-existent limits to which the money could spent.
"You forgot something," Seungmin added, stunning you to silence. What could have you forgotten about prom which Seungmin could have remembered?
The stoic expression on his face, however, told you it was nothing good.
"We need to show extreme constraint while using the money and be strict on the group," Seungmin huffed.
You blew in anger, "The entire point of having an extensive budget is to let loose! God, you're like the Grinch of prom or something."
"Please sweetheart," he snorted, "I'm far better looking than him. Even you can't deny that."
And as infuriating Seungmin seemed to you, he was correct. Seungmin was drop dead gorgeous. Even in a plain school uniform, he had the power to turn several heads. In fact, you would be lying if you said that you didn't find him a teensy bit attractive.
Not that he would ever obtain that information.
Seungmin went back to work, looking for banquet halls and hotels open to being the venue for prom. You observed him carefully, trying to figure the psychology behind why he hated prom. Then, you realized that to to succeed in your mission, you didn't have too.
The Grinch fell in love with Christmas too...
"I have made an executive decision," you announced to no one but Seungmin in particular.
He looked up, an expression of boredom and confusion coating his features.
"How exactly, darling, did you take an executive decision without consulting half of the executive. I thought you were smart enough to know how decision making takes place," a smug smile adorned him.
You rolled your eyes at him, "I will make you like prom."
Seungmin scoffed, "As if. You know what, Y/N? I bet you can't."
You sighed in fake defeat, cheering inside. One thing about having an academic rival was predicting their moves to the point where you knew how to trap them. It was like a game of chess, where Seungmin thought he had the upper hand, but you were one move away from checkmate.
You understood what made Seungmin tick, what ignited passion in him and what triggered him. You knew how to get a rise out of him and get him to calm down. More terrifyingly so, you knew that he knew the same.
You likened it to years of shared dislike, denying the fact that you both maybe were alike.
"I mean, considering our role in the entire organization of prom, we'll be stuck together all night anyways," you lamented in disappointment, "Truthfully speaking, I honestly did expect you to decline my invitation to formally attend prom with me as my de facto date."
"Although I wasn't planning on calling you that," you included for good measure.
You decided to deviate from telling him the real reason why you wanted to take him to prom. Out of everyone in this school, Seungmin was the last person left whose good books you didn't have so much as a footnote in.
You knew that this little social experiment of yours to leave school with everyone singing praises about you was highly selfish, but you needed this to feel worthy of graduating. You needed this to feel worthy of being a part of a social communities.
You could practically see the anger teeming from Seungmin at proving you right. "Fine," he spit out, "I'll be your date."
Checkmate.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - four months and 16 days.
With final assessments right around the corner, physical committee meetings came to a halt. All conversations took place through group chats and the occasional locker meetups. In all the frenzy of studying, you were once again indulging in sleepless nights and nutrition-less days.
Seungmin had gone into hibernation mode and as had you. All your phones were on do not disturb and casual fun was out of the question. Today, you had taken release in the library, headphones on and coffee in hand.
You were (pathetically, to some, advantageously, to you) on a first name basis with the resident librarian. Because of you often staying late nights (correction: all night) in the library, you even had your own spare key to lock up when you were done. It was a little secret you both shared.
Today, however, you felt uneasy. A transfer student by the name of Benji had been unceasingly making romantic advances towards you the past week. Although you reject him multiple times, his feats of grandeur only grew.
He was currently sitting a few tables away from you, the only other person in the library apart from librarian Kang. Even though he attempted to look busy and engrossed in the book in his hand, he kept stealing glances from you.
It was late, very much so. Everybody would be asleep and you didn't want to disturb anyone. You calmed your nerves but reached your breaking point when Kang asked Benji if he planned to leave anytime soon and he refused.
In a state of both fear and fatigue, you dialed the number of the only person who you knew would be awake at this time and waited for the call to ring out.
"Hello?" came Seungmin's bewildered voice. You rarely called him and even then, never at this hour.
"Seungmin, hi. I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor?" you asked him, hoping to suppress the  anxiety in your voice.
He must have noticed though, because his voice was alert. "Sure, what's up?"
"You know how Benji has been treating me, right?"
He hummed in acknowledgement. Of course he knew. Benji boasted so much that everyone knew.
"Well, I'm in the library and so is he. He's the only one here and it's kinda freaking me out. If it's ok with you, can you please just stay on call with me just in case? You can put me on hold or something, just please be active. I'm really sorry but you're the only other person who I knew would be awake right now."
You heard rustling in the background and his voice finally came back, "Wait. My dorm is loud anyways so I'll meet you there."
"Oh, okay, okay."
To your extreme relief, Seungmin did not hang up the call. Instead, you could hear his footsteps. All the mundane sounds of him locking his dorm, shoes slapping against the concrete and heavy breathing (due to running, but that didn't make sense) oddly calmed you down.
That was, however, until Benji walked over to where you were sitting. He gave you a venomous smile and leaned over to books right above your head. Pulling out a book from the shelf above your head and walked away, something sharp glinting in his hand.
You breathing quickened. "Seungmin, he has a sharp object. I have assessed all possible escape routes. I would suggest that you leave as I will probably as well if the situation escalates."
"Are you fucking out of your mind?" he questioned, almost sounding angry that you had even thought of saying something like that.
"I'm not leaving you alone with him or giving him an opportunity to fuck with the students of this school. He may be here for only two weeks, but I'll make sure he doesn't hurt a single person."
The steel in his voice made you shudder. You did not want to be on Kim Seungmin's death list. The library doors swung open as librarian Kang let out an exasperated sigh.
"Another wannabe Einstein," she muttered under her breath as Seungmin made his way towards you.
He looked like a sight for sore eyes in his plain sweater and gray sweatpants. Seungmin gave you a subtle not and took a seat right beside you, pulling out his books and tablet. Soon you both started studying and, before you knew it you both were engaged in a heated competition to see who could solve as many trigonometry problems as possible correctly, in the least time.
Throughout this duration, you didn't find out much personally about him, but saw a more carefree side of him. In fact, you liked this carefree side of him.
He winced when you pointed out the simple mistake he made that caused him to lose in the end. "I can't believe I've forgotten what the division symbol looks like."
You giggled and poked his arm, legs underneath your feet. "Is this what letters in math is doing to you?"
Seungmin shrugged sheepishly with a tiny smile. "Go ahead, shortcake, gloat."
Instead, you posed him with a question, "Why do you always insult my height? Like, that seems to be your favorite."
Maybe, just maybe, you were imagining it, but you saw a light blush scatter over Seungmin's cheeks. He cleared his throat and, in what must have been a moment of vulnerability said, "You are good at literally everything else. Your height is the only thing I can ask you about."
You stared at him slightly open mouthed at his sudden respect. In an instant, the room felt to hot and Seungmin's face felt to close to yours. The moment was broken, however, by the simultaneous and not at all harmonious chorus of a chair scratching against the floor and you're stomach rumbling.
Benji was gone and but your appetite was back. Seungmin must have heard it too because his right eyebrow was ticked up.
"When, exactly, did you last eat?"
"Today," you admitted sheepishly, "Morning. At 6."
"And what was it?"
Another gulp. "A banana."
Seungmin shook his head in disappointment and rifled through his bag. He pulled out a mushed granola bar and handed it to you.
"Eat," he commanded.
"Okay," you said meekly. "Wait, this is my favorite brand!"
"Yeah, I think you mentioned that before," Seungmin said nonchalantly, but you noted the slight quiver in his voice.
You took a bite and it felt like your body was screaming at you. It felt so good to eat after just having six in the morning bananas for the past few days, that you little out an embarrassing little squeal in content.
"I'm surprised you remembered," you referenced Seungmin earlier statement and folded the wrapper in a neat rectangle. Putting it in your pocket to throw away later, you waited for Seungmin's response.
It never came. His head was bent and he was hard at work, evidently ignoring. Seeing this as an indication that the conversation was over, you got back to your own work. That wasn't, however, without a feeling of something new that wasn't hate - adjacent.
You felt a little blossom of affection in your stomach for the boy flipping through the pages of his notebook beside you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - it's finals!
You slammed your Astrophysics textbook against your desk, yet again unable to get stuff to fit in your brain. It was your last final and while you crammed for your other subjects, Seungmin had told Hyunjin that you were back to your old habits. Hyunjin and Riya had then joined hands and blackmailed you into (yuck) taking care of yourself.
"Seriously," you grumbled, "How do people who get eight hours of sleep get their shit done?"
Finally coming to the conclusion that you were helpless, you reached for your phone to text all your questions to Seeun, the assistant teacher. Seeun was a university student interning at your school, and an alumni as well. Citing how she was very much close in age with the students of your grade (if six years is considered 'close'), she insisted that you all call her Seeun and not Miss Choi.
You were in such a rush that you didn't even check for typos, tackling another chapter while waiting for Seeun's response. You still had one more day to study, considering that your exam was the day after tomorrow, you were going to use all twenty four hours and more to your advantage, not wasting a single bit.
Finding it odd that Seeun still hadn't responded considering how bored she always said she was and her frighteningly quick response times, you decided to check your phone. To your horror, however, you found out that in your rush, instead of sending your questions to Seeun, you had sent them to Seungmin.
His responses were almost instantaneous.
[8:18 AM]
You: [sent attachment]
You: Hi Seeun, I had a few questions regarding these topics. I was wondering if we could meet up tmrw to discuss them? Thx!
[8:20 AM]
kim stuck-up seungmin (sigh): i'm not seeun, but i could help
kim stuck-up seungmin (sigh): i tutored a few seniors taking this class last year
kim stuck-up seungmin (sigh): if you want, how does the coffee shop down the street at eight sound to you?
You were practically smiling at your phone. It obviously had to do about the fact that it was someone offering you help, not that it was Seungmin specifically. (Duh?) After waging a long, internal war, you finally opted to sacrifice what little dignity you had in front of Seungmin's eyes and take him up on his offer.
[2:47 PM]
You: really? omg thx!
You: see you then
[2:48 PM]
kim stuck-up seungmin (sigh): k, ig i'll see you there
Huh. Weird. Seungmin was notorious for being known to reply to people after a minimum of at least two hours, if they were lucky enough not to be left on read.
Not reading to much into it, you went back to work. Work wasn't just work though. It was an influx of nervous butterflies accompanying it. Not that it had anything to do with Seungmin, of course.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
When you got to the coffee shop that morning, it was technically 7:55. But, as you had always been taught, five minutes early is on time. Seungmin must have abided by that philosophy too, because soon he stumbled through the door.
You hadn't even picked a table to sit at when he tapped you shoulder and said, "Hey."
You turned to find Seungmin with the same green, battered back pack he took everywhere slung over one shoulder. His hair was tousled in an endearing way that made you want to squish him. His eyes were surprisingly warm and his lips were turned up.
"Like what you see sweetheart?" he teased.
You rolled your eyes at him, "No, of course not. It's like looking at something so hideous that you can't peel your eyes off of it."
He gave you a good natured laugh and walked alongside you to the coffee table.
After much deliberation, which mainly consisted of you and Seungmin arguing over the pros and cons of a window seat, you finally settled on a seat close enough to the large glass window for Seungmin's satisfaction and far enough to not prove distracting to you.
When your sugar packet tower fell down in the process of building it, he grinned at you again. It felt nice, having Seungmin's smile directed towards you.
Whoa, slow down there. Are you ok?
Without even realizing what you were saying, you asked Seungmin, "Why do you always cover your face when you laugh?"
Seungmin's smile slightly faded. "When I was in middle school, I used to wear braces. The kids... they found it weird, which meant they found me weird."
You were shocked. How could anyone dislike his smile? Seungmin's smile was one of the prettiest smile's you had ever seen. And mind you, you used to hate Kim Seungmin.
Used to. Now, it was more like you were tolerating him, sometimes even appreciating him. Wow, something really is wrong with you.
You snorted. "If I could travel back in time," you declared, "I would deck those dumbasses in the phase."
Seungmin choked on the coffee that the waitress had dropped off a few minutes ago. He surprisingly remembered your order, despite you only mentioning it to him during his student council coffee runs only once or twice before.
"Y/N, I'm pretty sure that's a crime," Seungmin snickered.
You raised your eyebrows in response. "And if you don't help me with this, I'm about to commit a crime, and you won't be in a position to testify."
With that, the lessons began.
Seungmin was an extremely good teacher. He was well known among the student body for being the kind of tutor that took F grades and turned them into a B+ or A-. Even you wanted to start tutoring, but your patience often wore thin faster than it did for others.
Seungmin though, didn't break a sweat. He revised concepts over and over again until you understood, making sure that at the end, you didn't have a single semblance of a doubt in your mind when it came to the related topic.
Two hours later, you were finally done.
"Now," Seungmin announced, "We will have some fun and let loose."
You were putting your books inside when you clicked a pen in your hand restlessly. "You, prim and proper Kim Seungmin, want to 'let loose' and 'have some fun'?"
Seungmin clicked his tongue in exasperation. "Look tiny, I'm disciplined, but I know my limits. You have already studied everything to the T. Plus, your exam is tomorrow. Get some fresh air and take a break now, then revise once more in the evening."
You wondered how he could be so careless when he probably had an exam tomorrow too. "What about you? Don't you have to study as well?"
Seungmin sent you a devious grin and you felt your knees go weak a little (No. What?)
"I had my last exam yesterday, honey," he happily shared, patting your head in mock pity in the process.
Honey, that was new. You were so used to the reoccurrences of 'darling', 'sweetheart' and terms related to your height that the new nickname caught you slightly off guard.
You hoped the expression on your face clearly conveyed that you found his actions traitorous. "How dare you prey on a vulnerable young woman just to quench your loneliness?"
"Come on," Seungmin coaxed, "We can hit the boardwalk, get lunch and go back to the dorms. You and I both know that we aren't invited to Saturday gatherings due to unfortunately being classified as 'nerds'."
In the end, you relented. After all, who can say no to someone whose beaming smile rivalled the shine of a rainbow and whose honeyed voice washed over you like a soothing balm?
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Boardwalk was the name that the students had given to the all year amusement park reminiscent set up that was just a few minutes away from the dorms. You had come here several times, but rarely with someone else and mostly to clear your head. (And watch toddlers shrieking on the carousel).
The moment you got your pink wristbands, Seungmin dragged you to the stalls where you played to win a plushie. He was so intent on winning something that you found it almost adorable.
"You do know that these are all scams, right? There's no way you'll win," you stated confidently, disregarding the mammoth scowl on the game operators face."
Seungmin lazily picked up a dart and aimed for the balloons hung on the wall. He cocked his head towards you and gave you a wink, "This one's for you, sweetheart."
To your utmost surprise, the dart hit the balloon perfectly. Even Seungmin looked stunned. The operator offered him another dart and you a self-assured smirk. He once again hit the dart again, with a satisfying pop!.
"All right folks," the operator droned, "Pick a stuffed toy."
Seungmin nudged you slightly, "Which one?"
You glanced at him, "You won, so it's only fair that you choose."
Seungmin smirked at you, "Nope. I recall mentioning that that one was for you."
Heat pooled in your stomach, which shouldn't have. Especially when the cause were Kim Seungmin.
"Okay," you jutted out your head to make eye contact with him and turned back to choose the lucky stuffed toy.
You pointed at a medium sized elephant plushie and grabbed it eagerly. Holding it tight to your chest you said, "What should we name our child Seungmin?"
He presented you with no reply and a face contorted with judgement.
Pouting, you mockingly told the elephant, "Look, your father doesn't love you."
Feigning an offended gasp, Seungmin promptly snatched the elephant from you, "Don't listen to your mother, Ello."
"Ello?" You laughed.
"Shh," Seungmin chastised, "Let my inner European be free."
The mild spring breeze whipped your hair around and you took of your jacket, wrapping it around your waist. You spotted a fallen rose and quickly went to pick it up. It was still in pristine condition and in a random bout of girlhood, you tried to tuck it behind your ear.
Silently, Seungmin motioned towards you taking Ello and you handing him the rose. Seungmin somehow managed to break of the thorns without cutting himself.
Delicately lifting up the hair behind your hair, he began to adjust the rose in place. Since he was considerably taller than you, Seungmin leaned in front. You could see every valley and crevice in his face and for some reason, you wanted to hold it in your arms.
A rush thumped through your chest. As silly as it seemed, nobody had ever quite touched you like that. Seungmin's breath smelled like chocolates and cinnamon.
A rebellious part if you wondered if that was what he would taste like.
Lightly clearing his throat, he continued walking and you followed wordlessly. A few random rides later, you both finally found yourself in front of the Disco Pang Pang. A smile tugged at your lips. You were so going on this ride today.
Cheeks flushed from the fun you were having, you said breathlessly, "Let's go."
Seungmin visibly gulped, "I don't know."
"Aw come on, don't tell me you're scared." Seeing the petrified expression on his face however, you quickly retracted your statement. "It's fine, we don't have to,"
"No, it's okay," Seungmin managed weakly, "Just, hold me please."
Handing Ello to one of the fair volunteers, you both clambered up the metal stairs and took a seat on the foam benches. Seungmin was right next to you, his arm around the railing of where you sat.
Your initial excitement of experiencing this wore off, however, when the machine suddenly lurched forward. It threw Seungmin on you and his arms instinctively curved around your waist.
The warmth from his body radiated into you and for a moment stayed frozen, eyes glued on each other. You felt electric shocks where he touched you and trembled slightly.
Catching his breath, Seungmin began to apologize profusely. "I'm sorry I didn't mean too-"
The machine lurched again and again. Seungmin had figured out how to maintain his balance and stayed the distance of an arm's length away from you. When it was finally over, you both stumbled onto solid ground, clutching your stomachs.
"That. Was. Awesome!" You decided, delight etching your face.
"I'm convinced you're a six year old boy stuck in an eighteen year old girl's body," Seungmin groaned.
Agreeing upon this being enough fun for one day you both walked back to the dorms and went your separate ways. Astoundingly, Seungmin's advice of taking a break in between studying did help and you noticed that you were retaining information better.
You wanted to thank him and grabbed your phone.
[7:26 PM]
You: ty maybe.
You: I *kinda* had fun today
[7:30 PM]
Ello's dad: just admit it darling
Ello's dad: im fun
[7:31 PM]
You: in ur dreams Kim, in ur dreams
[7:32 PM]
Ello's dad: well then, ig I'll be dreaming of you tonight
You smiled despite yourself and went to bed.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - three months and twenty-five days.
Your relationship with Seungmin was somehow significantly improving. Yes, you still did indulge in your regular banter, but you both now had the ability to have full conversations without actually insulting the other person.
Your exams were finally over and, as presumed, both you and Seungmin had equal grades. What you didn't expect however, was even sharing the title of valedictorian with Seungmin.
The you before your impromptu study session would have been spitting fireballs. The you currently was looking forward to embarrassing Seungmin a little bit (in all good fun), during your moment in the spotlight.
In the fast paced environment of writing finals, wrapping up college applications and facing parents at parent - teacher meetings, the prom committee had forgotten one, extremely crucial component of prom planning: Picking a theme.
It was so stupid, really. None of you even realized until the décor committee was busy trying to decide on decorations and Felix meekly articulated, "Uh, guys. I don't think we ever decided on a set theme."
Seungmin eyes grew wide and you took in a sharp breath. How could you forget something so important? Frantic chatter arose and in a futile-ish attempt, you yelled out to the students, "Guys! Let's just come up with ideas, but in an orderly fashion."
In an instant, the room began quieting down and hands were raised, full of ideas. Seungmin gave you an impressed look and everyone slowly began suggesting various prom themes.
"What if," Noelle screamed from the back of the room, "We had a Paris inspired theme? I know, Paris nights!"
The entire room let out a collective groan. If Korea had koreaboos, then Noelle was some fucked up version of a French-boo. She boasted to whoever would listen that she had French blood, if being named Noelle and visiting Canada for two weeks constituted French heritage.
Riya ears perked up however, and she asked, "How about Aphrodite's Garden?"
You and Seungmin exchanged a look. "Elaborate," asked Seungmin.
Hyunjin gave Riya an encouraging shove and she stood up, "How about a spring theme, but instead of the classic flowers and leaves, it's more sensual and inspired by Greek mythology?"
The room broke into excited conversation, seemingly approving of Riya's idea. Hyunjin stood up next to her, "Riya and I could prepare a mood board and send it to the group chat."
"All in favor," Seungmin asked. A clear majority.
"Perfect," you smiled, "Then it's settled. The theme will be Aphrodite's Garden."
The room went back to it's raucous state as you stepped aside for a moment, head pounding from a headache. You had a cold and staying up all night studying for scholarship tests did not help. You knew you had to pass them though. You weren't willing to give your parents another reason to demean you for being a burden.
You were massaging your temples when Seungmin came up from behind you. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with concern.
"Yep," you tried to muster a positive tone, "Just a headache. I'm peachy."
"Peachy?" Seungmin inquired, his eyebrow cocked upwards and tone full of mischief.
"Don't assume that I don't use the word peachy unironically," you huffed.
Still, Seungmin's apprehensive expression and the exponentially increasing pounding in your head made you feel your gut that something bad was brewing.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You, Jeongin and Hyunjin waited patiently in the computer lab the next day. Hyunjin and Riya had made the mood board for Aphrodite's Garden, but wanted the input of you, Seungmin and Jeongin.
All three of you stood near the window, peering out of the glass and observing the ant-like players on the soccer field below. You wondered what was so appealing about kicking a ball on a Saturday morning.
Hyunjin looked troubled, "I want to ask Riya to prom. But I don't know how."
You let out a sneeze in response and Hyunjin wordlessly handed you a tissue, the despair never leaving his face.
You slightly understood the reasoning behind Hyunjin's thinking. It was promposal season, people planning elaborate and innovative ways to ask each other to prom. Considering the high school you were at, this more often than not involved Rube Goldberg machines and periodic table confessions.
Jeongin let out an audibly exasperated huff of breath. "If you like Riya, just ask her out. The worst she could say is no."
Before you could add onto Jeongin's admonishment, a voice cut through the room.
"What?"
Your eyes widened as you clapped your hand to your mouth. Hyunjin felt himself stumble backwards and Jeongin muttered a low "Fuck" under his breath.
Judging by the tone of the voice and familiar sweetness, you knew it could only belong to one person. Time felt like a concept out of grasp as you, Hyunjin and Jeongin turned to face Riya, standing in the doorway with shock painted on her face.
"I- I can't," she tripped over the doorstep, "Look, I'll just send them to you, I-"
Riya steadied herself, holding on the the doorframe, and then fled the room. Hyunjin glanced at you, his eyes full of pleading.
"Go, quickly," you commanded, and he rushed out of the room in Riya's stead.
"See, this is why you're my favorite," Hyunjin told you while ruffling you, scowling at Jeongin. You sniffed in response as Jeongin's jaw clenched.
Just then, Seungmin entered the room, giving both Hyunjin and Riya and irritated glare. "Weren't they supposed to show us something?"
"They'll just send it to one of us," you told Seungmin, your voice coming out weaker than expected.
"You know what," Jeongin threw his hands up in the air in rage, "Fuck this. If they are out, I am out."
Seungmin stared at you quizzically, as if trying to unravel the pieces of the puzzle that made you, well, you. His eyes must have taken in your sickness - stricken state because the curiosity on his face morphed into concern.
"Are you okay?" Seungmin asked, stepping closer to you.
"Fine," you choked out, but you knew you weren't.
Your head felt like a thousand drills were screwing into it. You felt hot and cold at the same time, throat parched and dry. Your body felt like lead, being weighed down at ever movement. You knew these were the textbook symptoms of a fever and then some more.
You tried to walk forward, but couldn't hold your balance. Dazed, you felt your consciousness slowly slip away due to the lack of sleep you were forcing yourself to put up with it. Exhaustion didn't come to you in raindrops, it came to you in a torrential shower.
The last thing you felt was Seungmin's arms holding you up as your entire world shrouded in darkness.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
When you came to, you were still in the classroom, water droplets running down your face. Seungmin looked guilty and the bottle of water in his hand told you everything you needed to know.
"Sorry," Seungmin said sheepishly, "I didn't know what else to do."
You waved him off, still trying to fully gain control of your senses. You blinked slowly and languidly, adjusting slowly to the light. The sudden shift from complete darkness to windows that let in natural light was slightly painful.
You placed your palms flat against the floor, where Seungmin had most likely placed you. The cool sting of the marble tiles was a welcoming sensation, the bite of it rebooting your brain. You straightened your skirt but your head was still fucking hurting.
"What exactly happened?" you asked weakly.
You knew that women were often taken advantage of in such situations. You knew you could trust Seungmin with your life though. He would never hurt you in any sense, and the past few weeks only solidified that fact for you. Still, asking was like second nature for you.
"Oh, uhm, you fell and I caught you and somehow managed to lean you against the wall," Seungmin stuttered.
He let out a weary sigh and rubbed his eyes vigorously. It was almost as if he was the one who had just fainted and was sitting on a cold marble floor. The thought made you laugh, but the way your chest constricted in pain when the laugh travelled up your bones made you push it down.
"Let's-" you managed until you let out a sneeze, "Let's get back to work. Hyunjin or Riya must have sent the designs by now."
Seungmin looked at you, appalled. "No. Are you insane? You probably are. I'm taking you back to your dorms and making you something warm to eat, no questions asked."
"Seungmin, you don't have to," you let out, your voice hoarse. But despite your mental and vocal protests, your body couldn't fight it anymore. It was begging, screaming for help and you had ignored it wrong enough."
Seungmin set you a look that could kill and held out his palm. You grabbed onto it, and with his help stood up. You legs were so weak, however, that you fell forward again. The world was spinning and you were falling and falling until you weren't.
The entire time, only one thought rang over and over again in your head, like a sickly song.
Was success, was making the people around you proud, was your hard work really worth this form of self inflicted torture you were putting yourself through?
Seungmin's arms steadied your waist as you arms flew up to his shoulders. You were in close proximity now, close enough that you could see your reflection in his eyes. God, you looked like shit.
The concern in his eyes and the pain you were both mentally and physically going through finally made you snap.
Without warning, tears filled your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks. You were so, so tired. Seungmin didn't say anything, but he understood. Of course he understood. You couldn't deny it any longer. Being compared and set against each other didn't make you two poles on other sides of your respective worlds; in fact, it did the very opposite.
You were so accustomed to the thought of each other, that you had become a reflection of each other. There was no Y/N L/N without Kim Seungmin and no Kim Seungmin without Y/N L/N.
Your lives had become so intricately intertwined that the thought of a world without Seungmin, without the jabs and maddening nicknames, without the warm smiles that were solely reserved for you when somebody made an out of pocket comment at one of your student council meetings, felt impossible.
You felt your arms effortlessly slip down Seungmin's shoulder and around his waist. Your head automatically found a spot on his chest. You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, you knew that you were helpless and vulnerable, but you didn't care.
Seungmin kept you anchored as your mind swam through every dark tunnel that dug itself throughout your life. This time, you weren't frolicking in them. This time, you weren't finding solace in them because of your self proclaimed incompetence.
This time, you were sealing them shut for good and the only reason you could was because you knew Seungmin was there. He was there, he was there, he was there.
When Seungmin lightly placed his chin over your head, you didn't mind being short. His hands soothingly smoothed your hair over and over again as you noiselessly let out all the pent up emotions and feelings that grew into this black hole that was sucking the life out of you.
You stepped back. "I'm sorry," you sobbed.
"It's fine, you're good," he whispered softly.
Holding you forearm gently, he walked you out of the room you both were in and in the direction of your dorm. You furiously rubbed at your cheeks, attempting to lose any indication of you previously pathetic state, but you stopped when a shot of something you hadn't felt in a long time rushed back to you: indifference.
In this moment, you didn't care that the regality with which you held yourself in front of Seungmin  and the world was soiled under your feet.
All you cared about was that you finally had a person who would hold you while you break and pick up the pieces with you when you were ready, mending you and healing and hell, loving you back to a state of somewhat living.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Your hands were shaking so much and your vision was so blurry when you tried to unlock your dorm room door that Seungmin had to ease the key out of your finger. He slid it in and with a click, the door swung upon.
You pulled out strength from the nooks and crannies of your being to actually change into something comfortable. Seungmin surprisingly also had a change of clothes in his bag, until you later remembered that he had baseball matches every Saturday morning at dawn.
You came out of your room wearing cat faced pajamas that were a little big for you but cozy nonetheless. Seungmin looked you up and down with a smirk on his face.
"Shall I call you kitty cat now?" his tone heavy with fake torment and real intention.
There was no way you were getting out of this one.
"Shut up, puppy," you referenced the small puppy face on his t-shirt as you padded towards the bar stools that stood along your kitchen counter.
"Okay, kitty cat," he grinned while you groaned.
In the fifteen minutes Seungmin had spent inside your dorm room, he had located the medicine cabinet and slid a bottle of Tylenol and a spoon. You withered under his expectant stare and duly obliged.
"Fair warning," Seungmin said casually as he took out some instant ramen and a saucepan, "I'm a horrible cook."
You probably would have flipped him off for his easy-going tone while saying that he could food poison you if he wasn't the reason you were in the comfort of your home right now.
"Just don't give me acidity. I would probably die and if I do, best believe I'll come back to haunt your ass," you muttered.
"Relax," Seungmin's tone was slightly offended, "Have faith in me. I can make at least instant ramen."
"If you insist," you sighed.
Seungmin passed the bowl of steaming hot ramen towards you, vapor still rising from it. You blew on it and took a bite, the heat instantly making you feel better. Seungmin sat beside you and began eating as well. You both lunched in silence, only the sounds of your spoons hitting your bowls and the occasional slurp filling the room.
You let out a yawn and Seungmin was quick to tell you that the instructions on the instructions stated that you had to wait an hour before sleeping if you had eaten anything after administering it.
To kill time, you suggested watching something on television. Seungmin joined you on the couch. You wrapped a warm blanket around you while Seungmin shifted through your Netflix catalogue, evidently pleased with your taste in media.
You started speaking, "You know, I was thinking of watching -"
At the same time Seungmin began, "I was actually planning on starting -"
"Three Body Problem," you both finished at the same time.
Reflections, reflections.
Seungmin played the first episode and you both watched in transfixed awe and silence. Seungmin kept checking on you in between though. It was never something major, but small things, like handing you the only pillow on the couch and passing a bottle of water at regular intervals.
"Wow," you said breathlessly as if you yourself were in that setting, "Any theories?"
Seungmin gritted his teeth, "Multiple, actually, but I have read the books and that would be fair, would it kitty cat?"
You pouted at him and he laughed his devious laugh.
"You can go, if you need to," you told Seungmin, "I'll get some rest. Riya will probably be home soon for a few hours."
"No, I'll stay out of the goodness of my heart," Seungmin smirked.
You snorted, "Out of the goodness of your heart, or out of the goodness of wanting to steal something?"
"Maybe I'll take your bunny slippers. They're the only thing worth committing a crime in this dorm for," Seungmin mocked, the slippers you were currently wearing coming I'm intentionally violent contact with his leg.
"Seriously though, thank you for helping me. I wouldn't have expected it from someone who hates me," you said, not thinking much of it.
"I don't hate you," said Seungmin, and your worlds collided to come to a standstill.
Every perception you had for yourself was destroyed with the utterance of four words. I don't hate you. The walls you had built of rivalry and animosity, of surpassing him and opposing him came crashing down and burying you in rubble underneath.
If all you had worked towards was to dismantle the justification of Seungmin's fabricated hatred, and yet he never hated you in the first place, then what was the point? Does that mean that you were never truly doing any of this for yourself, and only because of him?
If he didn't exist, what would you be?
You realized that you were probably reading too much into it and let out a hollow, "I thought you did."
Seungmin shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. I just considered you a worthy opponent that would help me improve myself. If anything, I respect you. In fact, these last few days have led me to see you as a friend."
You realized that it was time you apologized as well. "I'm really sorry too. I shouldn't have treated you so crossly."
Understanding and amusement flooded Seungmin's features. "No, please don't change. Bickering with you is one of the highlights of my day."
A smile tugged at your lips. "Okay, puppy boy. I'll go get some rest. What will you be doing?"
Seungmin winked at you. "Looking for things useful to steal, of course."
You lightly shoved his shoulder and he shook his head, shaking with laughter. Seungmin's hair bounced up and down as he laughed, pitifully, at his own joke.
You went to bed with a reducing migraine, a lighter heart and a new perception of you relationship with Kim Seungmin.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were completely knocked out. When you woke, you felt weirdly feverish. You sighed bitterly, knowing that it would take you time to recover.
You walked out to the living room the check up on Seungmin. The sight which you found before you made you mentally melt into a puddle.
In front of you was a sleeping Kim Seungmin, legs brought to his chest and cheeks puffed out. His chest heaved rhythmically and small puffs of breath escaped his mouth. His hair covered his eyes and he was in the most compact position you had seen. You suppressed a snort.
You knew the kindest thing you could for him was to let him sleep. You knew the kindest thing you could do for yourself was to take pictures for blackmail material. Slipping your phone out of your back pocket, you quickly snapped a picture.
Foolishly, you forgot to turn off the flash and Seungmin stirred in his sleep. He got up with a start and blinked slowly. His eyes found yours and he blinked once more.
Then, with a slow smile, he said, "Hi."
If you thought you were a puddle before, you were now a stream rushing towards the ocean. "Hello."
Seungmin sprang up, "Feeling better?"
"Hm," you responded.
You watched as Seungmin made his way to the kitchen, shuffling with the cups you had inside your mildly messy cupboards. "I'll make coffee. Two sugars right?" he asked matter of factly.
"Yep," you replied in slight surprise, "It's crazy how you still remember. It's been... what, six weeks since your last student council coffee run?"
Seungmin's back was to you, mixing away the milk and coffee granules. "I remember everything about you."
You heart shouldn't have stuttered the way it did, and for once, you didn't try to stop it.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - three months.
"Han Jisung," you yelled into your phone, "I will kill you!"
Static emerged from the other side, but you could still make out Jisung's muffled giggle. "Y/N, bestie, bad bitch, my ride or die, just get cookies."
You hung up the phone call in irritation as Seungmin leaned against the window of the bus stop, observing you with a smile. You shot him a grimace which was poorly disguised as a smile, and he burst out into a fit of laughter.
"Cookies it is I guess," he snickered at your misfortune.
"We're splitting the bill," you announced haughtily, and you both walked side by side to the local grocery store.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The cold air of the grocery store nipped at you, making its under your shirt and through your jeans. You rage towards a particular Han Jisung, however, propelled you towards the baked goods and sweets section. Seungmin tailed behind you, his hand holding on to your jacket sleeve.
The conquest in question was to get one of the people in your grade, Jisung, to help provide entertainment for the school prom. Him and two other seniors who had already passed out, Chan and Changbin, were part of a trio named 3racha. The entire school knew of their laurels; they had been signed to a famous company before even graduating high school.
Jisung told you to meet at their studio after school to discuss prom, assuring you that they would provide music and maybe even dj on the side. Right before you and Seungmin were going to leave however, he had the absolute audacity to tell you that his hyungs needed a lot of convincing.
You scanned all the decorative tin boxes, trying to pick out something cheap that would also suffice for the treacherous endeavor you were about to undertake. Sometime during this process, the familiar tug of Seungmin's hand on your sleeve vanished.
You surveyed the room to find where he was, like a mother looking for her son. When you finally spotted his familiar tuft of hair and tall frame, you let out a slightly fond and extremely exasperated sigh.
While you were actually working, Seungmin was busy waving two cones of ice cream towards you. You grabbed the box of cookies you were eyeing and walked towards him.
"Really, Seungmin?" you dryly questioned.
"I have an unnatural craving for butterscotch. If you don't let me have it, I'll go Edward Cullen on you," he retorted.
You seriously regretted persuading Seungmin into watching Twilight with you. Ever since the little sick spell you had which prompted Seungmin to spend time at your dorm, you both began a mini tradition of watching a movie together once every week.
You would play the movie on your respective laptops and call each other, listening on mute bar the occasional theoretical conversations and joint rants about the main character's absolute stupidity.
It all started when he began pestering you about table colors for the prom banquet ("but I don't see the difference between ivory and off-white!"), but you interrupted by saying that it movie night and that you were rewatching Interstellar. Both your movie preferences and haywire sleep schedules being very similar led to Seungmin asking you if he could watch as well.
The rest, as they say, was history.
You finally relented and you and Seungmin stepped out of the store with a split bill, a box of cookies under your arm and ice creams currently being devoured. You opted for Belgian Chocolate while Seungmin wolfed down butterscotch. You finished your ice creams and tossed your wrappers in the bin outside.
You noticed a spot of ice cream near Seungmin's lip. Without thinking anything of it, you pulled your sleeve and swiped at it, cleaning it in one go. Seungmin glanced at you with a mixture of awe, shock, and something you assumed was adoration.
"It's just ice cream," you mumbled, but the atmosphere of comfort and domesticity hit you just as much as it healed him.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The two of you got on the bus and found two empty seats beside each other. After you vehemently listed the cons of sitting in an aisle seat, Seungmin finally conceded into letting you sit near the window. He didn't do so without insulting your height (again), claiming that since he was tall he would need to stretch his legs, but you wouldn't be having such issues at all.
The bus ride to the 3racha studio would take a good forty five minutes. Not because it was far, per se, but because traffic was a little shit.
You both were on your phones, and you scrolled aimlessly through social media. You let out a groan of annoyance.
"What is it?" asked Seungmin.
"Just Riya and Hyunjin being disgustingly adorable. Go ahead, take pleasure in my despair," you offered, full of snark.
"I mean, if you insist," Seungmin grinned.
Ever since Riya and Hyunjin's dramatic love confession and Victorian romance-esque scenario, you had been third wheeling to the point where you were third wheeling without even being near them. Hyunjin and Riya being in a relationship did make you crave one of your own, but you were kind of to not let an innocent victim (see also: Yang Jeongin) fall captive to the perils of being a third wheel.
You were drifting in and out of reality, immersed in a science fiction eBook loaded onto you phone. Or at least, you were, until animated video game noises came from Seungmin's phone. You peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing, and burst into a fit of stifled laughter.
"How can you be so bad at Fruit Ninja of all games," you giggled.
Seungmin glared at you, "As if you're any better."
"I am, in fact," you snorted, your tone full of invitation and open to challenge.
It took just those four words and the smug expression on your face for Seungmin to quickly switch to multiplayer mode. The two of you vigorously tapped at your screens, slicing watermelons and mangos. Seungmin swiping was so arbitrary that he couldn't even cut through a fruit half the time.
You shoulder was pressed against Seungmin's and your chin hovered over it. You thought you both were being soft enough so as to not disturb anyone, but an old woman sitting in front of you coughed in what you assumed was contempt.
Blood rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment as you and Seungmin both bowed apologetically. You were expecting a lengthy sermon on public discipline, but the old woman broke into a smile instead.
"Always cherish your childhood friendships and childhood loves," she winked at the two of you, "Especially when it seems to be a love as free as the one you both share."
You and Seungmin exchanged confused looks.
"We're not-"
"About that-"
You were tripping over your words, stumbling and falling until Seungmin finally mustered, "We're not dating, or in love or anything."
The woman just laughed in response. She got up from her chair and left with an "If you say so!", leaving both you and Seungmin stunned in her wake. 
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You and Seungmin sat cramped in the 3racha studio couch. You couldn't quite call this room a studio. It was more of a musically inclined man cave.
Jisung, Changbin and Chan sat across from you, their legs ridiculously crossed over the other at the exact same angles. Jisung nibbled on the cookies that you brought. He smiled at another one of your death glares.
Chan clapped his hands together, "You know what? We would love to play at your prom. Changbin and I are alumni and Jisung is bitchless anyways."
Jisung swatted at Chan's arm with his cookie while Changbin swooped in to claim a cookie of his own. Amidst the chaos, you and Seungmin let out a sigh of relief.
"You can send us the transaction details at our email," said Changbin, scribbling it on a notepad. His booming voice made you jump in surprise.
"Cool, we'll do that soon. Before we go, can I use the restroom?" Seungmin inquired.
Chan rattled off the directions to the restroom and Seungmin left with a pat on your head and a "Don't miss me too much, darling."
"We'll get back to work now, Y/N," Chan said kindly.
You shot him a smile which remained on your face until Changbin snickered, "Yeah, Jisung can keep you company."
The two of them went inside their studio booth, erupting with giggles that turned into fake coughs which once again morphed into real coughs. You shot Jisung a quizzical look. "Oh, that's because I used to like you," Jisung said through a mouthful of cookie.
You weren't taken aback, unfazed by his sudden admission. Jisung has had a crush on almost the entire student body, regardless of gender. You would be kidding if you said that you didn't have a soft spot for Jisung though. He was your seatmate in chemistry class (a horrible one at that), but also the reason why you ran for student council president in the first place.
"You would be good at it," he encouraged you, even though you knew his ulterior motives.
You were presently reaching for a cookie when Jisung stated casually, "I didn't know you were dating Seungmin."
You choked on your cookie. "What? We aren't. Why would you think that?"
There was no way in hell you and Seungmin could ever be mixed up for a couple. Yes, your feelings of hatred towards him had considerably dampened, but that didn't mean that you liked liked him. Everything you felt towards him was strictly professional and only had to do with prom planning, as you would regularly reassure yourself.
Jisung shrugged. "The nicknames, the looks you were giving each other. I mean, you both are alike. It wouldn't be that out of the blue of you were."
You responded with a huff of indignation, assuming that this was Jisung's way of asking you if you were single.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
"We are not watching Twilight," you told Seungmin sternly. He pouted at you but you wouldn't budge, not even an inch.
Seungmin and you were back on the bus, the sky painted in beautiful shades of blue. The bus was quiet, you and Seungmin being the only passengers on there. Deciding to kill time because evening traffic would cause the bus to take even longer, Seungmin suggested watching something on his tablet.
"Let's watch the Vampire Diaries instead!" Seungmin said in excitement.
You stared at him, mouth agape. "What is it with you and vampires?"
"It's either that or Mean Girls," Seungmin offered.
You instantly knew what you would watch. Suffering through Seungmin watching Mean Girls and adopting Regina George's personality would be pure agony. There were many things you could tolerate in life, but Seungmin taking up the persona of his favorite characters after watching something knew was not one of them. Knowing Seungmin, you didn't have a shred of doubt that his favorite would be Regina.
"Vampire Diaries it is," you agreed, "But Damone is mine."
Seungmin offered no objection and handed you one side of his wired earphones. You had to sit in extremely close proximity to Seungmin, close enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek. Your head subconsciously dropped on his shoulder, his cheek pressed against your hair.
Seungmin smelled like cinnamon and rain. You wondered what perfume he used, but then realized that it would be pointless since any and all perfume would have worn out by then. After that you began to ponder about what Disney movie he had stepped out of to smell so good and look so good despite spending hours either outside or in a cramped studio.
Finally, your train of thought took a sharp, final turn.
You were comfortable, pressed up against Seungmin and making sarcastic comments every so often. It felt normal, natural even. It struck you that your head fit under Seungmin's chin like a missing puzzle piece.
The pieces of your brain and the pieces of his heart joined together to form a beautiful mosaic of shared chaos and resilience that was unique only to the odd relationship you both shared.
Maybe it wasn't so absurd that two people had assumed that you both were in a relationship. Maybe you didn't want it to be so absurd. Maybe you wanted it to be something that wouldn't cause you and Seungmin to dismiss with hurried explanations and laughs full of ridicule.
That was enough thinking for today.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
[10:17 PM]
puppy boy: i have come here to tell you that i am willing to risk our friendship
[10:18 PM]
You: /what/ friendship?
[10:18 PM]
puppy boy: fine, i'm willing to risk out not friendship for claiming damone salvatore
puppy boy: talk to hand if you have any arguments
puppy boy: ✋🏻
[10:19 PM]
You: lmao not you acting like damone would choose *you* over *me*
[10:19 PM]
puppy boy: ...
puppy boy: ok well i can't rly argue with that
puppy boy: if i was damone, i would choose you in a heartbeat
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - two months and twenty six days.
The most fascinating thing that you had studied about in your astronomy class were binary stars. They were the most common multi star system, found regularly in pockets of the universe. They were immensely important, aiding in the calculation of things like mass of celestial bodies.
But one could not exist without the other.
A binary star was useless without it's counterpart, just another ball of glowing gas drifting about in the universe. You reckoned that humans also had their version of binary stars, people whose lives were so intertwined with each other that having one without the other stripped both entities of their meaning.
In astronomy, they were called binary stars. On earth, they were called soulmates.
That was what you and Seungmin were, stars that shone brightly in your shared skies but instead of dimming the other, only amplified it. You both were natural satellites, celestial bodies gravitating into each other's pull like a two magnets.
Seungmin drew you in like nobody else did, and you were tired of repelling it. If the earth had reversed it's poles so many times in the past, then in the grand scheme of things, you reversing your perception of Seungmin should have been nothing that would warrant a big deal.
But to you, this was your entire perception of a black and white reality being ripped away and slowly rebuilt in color.
Considering that the person behind all of it was Seungmin, these colors were more often than not so vivid and vibrant that it left you craving more of what life could be like if he would be there mending every crack in your universe.
It left you craving more of what life could be like if the term my universe in your dictionary changed to our universe.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You and Seungmin were sitting together in the library. Well, less sitting together and more having a habit of happening to be there at the same time (which was almost all the time). This caused you both to strike up a habit of unknowingly taking a seat beside the other person.
Seungmin was leafing through a book while you silently observed him. "What is it?" he piped up, his eyes never leaving his book, "What do you want to ask me?"
You placed a finger between the pages of the book you were reading and shrugged. "Nothing much, really. How did you know I was wondering about something anyways?"
He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. "I just know. Now, what is it?"
His impatient gaze and curious eyes tempted you into telling him what was making rounds in your head. You found yourself thinking for the umpteenth time how his hair fell into his face so perfectly, making him a vision that seemed like a painting encased in a Parisian museum.
"Your eyes," you whispered, your tone so imperceptible that a another human being would have barely heard you.
Seungmin always heard your voice, though.
"What about them?" he chuckled.
You titled your head to the side, wondering if you yourself were imagining all of this. "Did you know your eyes change color when you look at me?"
It was true, at least to you. You noticed that whenever Seungmin's gaze caught onto yours, his eyes darkened. Not in the terrifying way often associated with bloodlust, but in the puzzled way that made you feel like he was trying to figure you out, just as you were trying to figure yourself out.
"It's just a telling sign for my animosity towards you," taunted Seungmin, attempting to ignite a fiery response out of you.
It somewhat mildly worked.
"Oh yeah," you gasped, "Ello will be troubled to know that her parents are fighting.
"Hm," contemplated Seungmin, "Who's gonna be the one to tell her that she's a child of divorce?"
Seungmin's comment caught you off guard. Child of divorce? It was so out of pocket that even the tantalizing curve of your lips that had been making you feel unnatural things as of late couldn't distract you.
"We aren't even married, Seungmin," you pointed out.
In response, Seungmin put his book down on the table in front of him. He placed his elbow on the aforementioned table and smoothly removed one of the two rings that he was always wearing: the smaller moon ring to his larger sun ring, you noticed.
He motioned for your hand and in one gesture, slid the moon ring onto your ring finger. "There," he declared proudly, "Now we're married."
He seemed so casual, so unfazed about it, that it enraged you.
Did he not just feel like an entire carton box of fireworks had gone off in an empty parking lot that was his stomach? Did he not get his breath taken away from a gesture that was so simple that a passerby wouldn't even have batted an eye at it? Did he not feel perplexed, terrified and astonished that such a feeling was even possible?
Because you did.
You felt like your world was tilting on it's axis and you couldn't keep letting the lava simmer under the surface anymore.
It felt like the entire universe was in your grasp, like electricity crackled at your fingertips. You felt euphoric, your brain buzzing and mind spinning.
You felt like someone shattered the vase of feelings that contained all you had ever experienced and glued it back together with gold in its cracks. You felt like someone placed rose-tinted sunglasses on your eyes and that you never wanted to go back to normal vision after gaining a taste of what this felt like.
You knew that what you felt was, according to the countless books and movies you had watched, a horrible illness that constituted a crush. But you didn't know that it felt so good? Even more frighteningly so, you didn't know when you stopped seeing Seungmin as a rival and as a friend.
You frighteningly didn't know when you started seeing Seungmin as someone you were capable of loving until you did and it scared you to death concretely only knowing that your brain provided not a single fucking objection to this flurry of feelings.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - two months.
In the time that you had come to the realization that you had feelings for Seungmin, and all the moments post that day, you were in a tumultuous state of mind.
You hadn't told anyone about your feelings, because you weren't sure if they were genuine or if they were a product of you romanticizing the entire atmosphere surrounding you.
You would be so cruel to Seungmin before a few months ago, so neglectful of his feelings that you thought it was foolish to think that he would ever like. It baffled you that he even saw you as a friend; hoping that he would see you as a lover would be akin to grasping for non-existent straws.
You should have told Hyunjin, who viewed love so beautifully that you envied him for it. You should have talked to Jeongin, who didn't see love as poetically as Hyunjin, but had so much of it to spare and never seemed to run out. But you didn't.
Instead, you chose to exist in torturous turmoil, over thinking each and every shared moment you had with Seungmin. If this was what experiencing supposedly unrequited like was going to be for the rest of your life, you sincerely hoped you never went through the pain of it again.
If this was what experiencing supposedly unrequited like was going to be for the rest of your life, you sincerely hoped it didn't become unrequited love.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
"And we'll have to meet Felix for his cousin, you know, Lee Minho, who said he'll be open to catering for prom," you finished with an air of finality.
Seungmin bobbed his head in agreement and walked with you towards you locker. He stepped normally, slowing down to keep pace with you. You felt like your legs were lead.
Being near Seungmin made you simultaneously want to combust and make you want to fly.
You reached for you locker and twisted the knob according to your combination, as you did almost everyday. This was like second nature to you, so when you opened you locker, put your books inside and turned around with the intention of facing Seungmin, you certainly weren't expecting what you were met with instead.
Renjun, one of the students of your grade, stood facing you with a bouquet. You had spoken with Renjun a few times at most, striking up conversation very rarely. You had no idea what warranted him looking at you earnestly, hoping that he was waiting for someone else.
Of course you were wrong.
"Hey Y/N, um... I have liked you for a very long time and I wanted to ask if you would go to prom with me," Renjun stuttered.
To say you were in shock was an understatement. Dating was the furthest thing from your mind, regardless of whether or not you had feelings for anyone, Seungmin included. While you did feel a surge of ego at being asked out for prom, you weren't in any way, shape, or form, expecting it.
This also meant that you weren't prepared for what you were going to do if you wanted to accept a promposal, which in turn meant you had even less of an idea of what to do if your intention was to reject a promposal.
You instantly felt pity on him and remorseful for what you were about to do.
"Oh Renjun, I'm really sorry but I barely know you. On top of that, I'll be really busy with student council and just be the reason your night to be ruined," you told him softly.
Renjun looked at you crestfallen. "Oh yeah, no, you're right. I'm sorry for bothering you. Can we grab coffee sometime though?"
Before you could respond, Seungmin interjected. "Yes, yes, that's all nice but we have to go. People to see, places to be. Just text her when and where."
With that, Seungmin dragged you away. You wanted to protest but were internally cartwheeling instead.
It was probably your imagination, probably caffeinated emotions, but you thought you saw a flash of jealousy in Seungmin's charming eyes.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
"What was that about?" you snorted.
"That was me having to be inconvenienced because my partner doesn't know how to respond when a guy asks her out," Seungmin snapped.
Not friend. No colleague or co-president. Not even your name. But partner.
You weren't sure how to feel about that.
"Why do you hate prom so much Seungmin?" you sighed, changing the topic.
Seungmin shrugged in response but you pressed on. "It's okay puppy. No matter how embarrassing, I won't judge."
You crossed your fingers over your heart, but Seungmin just looked at you with melancholy in his eyes. Your teasing smile fell.
"It's a long story," Seungmin said. His hands were in his pocket and he was kicking at a rock on the pavement.
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," you told him, your voice full of guilt for asking.
"No, I will," he responded, "You deserve that much."
Seungmin finally began, "You know how I have an older sister, right? She's in college right now, but back when she was in high school, she was really smart. Smarter then me smart. I know right. Crazy? Anyways, she was very much type casted as a nerd and even though she was well liked, nobody wanted to date her. That was, until, prom came around. A guy asked her out and she was over the moon."
You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, knowing where this was about to go.
"She wasn't even romantically interested in him, but was so excited that someone had for once, shown some interest towards her that she instantly said yes. I still remember how she wouldn't stop talking about it. She got ready, buying her own dress and everything, using money from her part time job that she was saving for university. She looked ethereal that night. I still remember all of it, even if it was five years ago. But she was stood up. Turns out the entire was a dare, a sick joke. Her final straw was when she saw the guy who asked her out walk into the prom venue with another girl on his arm."
Your heart broke for Seungmin's sister. You couldn't even imagine how it must have felt. Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, however, Seungmin opened his mouth once again.
He continues bitterly, "She was so heartbroken that she went to one of those afterparties, that's basically a rave. She drank so much alcohol that it got to the point where she was passed out on someone's hospital. We had to rush her to the hospital and get all of it pumped out. It felt so painful, being thirteen and watching my sister just suffer in pure agony."
Seungmin's voice broke, "She almost died last night, physically. But mentally, she was wrecked. It was on her hospital records, this incident. None of the Ivies, or any university even remotely good accepted her. She finally got into Stanford, but that was after writing several scholarship tests and paying a hefty fee. She's never really been the same since."
When Seungmin's sermon came to an end, you felt his hurt ten times over. Tears glistened in his eyes and without warning, you pulled him in for a hug. You felt Seungmin let out a shaky breath and held him close.
"Your hair smells like strawberries. It's highly concerning. Fruit based shampoos are dumb," he mumbled into your hair.
"Shut up and stop ruining the moment or else I'll let go," you warned.
In response, Seungmin just held you tighter. When he let go, he swiped at his eyes and gave you a grateful smile. "Sorry. And thank you," he told you with a tight smile.
You just nodded in response. "Hey, I understand why you hate prom. I can take over for you on the actual night," you offered with a squeeze of his hand."
Seungmin shook his head in response, "No, I'll be there. It wouldn't be fair to all of you if I wasn't. But you should go with Renjun. Being tethered to someone who has an outlook like me would just make the night boring as hell for you."
The possibility of going to prom with Renjun when Seungmin was right there was something you found utterly ridiculous. It made no sense, no sense at all to go with someone you had no feelings for. Going to prom with Renjun would hurt both him and you.
Seungmin's glazed expression sent an arrow straight into your heart, piercing and deafening. You refused to let him drown in sorrow. "Absolutely not, Kim Seungmin. If I said you're coming to prom with me, you're coming to prom with me."
You didn't allow any room for further argument, shutting Seungmin up with a defiant stare. You wanted Seungmin to enjoy prom, you truly did. But you knew that this wasn't the complete truth. You had a much more selfish, concealed motive.
You were going to make Kim Seungmin fall in love with prom, while falling in love with you as well.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - one month and three days.
[9:06 PM]
You: oi seungmin
You: we still meeting up at the library to wrap up all the finally details?
[9:07 PM]
seungmine (hopefully someday): Yep.
You could somehow tell that something was bothering Seungmin, just by reading that last text. You caught your lip between your teeth as you got ready to go to the library, his dry tone throwing you off. Seungmin was pretty much a dry texter, but always followed it up with something absurd. Today however, he didn't. Hell, he even used proper punctuation.
The entirety of the mini 'meeting' that you had consisted of only you talking and Seungmin responding with one or two words. If you were lucky, he would look your way, but your luck mostly fell short.
You snapped your binder shut and asked, "Everything good?"
Seungmin just blinked in response, the boredom and sense of being done evident in his eyes. He didn't reply and instead proceeded to swing his bag around his shoulder and stand up.
You tried once again. "I was going to go shopping for prom dresses. Do you want to match colors? Let me know what you plan on wearing."
Seungmin spared you a half glance. "Yeah sure, wear whatever. I don't really care."
You felt tears prick in his eyes. How could he just not care? You were willing to give up fun and sacrifice romance so that Seungmin could have someone to spend time with. You were doing all this and for what? Being told that he didn't care?
You felt so heavy that you spit out, "You know what? Fine. I wanted to go to prom with you so that you would have someone to be with. I knew, I knew that we would have to be stuck together all night, socializing and making sure nobody burns the school down or spikes the punch bowl. But that doesn't mean that I don't want prom to feel authentic, to go as a normal teenager."
You continued, "I'm not even asking you for the grand promposal that I have been dreaming about since I was nine. I'm just asking you to do the bare minimum, if not as my prom date, which you agreed to might I add, but at least as the person who I share the title of co-president with. You cannot keep disregarding my feelings Seungmin. I'm sick and tired of it. I understand that you hate prom but it's you who keeps insisting on coming, it's you who keeps saying that it won't be fair if you aren't there which is ironic, because you most definitely aren't being fair right now."
Seungmin stared at you, jaw slightly hung open, but the fire inside you kept raging.
"I know you don't see me as a date and that's fine but at least show me some modicum of respect. You didn't even let me complete my question; it wasn't me asking about matching prom attire. It was Principal Kim who suggested asking you about it. And you know that a suggestion from her is nothing short of law."
The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill out now as you mentally cursed yourself for ever even thinking that you could have feelings for someone like him.
"So, Kim Seungmin, if you don't want to go prom, or if you want to be a whiny little bitch about it, it's fine with me. Text me if you're going. If you won't, I'll just assume you aren't. You can do whatever the fuck you want because I'm sick for pitying you when you clearly aren't deserving of it. Go ahead and fucking ruin prom for yourself, but don't you dare tarnish the experience for me."
Before Seungmin could even anything, you grabbed your backpack and walked away, blinking back tears as you thought about how cold and lonely prom would be without anybody by your side to spend the night with. Hyunjin had Riya. Jeongin had a roster of senior girls willing to go out with him.
But you? At the end of the day, every single day, you were all alone. You let your intrusive thoughts in, swirling in your head and nearly paralyzing your capacity to think.
What if the reason why you were alone was all your fault? What if you were too pushy, too rude for your own good? None of that mattered, though, because thinking about the situation never changed the situation.
You would be alone, no matter how hard you tried otherwise, and that was the bitter truth you had to learn to live with.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
[5:28 PM]
Kim Seungmin: i am so sorry y/n
Kim Seungmin: please answer my calls
[6:36 PM]
You: I have sent the details regarding the electronic equipment.
You: Make sure to contact them.
[6:36 PM]
Kim Seungmin: please let me make it up to you.
Kim Seungmin: please.
[7:05 PM]
You: Let me know once you contact them.
You: Don't bother texting me otherwise.
You: My phone will be on dnd since I'm going out.
You: Call me only if it's urgent. I think you should be more than capable of handling the situation now, but just in case. Don't expect me to respond to you about anything else.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You were avoiding Seungmin as if he carried a deadly virus. You dodged him in hallways and expertly deflected any and all of his attempts to talk to you. The one place you couldn't avoid where you knew he would be, however, was the library.
You needed to return one of your library books. Today was the last day and not doing so would led to you paying a fine. You couldn't afford a payable fees right now, since most of the savings from your part time job and the money your parents would regularly send you would be going towards buying your prom gown.
Okay, fine. Maybe you wanted to give Seungmin a chance to properly apologize. But that's absurd and not important right now.
Your headphones were jammed in your ears, music pounding through them while you walked in its direction. People thought that you had an affinity for listening to classical music since you came under the categorization of an 'over-achieving nerd.'
You knew that society also known as your school, would break out into scandal if they ever found out that Kendrick Lamar was your top artist on Spotify.
That thought brought you back to Seungmin, as you giggled at the memory of his confusion while you were explaining the entire Drake and Kendrick beef to him. His nose was scrunched up and his eyes were squinted, listening to you as if you were preaching about the secrets of life and the universe, not ranting about rap music.
Oh wait. You were supposed to hate Seungmin. Not giggle at the memories of the time you spent together like a middle aged woman recounting her college days.
When you got to the library, you placed your bag on Mrs. Kang's table and took out the book you were supposed to return.
You handed it to her with a strained smile. "Hey, I am on time though, aren't I Mrs. Kang? Plus, this is just a first time offence. I'm sure you can let it slide."
Mrs. Kang raised her eyebrow. "Fine, just this once," she slid the book underneath the scanner and mentioned, "Oh, you should go check out the Romantic Literature section; we finally got sent The Vicar of Wakefield."
You looked at her, puzzled. You were never really interested in works that emerged during the age of early eighteenth century Romanticism. She must have mixed you up with somebody else, but you began to walk towards the shelves anyways. If anything would help lighten your spirits, it would be re-reading Pride and Prejudice.
When you got there however, the most unexpected sight awaited you.
Your eyes drank in the sight of Seungmin, standing wearing a varsity jacket, white t-shirt and jeans. Dried rose petals littered the length of the aisle. Seungmin was holding up an open book with it's pages folded to form the word 'Prom?'
As much as you hated to admit it, the sight took your breath away.
Seungmin cocked his head to the side. "I had to bribe her with my limited edition copy of Frankenstein."
"What- what is this?" you asked, your brain still numb from shock.
Seungmin bit his lip and looked at you. "This is me apologizing. You were right. I completely sidelined you when I shouldn't have. I truly respect and admire you and feel horrible that I made you feel like this. And I figured, that I should ask you to prom the way you deserve: with all the grandeur in the world."
His apology was one that you could have never imagined being the recipient of. Even fiction didn't predict something as thoughtful as this. Seungmin preparing an entire promposal for you, over just a hissy fit, was enough to thaw your temporarily frozen heart.
You looked at him open-mouthed. "But I thought you didn't even like me that way."
Despite how hard he tried to contain it, tones of mischief slipped through Seungmin's voice. "Would it be so bad if I did?"
What? This couldn't be real. This was most definitely not happening. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming, because never in your wildest dreams would such a scene have ever taken place.
Seungmin must have somehow read your mind because he quickly stuttered, "Not that I do. I mean I like you. But not in that way. Like, I asked you since we have to spend the entire night together anyways. I'm sorry for making this weird."
You let out an exhale, chiding yourself for being so gullible. It was just Seungmin being Seungmin. You spared a glance at his eyes, full of anticipation. You wanted to say no. If you didn't, you knew you would be in too deep.
You took a step forward to refuse his request when your eyes fell on his hand. The sight awaiting you knocked the wind out of your body.
You already noticed Seungmin's baggy eyes, attributing it to lack of sleep because he was busy doing whatever guys do. But his hands told the other half of the story.
They were adorned with paper cuts. Small scars like moons were imprinted on him in various stages of healing. One even had a bit of blood on it.
"Uh, yeah," said Seungmin, noticing your eyes drift down, "I spent all night making it. Let's just say that I'm really bad with paper and folding in any context and leave it at that."
"Seungmin," you whispered, your eyes tearing up. He offered you a tight smile.
"I should go. This was weird. I'm sorry."
"Wait!" you said in a tone that startled him, "I'll go. I'll go to prom with you. Officially."
Seungmin's eyes reflected a question of whether you were doing this genuinely. You hoped that your eyes reflected that you were. Seungmin may not ever come to like you romantically, in any sense. But you were happy with what you were being offered.
You were happy that Seungmin was the first person you thought yourself to have the potential to love.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - shit, it's prom!
You couldn't sleep all night.
The frenzied prolepsis that clouded your mind refused to escape. 'What if's?' and 'Should have's?' regarding the event clouded your head. You thought that you would feel more nervous about your experience at prom, but it was all the planning that got to your head.
If you were a wreck, however, then Seungmin was a fucking natural disaster.
He texted you without pause, your phone blowing up so much that even Riya had to ask you if everything was okay. His chats varied, from long rants about how Die Hard is not a Christmas movie, despite Felix's apparent protests, and immense worry about how prom would turn out.
You didn't blame him. You were just as anxious as him, even if you weren't as vocal about it. This mammoth event was like yours's and Seungmin's baby. You were so concentrated on making sure that everything went according to plan, that the idea of you going to prom with Seungmin was pushed to the dark and dusty corner of your brain.
"You have been texting Seungmin a lot lately," teased Riya as she curled her hair.
"Shut up," you told her smoothly, already armed with blackmail material, "Or else I will smack you and tell Hyunjin about your Shah Rukh Khan shrine."
She effortlessly shut up.
You ran from one room to the other, your dorm house common room and back, pacing and placing calls and confirming and reminding people of what had to be done. You were in such a rush that you hadn't even started to get ready.
In your panicked chaos, you slammed into an already ready Felix. His white suit was immaculate, small roses embroidered on the sides. His blond hair was tousled and his easy smile gave you a bit of reassurance amidst the hectic situations you were constantly throwing yourself in.
"Felix! What are you doing here? You look amazing, by the way." You pulled him in for a quick hug, distracted by a call you had to make.
"I'm here to pick up my date, Jeongin," Felix smirked.
You let out a cough. "What?"
Felix laughed. "I didn't have a date and thought that he deserves to come since he has helped so much. So, I offered him my plus one ticket."
Ah, that made sense. You wondered why Jeongin didn't go with one of the senior girls on his roster of ladies in waiting. Then you remembered that he thought of himself as some sort of a chivalrous gentleman.
"Why haven't you gotten ready yet?" Felix questioned.
"Oh, I was just-," you began, before Felix sternly interrupted you.
"Don't you dare say you were wrapping things up. You and I both know that your definition of wrapping things up is frantically quadruple checking everything," Felix scolded, "You will stop worrying and get ready."
You just sighed in response, "I wish I could but-"
"No buts," he said, his eyes softening. "This night is yours as much as everybody else's. If anything, it's mostly yours."
Before you could sweetly respond to Felix with a resounding refusal, Jisung, per usual, appeared out of thin hair. His suit coat looked a little small and you vaguely remembered yearbook pictures of Chan during his prom, wearing almost the exact same suit coat, minus the little hand stitched lightening bolt on the side pocket.
"This," Jisung motioned towards you with a flourish of his right hand, "Is unacceptable."
Felix promptly agreed. You flashed him a withering glare and he slightly wavered, but it was of no use. You had lost the battle before it had even begun.
Twenty minutes later, you, Jisung and Felix were in your dorm room. No matter your protests, they insisted on helping you get ready for prom night. The two of them did your hair and makeup while you pondered on how you couldn't do it yourself half as good as they did.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
When they were done, you gasped in surprise. They made you look a beautiful you thought you weren't capable of outwardly being.
Your dress in itself was majestic, at least in your eyes. It didn't exactly fit the theme, but the moment you saw it, you knew you needed to have it. It marveled you to no end about how someone could leave something that looked so incredible in a small thrift store next to the coffee shop you frequented.
The dress was silver, shimmering in a shade of what you only knew to be 'almost white' when light struck it. The bodice was in the shape of fairy wings, the sides laced crisscrossed and showing the smallest bit of skin. The back was covered, and the dress flowed down to reach your feet like a cascading waterfall. It was sleeveless, and so you wore long, winding silver bracelets on each hand.
Your make was done almost professionally by Felix. He used a colour pallet of silvery white, not exaggerating your make up. He brushed your hair calmly and tied two strands of it in a braid, pull them back to make a sort of halo. Felix clipped butterflies into your hair and made you feel like a mythical creature stepping out from a fantasy novel. Narnia, maybe.
Jisung on the other hand, provided food, gossip and entertainment. You would never reveal this to him, but you found that very vital to the process of getting ready as well.
"You are so good at this," you gushed at Felix.
He looked at you calmly. "I have two sisters, and I'm the middle kid. As a consequence, I was often my older sister's model for all things fashion and my younger sister's personal stylist."
Jisung munched on a piece of cake which you had no idea was even there in your kitchen. He sat on a barstool and clapped when you came out and gave him a spin. His feet rocked back and forth while he cheered you on.
"See," he said to Felix pointedly. "I am a better wingman than you."
Felix looked immeasurably hurt. "Not as good as me though. You didn't even help me!"
"I did, didn't I?" Jisung looked at you with those boba eyes that you found extremely hard to resist.
In response, you ushered them both out of the house in order to not get pulled into conflict and be the cause of an unsatisfactory prom night. Plus, you wanted to get there early and check on the venue.
Well, that and also to (mostly), see Seungmin.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You spotted him before he could see you.
Seungmin looked ethereal in his silver suit, his hair swept to the side and hands in his pockets as he engaged in easy conversation with one of the teachers.
He looked like a song you could listen to for the rest of your life until you were maddened by it but never turn it off. He looked like a painting that you could stare at as it dried, like a work of art you spend countless hours and dollars just to catch a glimpse.
And, he matched with you.
When you mentioned to him in passing that your prom dress was silver in colour, you hadn't actually expected him to wear something of a similar, much less the same colour. And yet he did, and you went down a spiral of feelings once again.
Seungmin's eyes must have found you because he sauntered over to you like a man with a purpose.
"You look beautiful," he whispered in awe, "But then again, you do everyday."
You blushed, hoping that the shitty lighting would hide it. "You look incredible yourself Seungmin," you said lightly, "And you somehow look good everyday, despite only running off of caffeine and spite.
Seungmin threw his head back an infectious laughter that had caused you to laugh as well. Someone called his name from the background in the middle of your laughter. Another louder, more insistent call of his name floated towards your general direction. Seungmin dipped his head in apology and walked away.
He had told you that you look beautiful. Not your dress, not your make up, not your hair. Not the meaningless, material attire that clung onto you like tinsel on a Christmas. But he said that you, you, look beautiful.
Seungmin wasn't looking you up and down when he said so, like men in the movies did. He didn't look like he was trying to memorize your body, memorize the dips and curves where he could place his hand and mold his being into yours.
No, he looked you in the eye when he said at, as if he didn't believe that it was the clothes that made you look beautiful. He looked you in the eye as if everything that made you, well, you was what made you so beautiful in his sight.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You stood in a moment of peace, finally standing still since reaching the venue.
The moment you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, however, a guttural screech and the sound of howling teenage boys flooded your ears. Sighing in irritation, you opened one eye to asses the situation. Deciding that it warranted you opening the other eye as well, you walked over to the culprits and sternly told them off.
You probably jinxed any peace that would possibly be coming your way by stealing away those five minutes for yourself.
Bad karma, bad decisions.
Seungmin was watching the entire altercation with a faint smirk. He walked over to you and tapped you on the shoulder. You didn't know it was him, and were about to tell him off as well until his familiar scent reached you.
You glared at the gaggle of seniors who has no right to be called seniors and turned to Seungmin.
"May I please have this dance?" he asked with a smirk.
You raised an eyebrow at him and placed your hand in his. "The theme is Aphrodite's Garden, not 18th century Regency era Bridgerton," you quipped.
Seungmin was subject to torture at your hands, also known as, watching Bridgerton with you. He would never admit it, but you knew he liked it. In fact, he may have even enjoyed it more than you. Either that, or you were hallucinating him being on his Simone Ashley Twitter fan account.
Your arms went around his neck as Seungmin guided you to the dancefloor. "I can't really dance," you murmured, the close contact between you both making your head go haywire.
"Neither do I," he winked.
Seungmin's eyes bored into yours and you licked your lips self-consciously. Considering you incredible luck, the song was slow and sensual. Considering your incredible luck, less than twenty seconds into the song playing, a loud crashing sound was heard in the background.
You prayed to God to help salvage prom, and no, that god was not Taylor Swift.
"I'll handle it," Seungmin reassured you.
"I'm a big girl," you bristled, "I can handle it as well."
"I know you are," Seungmin mused, "But I also know you well enough to know that those heels are absolutely killing you right now."
You pressed your lips in a thin line. No matter your feelings for Kim Seungmin, you still hated when he was right. You flashed him the tiniest smile in a way of saying 'thank you', since you were too proud to actually do it. He took it in stride and went away to handle whatever it was that needed handling at the moment.
He left you alone with your thoughts if such situations weren't confined so momentarily and were instead something you could enjoy for eternity.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You decided to step out of the venue for a bit, to finally clear you head. The atmosphere of prom buzzed with electricity and it wasn't the good, energetic kind; it was more of the kind that made your hair frizz.
You were standing, staring at the stars when you felt the air shift beside you. You knew who it was even without sparing a glance at them.
"The stars are beautiful tonight," you whispered to him.
"They are, but I have seen sights today that even rival them," Seungmin said. His voice was missing his trademark sass.
Your heart thumped incessantly as you asked, "Trying out cheesy pick up lines on me now, are we?"
Seungmin laughed, "Now would that be so bad?"
You both stood in silence. You bent down, opened your heels and set them to the side. You felt Seungmin looking at you, but you kept looking at the sky.
The sky, which was ever changing, yet reflected the same shades everyday. The sky, that served as a medium of rain and thunder, sunlight and rainbows. The sky, that was always there in you life, unwavering and never faltering.
Sky, which was coincidentally Seungmin's English name. It suited him.
"I really like the constellation of Orion," you told him with a sideways glance.
"I know. I remember."
"How? I mean, how do you remember all this?"
"I remember everything you tell me," Seungmin repeated, like he did all those months ago.
"Why?" you asked. You asked because you wanted to know, needed to know and repent your mistake of not asking earlier.
Seungmin turned to face you. His eyes held no glint of mischief, no edge accompanied by teasing. Instead, you felt locked in his gaze. It was the kind of intense stare that made you think that he was about to spill all his sins at your feet, right here, right now.
"I remember everything because it's you who says it. I used to remember because I wanted to beat you, be better than you. Then I started to remember as a habit, noticing the smallest quirks about you. Now I remember because I want to be there for you, to help you."
This wasn't happening. This wasn't real. But how much longer would you say that to yourself until you were imbibed with it?
"There is an ugly mix of feelings inside me regarding you, Y/N. They went initially from animosity, to something akin to friendship, to now, the desire for something with you that's more than just platonic."
He gulped. You swallowed. Silence.
"I am drawn to you, Y/N L/N. From the moment I have met you, it has felt like my life is irreversibly tangled with yours. I am propelled towards like it's pre-destined, and I always have. There are times where I feel like I cannot exist if you do not exist. And I'm tired of brushing these feelings aside, acting like they're non-existent."
"I like you, and not telling you has quite nearly driven me to the brink of insanity. It's alright, if you don't feel the same, but please don't walk away without an answer for me."
His gaze averted yours when he finally finished. You looked at him in awe, unable to express how you felt his brilliance radiate off him when he perfectly articulated all the feelings that restlessly capsized land in the empty spaces of your mind.
"For someone really smart, Kim," you breathed, "You are extremely stupid."
"You mean..." Seungmin's voice trailed off. Now it was his turn to look at you in awe.
"I have the feeling that you're trying not to kiss me, and I give you permission to just do it," you announced.
Seungmin gave you a wild smile before his lips swooped in to meet yours. They tasted like fruit punch and chocolate cake, like promises and forever.
You might have been imagining it, but for one cosmic moment, it felt like the stars were shining brighter than the usually did. Two binary stars had finally found each other, finally made their way into each other's orbits, never to stray again.
His lips left yours with a small gasp. "That was my first kiss," you mumbled sheepishly.
Seungmin fiddled with the flaps of his suit coat nervously. He started babbling, "Really? This was, I think, my third. Once at camp and once last year but that was just spin the bottle-"
You cut him off with a smirk. "Let's make it a fourth time, shall we?" and you promptly shut him up by placing your lips on his.
You weren't jealous of the other people Seungmin had kissed. God knows how awful this entire experience would have been if you both were going into it as novices. If anything, you were glad you were the third person he was kissing, because in that celestial moment, you made a vow.
You may not be the first person Seungmin had kissed, but you would make damn well sure to be the last.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
t - girl, it's the epilogue!
Seungmin yawned and wrapped his arm around your waist, practically caging you to the bed. He let out whine when you tried to get out of his grasp and just pulled you closer. You poked him in the side until he yelped.
"Kim Seungmin, you are not skipping work today. I know this display of affections is just so that I concede and let you stay home for cuddles," you told him sternly.
"But it worked last time. And the time before that. And the time before-"
"Well, it won't work this time," you announced with an air of finality.
If anything, being in a relationship with Seungmin only increased the penchant for banter you both had. You both rarely disagreed on things, but went back and forth for fun anyways. You knew your boundaries and never crossed them, but argued like cats and dogs nonetheless.
Well, you called it arguing. Seungmin called it flirting.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You both finally pulled up at Seungmin's workplace and you snorted when you saw the building gates. Seungmin drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and looked at you with a smile that you gave back. It was his first day on the job as Principal.
It had been ten years since you stepped foot on the campus of Park Academy.
"The legacy of Principal Kims continues," you giggled, proud of yourself for making that joke.
"That's because Kims are superior," Seungmin declared.
"That is literally so offensive," you flicked him arm lightly.
Seungmin's eyes met yours and a familiar look in it made you outwardly dread and inwardly prepare to rebut whatever he was going to tell you.
"You shouldn't say that," he snickered, "Considering that you'll be an honorary Kim yourself soon."
Oh. Oh.
It would be a week until students started coming to campus, there classes yet to start. When Seungmin mentioned this to you, you asked if you could come along to see the campus once. The campus where you fell in love with him.
"You might be a hot shot CEO," Seungmin relentlessly teased, "But it's good to go back to your roots sometimes."
It was ironic how you called his mother more than he did.
Your feet subconsciously guided you to the library. You loved this library. It was the place where you spent some of the best moments of your life. This was where you slowly fell in love with Seungmin, uncovering him layer by layer until you could call him yours.
You felt a laugh bubble up your throat when you made your way to the Romantic Literature section. Seungmin gave you a poor attempt at a smile as he observed you. In fact, he looked extremely nervous, a sharp juxtaposition to the flirty demeanor of his just a few minutes ago.
You could count on one hand the amount of times you had seen Seungmin being nervous.
It must have been anxiety surrounding the promotion. You reached over to squeeze his hand and give him a reassuring pat. Once you were sure that he would be fine, you turned back to prodding at the books shelved on the wall as if they were part of some lab experiment.
Once you were satisfied, you turned to give Seungmin the signal to go, when you stumbled backwards at what was in front of you.
Seungmin stood down on one knee, a box in his hand, with the most beautiful ring you had ever seen inside it.
"What?" you asked, your voice shaky. Tears instantly began to spring up in your eyes.
This wasn't real. This wasn't happening. But it was. The man you had loved for a decade was here, in front of you, wordlessly asking to turn those ten years into the rest of a shared forever.
"I had a really dramatic speech planned," he rambled, "But I forgot since I'm kind of terrified and you do always tell me to speak from my heart so here goes nothing."
"I have probably mentioned this thousands of times, but I have felt a magnetic pull towards you since the moment I first interacted with you. I didn't know what it would turn into then, but I knew it was going to be something, and I have been eternally grateful that it was love."
"To put it simply: every single infinitesimal particle that makes me in hopelessly in love with every infinitesimal particle that makes you. I love you, so, so much. I have been yearning for a forever with you before I even knew it so; will you marry me?"
He stopped with a sniff and swiped the sleeve of his sweater across his eyes. "Shit, I wasn't supposed to cry."
It all came full circle, didn't it? Ten years ago, he asked you to prom. Ten years later, he offered you eternity.
You let out a laugh and threw yourself at him, peppering him with kisses. "And you said you didn't want to come to work today," you laughed in between your cuddle attack.
"So, this means yes?"
You face palmed. "This means yes, Seungmin. Yes, I will marry you. In every universe, I know that I will spend the rest of my life with you."
Seungmin gathered you in his arms and kissed you like he was burning and you were oxygen. Binary stars, burning and burning, bleeding into each other in every reality because, there could never be you without him, one without the other.
Ten years ago, you swore that you would be the last person Seungmin would ever kiss.
Ten years later, nobody could say that you weren't a woman of your word.
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please reblog and comment if you liked this fic! it means everything to me and I love reading your thoughts <3
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440 notes · View notes
itsonlybaby · 5 months
Text
𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒
◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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putting out so many bellamy fics, here's the playlist I listen to while writing fics
Bellamy Blake - Arkadia
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You had a dream about your best friend Bellamy, and you try to suppress the feelings by avoiding him. Bellamy doesn't let this slide. ﹒   ⊹  ⤷ cw: smut, piv, praise, nsfw, gentle Bellamy
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His hand glided along my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. My breathing became erratic the closer and closer he got to my cunt, the place I craved his touch the most. Bellamy leaned down, giving sweet kisses to my stomach area before I finally felt his fingers on my pussy, sliding up and down coating his fingers with my slick.
I just about came when he pushed two fingers inside me, thrusting them up and hitting my sweet spot.
"Hey!" Octavia, my roommate, yelled.
I shot up instantly looking around taking in my surroundings, a wave of disappointment washing over me, suddenly missing the dream I had just awoken from. Why had I been dreaming of Bellamy of all people? He was my best friend!
My disappointment was replaced by my guilt.
"You've been asleep an hour past breakfast, wake up." She spoke, putting on her black boots and lacing them.
An hour? What happened to my alarm clock?
Octavia noticed my confused look towards my clock, "You didn't set it last night,"
Shit.
I climbed out of bed and almost tripped on my blanket. I walked to my dresser and pulled out a fairly cute outfit. Shorts, a tank top, and Bellamy's guard jacket I still needed to return. But I knew he'd have to steal it back to get it.
"Where are you off to today?" I asked Octavia, putting on my socks and then my brown boots. I saw her stand and grab her sword, placing it in the holster on her back.
"Gonna spend the day with Lincoln, makes things less boring around here." She opened the door to our room and left.
Leaving me to only my thoughts memories of the dream came flooding back to me. It was like I could actually feel his touch on my thigh. His big, calloused hands, his soft kisses to my stomach, touching me as if I were a porcelain doll.
Shaking my head I snapped out of my thoughts, I had things to do today.
Walking to my little clay shop beside the Armory I sat down on my stool. Reaching under the desk I brought out a lump of clay I left to dry.
I had a clay shop, though it wasn't really a shop. Bring me the dirt and I'll make you whatever you want. It made the days less boring and brought smiles to everyone's faces, people would commission things for their partners, moms, siblings, and friends. Knowing my little sculptures could bring such joy to the people of Arkadia was a nice feeling.
Slapping the lump down on the desk I rolled up the sleeves of Bellamy's jacket and began kneading it, this is where most of my strength came from. Once I was sure it was soft enough to work with I sat back down, dunked my hands in the water, and began sculpting. Taking mini lumps from the big piece of clay.
I had finished two before my thoughts caught up with me.
Kneading the clay again, I thought about Bellamy's hands, mouth, hair, and body. How good he'd feel against me.
"Clays not gonna knead itself," Bellamy spoke in an amusing tone.
I hadn't even noticed I stopped kneading.
The sight of Bellamy made my heart drop, without his usual jacket you could see his muscular arms, a sight I needed engraved in my brain.
Looking at his face my eyes were wide, I had hoped he didn't notice my unusual staring. I needed to get my head out of the gutter.
"Yeah, just got distracted," I replied, an awkward laugh coming after.
Bellamy raised an eyebrow, bringing his hands to his hips. He definitely noticed.
"You okay, princess?"
That name again. I practically melted every time he called me it, though I'm sure he meant it in a friendly manner it just sounded so good coming from him.
I let out a series of stutters before taking a breath, "Yes," It came out as more of a question than an answer, and I knew he didn't believe me.
Then finally, my saving grace came.
"Oh, look, customer," I say, the look on Bellamy's face still evident.
A customer from two weeks ago approached my shop, Bellamy looked between us and took his leave.
A part of me felt bad knowing I had pushed him away slightly. But id never get any work done if he was standing there looking so damn good-
"Hi, I'm here for the fox statue. For my boyfriend." She greeted me with a bright smile, clearly full of excitement to see the final result.
I returned her smile and nodded, "I remember! Let me get it,"
A few hours had passed since then and the sun was setting, many happy customers, and I somehow seemed to get a lot of work done.
Closing down shop I washed my hands in the bucket of water and walked towards the mess hall, feeling my stomach rumble.
Entering the room I looked to see what was on the menu for tonight's dinner.
Fish and tomatoes were an odd pairing but given our resources it was fairly good.
Grabbing a plate from Sinclair I searched for some familiar faces, to which I only found Bellamy.
Thinking the previous feelings for him faded I walked up and sat in front of him, a smile greeted me at my presence.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, getting comfortable and taking a bite of the fish. Not very flavorful.
"They headed to bed early,"
"Why didn't you?"
"Wanted to ask what was up with you earlier,"
Thank god I had finished my food, the intensity of his stare would've made my appetite vanish.
"I've just been distracted," I stated, hoping he would just take that for an answer. But I knew he'd keep budging.
"With?"
"I'm getting pretty tired, I'm gonna head to bed," I stood abruptly, not wishing to continue the conversation further. How else am I supposed to tell me best friend I had a wet dream about him and everytime I see him it comes back to me?
"Bye, bell," I flashed a nervous smile and quickly walked off before he could say anything else.
I knew I'd have to confront him sometime, but I'd hold off as long as I could until then.
Making it to my shared room I quickly opened the door and entered, Octavia probably spending the night in Lincoln's room. I was grateful for that, tonight I just needed to be alone.
Getting undressed I put on a pair of pajama shorts and just used Bellamy's jacket as a top.
Climbing into bed I slid under the covers, making sure to set my alarm this time.
Staring up at the ceiling for a good hour my mind clouded over with thoughts of Bellamy, it was expected at that point. I hadn't even noticed my hand going towards my cunt, rubbing myself through the fabric. Letting out soft, quiet moans at the feeling. As good as it felt I needed more.
My hand slid underneath the shorts and I teased my entrance, just as Bellamy did in my dream. Pushing into myself with two fingers the feeling was amazing, but imagining It was Bellamy again wasn't enough. I craved him, and in my lusty haze, I shot up and headed for the door.
I couldn't believe I was going to do this, I couldn't believe how badly I needed him.
I made a B-line for Bellamy's room, knocking on it. I was practically banging on it. A few seconds passed until I was met with the sight of Bellamy towering over me, his messy hair going in all directions, his shirt that hugged his arms so well, and his sweatpants that barely hid anything.
"Is your roommate in there?" I ask breathily.
With a shake of his head, I connect our lips in a messy needy kiss. The feeling of our lips touching for the first time makes me shiver, Bellamy makes no motion to push me off, instead, he pulls me inside, shutting the door with his hand. He picks me up and carries me to the bed, needing this just as much as I do.
He only pulls away when he sets me down on the bed, unzipping the jacket to find nothing under making him slyly smirk, my face flushed with an unimaginable redness. My mind now catching up with my heart.
This was really happening.
His hands gently fondle my breasts, soon snaking their way down my sides, to my hips, and then to my shorts, with every touch of his fingers, my body shivered, bathing in the attention from his hands and eyes.
He easily took off my shorts, the cool air hitting my now vulnerable warm cunt.
Bellamy was at a loss for words, never seeing something so beautiful before. The bulge in his pants now makes the material stick out in a more than noticeable way.
The feeling of embarrassment caught up with me, I moved my arms to cover myself but was stopped by Bellamy's tight grip.
"Don't," He demanded, letting go of my arms once I nodded shyly.
With a flushed face, Bellamy lowered his pants, revealing his cock. He took ahold of my legs and placed them on his shoulders, "Okay?" He asked, making sure this was really happening.
"Yeah, that's... that's good," I replied, reassuring him.
He guided his tip along my slit, coating it with my wetness as a type of lube. The feeling of him being so close to me made the hairs on my neck stand up.
I had wondered for a moment what people would think of us, but too in the moment to care.
Readying himself, Bellamy looked down at me again, taking in the sight of me with his jacket on.
"Please, I needed this," I muttered, "Needed you,"
"Feelings mutual, princess,"
And before I could reply he pushed in slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. I let out a moan as he bottomed out in me. My hands reaching out for his, he met me halfway and grabbed ahold of them. His big hands intertwined with mine. He placed our hands above my head and gave them a squeeze.
I squeezed back, hard.
"Can I move?" He asked, he so badly wanted to move. But he wanted our first time together to be gentle, sweet, and full of genuine love.
I nodded hesitantly, preparing myself for the pain and pleasure.
Bellamy pulled out and pushed back in at a slow pace, agonizing to him, it took everything in him not to just slam back into you at a rough pace.
The moans I let out sounded like heaven to him, he couldn't help but join in with his own grunts of pleasure, the way I would tighten around him started to become too much, and he couldn't keep his own sounds in.
"You're doing so good," Bellamy assured between groans, his voice had become gruff.
I bit my lip to try and stay quiet, fearful the room next to him might hear.
Bellamy didn't like that at all, "Let them out, princess,"
And when I shook my head 'no', he slammed into me hard, forcing my moans out as I squeezed his hand more.
"Bellamy!" I moaned out.
This only egged him on, loving the way his name sounded on my tongue.
As much as it hurt, it felt amazing how well he filled me, and how easily he could hit my sweet spot.
"Faster, please," I begged, staring into his eyes.
"Alright, princess,"
Bellamy leaned in closer making my legs bend more, letting him go deeper inside me. His pace began to speed up, making my moans grow louder in volume.
Every thrust was a new place deeper inside me, I felt my legs begin to shake, the familiar feeling of ecstasy creeping up my stomach.
He must've caught on, "It's okay, cum on my dick, princess, go ahead,"
His reassuring words put me over the edge, "Bellamy, Bellamy!"
My back arched as I reached my high with Bellamy fucking me through it.
My climax brought him even closer, the way my pussy clenched around his cock was overwhelming for him. His thrusts became sloppy and unhinged. He tried to keep it in, to make this moment last longer.
His brows furrowed while he stared into my eyes, saving this memory forever, "You're so beautiful," he breathed out, "So pretty with my jacket on,"
With a few more erratic thrusts he quickly pulled out, finishing on my stomach, bringing a newfound warmth all over.
Full of hesitance he let go of my hands, taking off his shirt and cleaning his cock and my stomach off while catching his breath. He threw the shirt into a bin in the corner of his room. Now taking a place next to me, wrapping his arms around my exhausted body.
"Been dreaming of that since we met," He whispered in my ear, placing kisses all over my neck.
I smiled.
If only he knew.
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◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
732 notes · View notes
sunboki · 7 months
Text
— KEEP IT BUSINESS. a Lee Minho fiction
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Lee Minho x f. reader
TROPE. best friends to lovers, coworkers! au, first kiss? au (hehe), domestic/soft minho, fluff
WARNINGS. cursing, making-out, inexperienced kissing, annoying coworkers
WORD COUNT. 6.9k words
AUG'S NOTES. so glad to have finally completed this!! it’s been rotting in my drafts for weeks and i just had to write a happy ending for these two grandparents 🫶🏼
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. Life can be a mess, and with you and Minho as the only two singles in your office building, an impertinent Valentine’s day leaves no choice but to make a pact.
or alternatively :
If we’re still single by twenty-five, we date each other.
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Four years.
It’s been four years since you first met Lee Minho, working with him at the same company, becoming the best of friends. And yet, the same dread lay specially reserved for the same season.
The season of love, or, to most people, Valentine’s day.
.
.
.
Alarm set for 6:30AM. Work from 8:30AM to 4PM. Every day of the week, every year.
Initially, the experience was relatively enjoyable. It paid well, wasn’t too harsh on hours, and other coworkers minded their own business (at least in your case) without being a pain.
Then the loneliness set in.
It was subtle at first, a tiny pang in your heart when you returned home to a dark, cold apartment while others would be greeted by a pet, a loved one.
So when Lee Minho, a new member of the company assigned as your apprentice came along, you tend to think meeting him was, in a weird, spontaneous manner, meant to be.
And four years later, when he had grown from that apprentice-ship and became established as an employee, you still hold onto that “meant to be” philosophy.
Busied chatter fills the downstairs cafe, familiar faces alike brimming with conversation, breath coffee-stained.
Peering across the various assortment of tables, you spot him, two identical cups in each hand, wearing that bemused expression as usual.
At this point, Minho has memorized your order by heart, arriving early after his daily stop by the nearby animal shelter (whose manager knew by heart). Most morning’s you’d await a picture of the newest addition to the feline section, a photo he proudly shows off like his own trophy.
You’re genuinely surprised his residence isn’t a constantly growing cat-kingdom.
“Looking forward to it?”
Brows furrowing, you sidle to his right and dish the warm beverage into your grasp.
“Looking forward to wha— wait wait don’t say it. I want to pretend it doesn’t exist.” Hurriedly waving your hands, Minho cracks a grin.
The cursed word in question being: Valentine’s day.
You can’t say you hate it. It never did anything to you, nor did it leave you heartbroken. To put it simply, the office over the first few weeks of February was a close-resembling spinoff to Singles Inferno except, much spicier and way too inappropriate in broad daylight.
Meaning, for the past five years (four joined by Minho), merely mentioning said season of love urges impending dread and deep frowns.
“All I’m gonna say is I would not want to be a doctor over Valentines,” You wince, sipping the warm drink with a squeamish face.
Minho sighs vehemently, propping an elbow against the computer cart behind him.
“I bet you could witness more vibrators in that hospital than in an Adam and Eve,” He grumbles, watchful eyes surveying the daily crowd occupying tables and chairs in the building’s downstairs café.
Slamming a fist to your chest to correct your breathing, your eyes practically bulge from your skull, evidently caught of guard.
Leave it to Minho to make you suffocate before your shift even begins.
8am is prime time for socialization—otherwise before Mrs. Song decides to unleash her wrath on newbies. She has good intentions, sure, but let’s just say most anyone was petrified upon first meeting her.
Luckily, your department with Hyeongmi, Minho, and Felix was secluded on the far side of the building, leaving you out of the woman’s hair, free to work as you please.
Yet, Mrs. Song wasn’t the problem, not when it came down to the month of February.
Your phone’s alarm signaling to start moving momentarily wards off the thought, and either of you begin toward the elevator, flat expressions describing the sinking feeling better than words.
Back at it, again.
Because by your lunch break, you can’t fathom entering the cafeteria, not if it costs you your life.
Everywhere you look someone is making out, confessing their love, or, worst you’ve seen it all day, genuinely fucking in the bathrooms.
Perhaps you’d send Minho a text you’re making an escape by eating in the office, invite him up for some solace.
Except, it seems he had the same idea.
Scrambling through the door, you enter at the same time, heaving sighs of exasperation upon securing much needed privacy.
Making prolonged eye contact, your thoughts come spilling out.
“If I witness another make-out in the stairwell I’m ending it all.”
“Boxes of chocolates are officially ruined for me now.”
Four years and it never gets old. Same old painful memories, same old excitement for the day to come and go. And it’s not like you hate the holiday itself, you two just.. heavily dislike the immense bucketloads of PDA and office hookups that come along with it.
Not-so-gracefully flopping down onto your chairs, you practically shovel food down, gladly accepting the few rolls of gimbap Minho places onto your plate.
Customary sharing. You give him some of your food, he gives you some of his.
In those brief minutes of silence do you get the opportunity to fully comprehend your own thoughts, prior to Minho clearing his throat.
“Drinks at my place?”
Your grown loudly in agreement.
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Minho : Okay, I’m leaving, follow me in thirty minutes
Glancing up, you watch your counterpart lift his brows your way and call out his departure, sifting through the doorway, cross body bag thumping against jeans.
Hyeongmi was downstairs, which, as awful as it sounded, was great not having to endure her nosiness.
This was how you stayed unbothered. He’d leave, and thirty minutes later you would too in order to (for now) avoid Mrs. Song (and Hyeongmi’s) pestering.
It couldn’t have taken the clock longer to reach 4:30PM. So by the time the beloved minute hand struck 4:29 you practically lurched from your seat, almost tasting sweet freedom before a face showed up right before you slipped through the exit.
Hyeongmi’s face.
What she’s talking about you can’t seem to understand, mind trained on escaping and escaping alone.
“C’mon now, you two are the only two in this building without a date. It’s been four years, Y/n! You need to let loose!” Hyeongmi emphasizes, dizzying your head the longer she shakes your shoulders.
“You do realize everyone has the hots for him but that he only hangs out with you, right? I’m telling you, it’s a sign—“
“Sorry Hyeongmi, I really have to go-“
Fastening your bag tigher across your body, you make a mad-dash as far away as possible, pretending to ignore the “use protection!” she shouted before the crisp evening breeze nipped your nose.
Use protection my butt, you grovel, ushering the scarf further above your chin as if to secure as much warmth possible.
She doesn’t know anything, not about how you took him under your wing as your apprentice the first year he joined, not about how much Minho loves cats, or how the keychain on that crossbody bag of his is a keychain you bought for him.
Simply placing it, she’s a person lead by the assumptions of others and adopting them as her own.
It irritates you.
Veering to your right, you thank his decision to house nearby, arriving at the foot of his porch after a mere ten-minute walk.
Delivering a few knocks on the townhome’s doorway, you note the paint chipping, colorful exterior worn from the sun’s rays.
Everything from the few cracks in the sidewalk to the relatively invisible stain of coffee on his doorknob lay memorized by frequency—his property second nature to you.
“Never have I hated being single this much,” You whine, slumping onto his couch after hurling your bag atop a hook in the foyer.
And despite the lack of response, you can tell Minho heard you. The faint, breathy chuckle enough evidence of his presence.
Perched on a chair he’d likely dragged from the kitchen, a feline companion occupies his lap, both comfortably relaxing on the patio, wine glass in hand.
Accordingly arranged on the countertop is another glass (you presume as yours), that you pour the vinegar-tinged substance into.
“I mean.” Slightly struggling to haul a neighboring chair to his side and simultaneously avoid splashing wine everywhere, you eventually find an equilibrium.
“It’s not like I asked to be single, I’m just too busy to consider a relationship, y’know?”
Minho absentmindedly hums, urging you to take a much-needed sip of the orchid-colored liquid.
Finally, you sigh out the last of your evening’s thoughts.
“..Hyeongmi caught me on the way out.”
Nor does this occasion need a reply either, the man’s suppressed giggle suitable enough.
“Mm.. I’ve got an idea.”
Carefully allowing the elongated glass to clink atop a translucent table, you cross and uncross your legs, welcoming the rustle of life around you into your eardrums, easing the cluttered space of your brain.
“Shoot.”
He clicks his tongue, gaze flitting to the emerging moon overhead.
“If we’re still single by twenty-five, we date each other.“
Making a surprised sound to yourself, you break into unadulterated laughter, about to call him hilarious before taking into account this is Minho you’re referring to, and the likelihood he’s joking on any matter is unlikely.
Sure it sounds cliché, but it’s Minho, why not?
…And perhaps that decision was made with a few glasses of wine in play.
“I’m in.” You grin, returning his outstretched hand by bumping your glasses before downing the remaining gulp, cheeks aglow, alcohol ridding your breath a distasteful stench.
Tipsy. Minho is charming normally, but especially when he’s tipsy.
He’s got this way of speaking that could get any unsuspecting girl reaching to unzip his pants in a second, sultry, half-lidded eyes drinking the person in front of him, talking like he has sugar lining his lips.
When Minho is tipsy, he’s tempting. You didn’t need four years to teach you that.
That, and the spare pajama set folded in his top drawer reserved solely for you on nights like this—too gone to go home.
Although, as you rise to your feet and head to the bathroom, pulling said silk pajama shirt over your head, Hyeongmi’s words reverberate again.
You do realize everyone has the hots for him but that he only hangs out with you, right?
Hm. Minho was always a recluse though. And with your history, obviously he’d have some liking for you.
It’s been four years, Y/n! You need to let loose!
Turning to stare at yourself in the mirror, you sulk, head hanging low.
What if you did something tonight? Something risky, something testing the limits this friendship borderlines. You’re both drunk, likely willing.
Then again, does Minho want this too? Did he ever intend to “let loose”?
Anxiety plagues you, hurriedly scurrying your pants over your legs and exiting to find Minho still seated in the same spot, appearing all the more tempting without having to do a thing.
You blame the alcohol.
Stamping forward as if you prepared a speech, you stop just behind his chair, mustering any ounce of liquid courage manageable.
“Minho.”
He grunts.
“You’re really pretty.”
Let loose. This is letting loose when it comes to Minho.
What, you thought you were gonna fuck? Yeah, that’s a funny one.
Winding himself around to see you, his lips wind into a sweet smile, urging you closer with a mere look before he reaches forward and taps your nose, dark eyes roaming your face.
“I’ve always thought you were pretty too.”
And perhaps, caught in a trance from his glittering stare, something did happen those four years you’ve been together after all.
You blame the alcohol.
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The impulsive part about this “date at twenty-five” pact you had forgotten to consider was the fact both of you were twenty-four, meaning in less than a year whatever plan Lee Minho had stirred up after plenty glasses of wine would oil it’s gears into motion.
Thankfully Valentines comes and goes, and Summer creeps dangerously close, the longer hours of daylight and lingering sunshine enough to make every work-day feel extra laborious.
First day of summer, Minho texts you, asking if you want to join him on a walk.
Mind you, it’s 10AM in the morning, an hour you couldn’t fathom waking up at on the first day of summer.
You groan and flop back down, shutting off your phone and slamming the pillow over your head in a pitiful attempt at falling back asleep.
Only for your doorbell to ring twenty minutes later.
Over.
And over.
And over.
The urge to screech compels your barely-awake form, legs wobbling out of bed to feebly reach the doorway in a sleep-ridden haze.
Of course, lo and behold, Minho lies responsible, clad in running shoes, a pair of shorts, and a black nike zip-up.
He’s evidently pleased—whether from how disheveled you appear—or that he actually got you out of bed in the first place by the lingering smile tugging at his lips.
You hate to say it, but he’s annoyingly attractive, there’s no denying.
“Caught you at a bad time, hm?” He tips his head down to make eye-contact, peering through wild hair and lidded eyes at your half-alive self.
All you can manage out is a minuscule grunt, about to close the door before Minho jars his hand in, inviting himself inside much to your dismay.
Like instinct, he heads straight to your closet, surveying the chaos his insistent door-bell ringing caused before fetching a sweatshirt to pull over your head and a pair of socks from your drawer.
Though, as you wake up a tad bit more, you hurriedly keep him from putting your socks on for you as he bends down, shying away with an irritated whine.
“If this is what dating you is like I’m calling off the pact,” You mumble, stomping toward the door with Minho pushing you forwards without chance of escape.
He giggles, seeming to contain utmost glee witnessing your temper tantrum.
“Oh trust me sweetheart, the fun never ends.”
He’s hopeless too, apparently.
Lucky for you, your friend’s visits occurred sporadically, meaning the 10AM wake up calls weren’t a daily routine of headaches.
In contrast, summer passed by in a flash, and you were shoved head-first into a packed schedule for a second time as the autumn leaves shriveled into crisp browns and oranges.
Autumn was always welcomed. It meant the chilling cold was approaching, yes, but it also signified apple cider being added to the downstairs café menu and—on those especially chilly mornings—bundling your neck in the scarf Minho bought you last christmas.
As for him, he frequents pointed shoes and straight-legged pants, his fudge-colored hair perfectly complimented by pumpkin scented fragrances and dusky red backdrops.
Brisk mornings call for thinking. And as you walk, you come to the indefinite conclusion apple cider fits Minho. Sweet, but not saccharine. Warm to the touch, reminiscent with a charming aftertaste. A silhouette that comes and goes as it pleases, leaving soon enough for you to crave it back again.
Regarding summer, he was sort of like a beach day. A vacation in the midst of roaring deadlines, the comfortable lull of waves buzzing your mind into a hazy, salty escapade.
Although as December plucks each oak of its splendor, a call on Sunday morning truly marks the season of winter.
“..Y/n?” Minho murmurs, his voice groggy, hoarse. You make a sound of acknowledgment in response.
“I think I’m sick, can you drop off some meds at the door?”
Pressing your phone close to your ear, you debate on your desire to scold him, remind him each time he gets a winter cold he should dress warmer.
Of course, your lips stay shut (just like they always have for the past few years), and you reply with a “Be there soon, hang tight” before ending the call and gathering your belongings.
At the supermarket you check out seaweed soup, multivitamins, and allergy relief—things of which you hope will alleviate some of his symptoms.
Eternally grateful for the spare key you’d been given a while back, you enter the home, calling his name until an exasperated sign of life was heard (more like coughed) from the bedroom.
Inside lay Minho, a distressing array of tissues scattered in all directions, clustered beyond belief. His nose is soured pink from incessant stuffiness, lips cracked and dry. Dark circles sag beneath tired eyes, worn disposition evidence of his condition.
Quick on your feet, you scour the bathroom for a thermometer, the device’s loud beep signifying a blaring fever as you hover by his bedside.
Watching the bowl of instant soup spin aimless circles in the microwave, Minho’s call knocks you out of your daydream, worriedly padding to where he lays.
“Come here.”
You oblige, arriving to his right, about to ask the matter until his fingers link with your own, bringing the back of your hand to his jaw, resting there.
If you had been warm before, an entirely new definition to sweating has been reached at this point.
“You’re warm,” He whispers, rubbing his face against your hand like a needy cat wanting attention.
How unfair a human can be this round.
Practically bounding from the inside, you use the excuse of the microwave beeping to race off, hurriedly disappearing into the kitchen while remaining ignorant to the way Minho’s gaze follows you.
Returning with a soup platter meticulously carried between your tight grip, you sigh with relief upon sitting the steaming concoction down. Oh so slowly, a frown grows at your face upon noticing the expectant stare boring into your head.
“Yes?”
He juts out his bottom lip like a kicked puppy from your nonplussed tone, nudging the covers over himself till only those calculating eyes peek out.
“I’m not feeding you.”
Minho all but whimpers, and you suppress the urge to smother him with a pillow right then and there, hating how easily he sends goosebumps prickling the back of your neck, heat scalding your ears.
“No.”
“Y/n.”
You quite literally feel like the cruelest person in existence because why is he looking at you with that face, saying your name like that.
Grumbling beneath your breath, you begrudgingly collect a spoonful, bringing the utensil to his already pursed lips.
Spoonful by spoonful do you feed him as if he’s a dependent toddler, his satisfied hums earning a stern glare in return.
Only when he finishes eating do you get up, reprimanding him on taking his meds without much bite to your words.
“And don’t take too many of these, alright? If it gets really bad, call me again. Otherwise, try getting sleep.”
“Yes ma’am.”
And of course he has to be endearing.
Such a pain.
You’ll stop by tomorrow.
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If Minho was the apple cider in autumn and beach days in the summer, he’s the prettiest of snowflakes in the midst of winter.
Memorable, fleeting. Melting in your touch.
The annual Christmas party the company hosts steadily approaches, your coworkers ringing your phone insistently with noticeable anticipation.
Though just like autumns chill, December soars past idly, reigning in a new year and a new digit added to twenty when asked your age.
Your winter premise only heightened the anxiety compiling in your gut, a feeling you hadn’t recognized until the following day—the first day back to work in January—dawned.
January 1st’s introduction means you’re both officially twenty-five, and you’re not sure if it’s the fact Minho hasn’t texted you yet or the valentines pact in itself setting you on edge.
What would it be like to date Minho? Would he kiss you, the same way male leads in K-dramas did? Hold you as you sleep, wish you goodbye with a kiss to your cheek?
The mere thought sends rivets of electricity blazing your fingertips, feeling like an utter fool for imagining such scenarios.
Now you’ve haunted yourself for worse, leaving only dread in tow.
Arriving at the office the first day back, you attempt at making yourself look as collected as possible, definitely not bothered.
Worse, the root of your troubles walks in unbothered as you’ve been trying to do for the past few hours, the room working in deplorable silence before a note wedges itself behind your keyboard, Minho slipping past in its wake.
It takes all your will-power to ignore the crumpled piece of paper as best as possible, your index itching to unravel whatever lay inside.
Noon is when you finally give in, lungs failing to produce air upon reading the contents, practically choking on nothing.
Come over to my place after work.
What is this, his way of declaring your pact officially in action? What if he calls it off, saying it was only a joke glasses of wine granted?
As Hyeongmi said before, everyone has the hots for him, so why don’t you? Why does the thought of him calling it off put you on edge?
Or maybe you do. Maybe you do have feelings for—
Woah. Stop there.
Luckily, your internal chess match went unnoticed, leaving only the buzzing of your ears and the ticking of the clock loud.
A certain fondness sat between either of you from the start, since becoming acquainted you’ve instantly clicked—sly remarks and playful teasing merely one more thing keeping you alive (minus coffee).
So when something crossing the border between friends and lovers arose, a sort of nervousness bubbled in your gut.
Minho was a shoulder to cry on for you, but was it like that?
You could rely and depend on each other whenever, but could those feelings ever turn into love?
Of course they could, and they likely would’ve if it weren’t for either of you being so work-oriented—making you even more worried.
Although, you can’t simply flee. You’re an adult.
..And Minho will find you in a heartbeat if you decide to run.
Never had you been hesitant to leave office until now, and trodding one foot in front of the other causes your legs to turn into jelly.
Minho probably isn’t this nervous. He’s probably in a great mood, treating the occasion like it’s just another casual day.
Never before was it difficult, whether difficult is referred to as placing a key in a doorway or walking inside, everything seems so.. eminent.
Like when you walk through this door, an entirely new side of Minho will show face. A romantic side of Minho.
Yet, there’s no rose petals lining the hallway, nor scented candles scattered here and there.
What is there to expect with dating in your twenties anyway?
Plus, Minho’s well, Minho. If he wanted to, he likely would’ve flat-out asked already.
Something you’re surprised about, however, is the triangular string decor swooping from the ceiling, the party hats by the sink, a single birthday candle placed in the center of a cupcake. Simple, perfect.
Although, the perfect factor came with the man responsible, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bracing himself on the countertop with a particular glow in his irises—whether it be from the lit candle you aren’t sure—that sets your stomach into a garden of butterflies.
A surprise party. He threw you a surprise birthday party.
And it’s then as enter the kitchen, brain barely recognizing each advance forward, you realize it.
You really, really want to date him.
And you really, really don’t want to screw this up.
Staring at each other, you rise up on your toes to place a careful, feather-light peck on the smooth, flushed skin of his cheek.
Slowly, he turns his head, a conniving smirk revealing the outline of his teeth whilst investigating your breathlessness.
“Someone’s daring,” He mumured, cocking a brow amusedly.
You poke his side, groaning that he shouldn’t look too far into it before he nudges you, your frown returned with a subtle nod—directed at the forgotten cupcake.
“Well you already gave me a kiss, so wish for something else.”
“Choke,” You respond, but there’s still no bite to it. Some things never change.
Minho gently holds your hair back for you, allowing you to lean over and blow out the candle. No bite.
Your wish?
Let Minho and I go well. I like us.
Every bit of it was the truth.
Hopefully this wish of yours can come true.
Maybe.
Seated on the living room floor do you finally relax, your shoulders slumping down after hours of monstrous tension. Seems you’d forgotten he was your best friend before anything else.
“So.. how does this work?”
‘Work’ as in, the dating deadline’s here, what’s next?
He purses his lips—a habit of his—blinking rapidly.
“Like friends? Except we get the kissing and sex pass in between, right?”
You smack his shoulder. He smiles, childishly extending his pinky out to you.
Linking yours, you press the pad of your thumb against his. An unspoken gesture.
“Together?”
Through thick and thin. Your way, as it always was, always had been.
He has stars in his tawny-globes for eyes.
“Together.”
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Minho’s hands are warm in the midst of frigid temperatures.
Spring isn’t too far off, but the bitter winds remain ceaseless and unrelenting, whipping your hair every which way, scattering a plethora of goosebumps along your skin.
Never had you held hands like this with someone before, nonetheless Minho, and yet, a connection lies inside the initial awkwardness. The silent assurance, whether it’s his thumb smoothing your palm or occasional squeezes, telling you he understands, that you’re not alone, or how he patiently waited by the door the entire time you were getting ready, claiming he didn’t want to dirty your place with his shoes.
It’s sort of revitalizing. Curious and inquisitive in his lingering touches, additional notes—reminders on your coffee cup, questions asking whether you want to stay over afterward, if he can give you a kiss on the cheek.
One in particular you recall:
I miss you. Scribbled in bleeding ink.
Your introduction as lovers had been a field day of trials and questions for the two of you, though when it came down to the public’s knowledge, you began debating on the “curiosity killed the cat” theory.
This morning, catching a glimpse of the company’s logo in the distance, you assign yourself as the cat. Too interested, now suffering the consequences.
Granted, you wouldn’t take back moving to relationship status, but it was a lot easier to brush off comments if you were Minho.
Hyeongmi being the main one responsible for said comments.
Morning passed by seamlessly, prioritizing work above all else, too busy typing away to for any interruptions.
..Until a midday conference.
Seated right next to each other, his fingers slowly thread with yours beneath the table, sending the man a perplexed (and slightly nervous) expression in response.
More so, the comforting casualness caused you to barely recognize Mrs. Song reaching below to fetch her fallen pen, a gasp of surprise stilling the conversation at her realization.
“Are you- Are you two holding—?”
Panicked, you smack his hand away, stomach plummeting.
Not expecting him to stubbornly grab your hand again, a miniature frown draws across his perfectly rose lips.
Pouting.
Lee Minho is pouting because you’re not letting him hold your hand.
Unbelievable.
If the situation could escalate further, the she-devil herself (Hyeongmi) throws her head down to spare a glimpse, allowing you to fully accept your demise. A demise that, one way or another, needed to happen.
This was simply an early death.
“You’re kidding! No way you guys are a thing?” The eccentric girl mouths the last words, eyebrows drawn to her hairline.
And just like that, your relationship with Minho ventured out of your pocket and into a brand new wilderness.
“So…what’s it like living everybody’s dream?”
Headed to the bathroom, Hyeongmi stops you, leaned over the mirror, carefully inspecting her plum-colored lipstick.
“What?” You pique, confusedly glancing between her and the empty stall you’re trying to nonchalantly slip into.
“I mean, the entire company’s talking about it. Tell me, are you guys actually official? Or is this all just for the attention? No offense, but-“
“I...”
Want to punch you in the face.
You keep it to yourself.
“I’m gonna go.”
Synonymously, both your bladder and your appetite completely disappeared.
Although, she doesn’t leave you alone.
You’re frantically searching for excuse after excuse, speed-walking and taking the stairs any chance available.
Unfortunately for you, she’s everywhere. At some point you’re certain a tracking device is hidden somewhere on your clothes.
Almost there. From silently pleading help with your eyes to legitimately hiding in your workplace, today couldn’t have been more of a joke.
Or so you thought.
“Y/n?”
“Yes, Hyeongmi?”
“With Minho,” She nervously fiddles with her earrings. “You don’t have to tell me but.. how’s the bedroom?”
Apparently, it can go lower.
Before you can respond to her shamelessness, a grip fastens on your shoulders, cologne distinct enough you can tell exactly who it is.
Your beach day.
“Hyeongmi, you do realize that’s rude, yeah? Let’s not cross boundaries we shouldn’t cross, got it?”
All the while Minho smiles, this cloying, “I dare you” sort of attitude no one can argue with.
Averting her attention, she speedily raises up, humorlessly laughing off the tension while excusing herself from the room.
“You okay?” He whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, pressing a chaste kiss there.
Yeah, there’s no getting used to this.
“Yep,” You say, though there isn’t much sincerity it.
He knows.
“Wait for me here, let’s walk home together.”
Ah. You want to kiss him.
“Minho.”
He turns on his heel.
Kiss me.
You’re holding his collar now, the option on the tip of your tongue, his lips a hairbreadth from yours.
Close, closer.
No. Not yet.
Either way, what do you know about kissing? What if you screw up?
Not yet.
“..Okay.”
Your gaze flits down to his lips if only for a second. A small, cheeky grin adorning his face as he follows your movements.
It’s hard to focus when he leaves, because all you can think about is the possibilities. What if you had kissed him? Would he have kissed you back?
By the way looked at you, the logical response would be: yes. Most people don’t stare at someone like that without the intent to kiss them, right?
Though somehow, you can’t help but feel unprepared, a complete novice in this battlefield of love.
Where Minho took you afterward was a mystery, merely happy to be away from the confines of your desk—letting his eager hand guide you wherever he pleased.
Shielded beneath the shade of two trees, your destination, Yeouido Park, is a spectacle during the transition period of winter to spring. You’d oftentimes spend hours here, basking in the relief a break grants. A spectacle where you two first truly met.
“Alright, be honest with me.”
He spins you around till you’re face to face, carefully analyzing your facial expression.
“Are you really okay? After Hyeongmi said that, I couldn’t stop thinking..”
Oh. That careful crease in his eyebrows, sympathetic.
He’s breaking your heart.
You realize now why everyone falls in love with him.
“Of me?”
The words come out involuntarily, a step forward in the newness, paving light through the darkened abyss.
“Yeah..” He says, a little winded while doing so.
Minho cares, he always had, yet, it’s your first time hearing it aloud.
“Y/n.”
Blinking yourself back into reality, your face grows warm, not intending to deliberately space out right in front of him.
He leans forward, causing you to shrink back into your skin as a kiss is planted right atop your nose, the man wearing a satisfied grin.
“Hey- You can’t- It’s not Valentines yet—“
“And why would I wait until Valentine’s day?”
Another deeper red burns your cheeks, and you scorn the way he gets under your skin—a way that makes every insult dissolve like powder on your tongue.
He notices, but decides not to prod further, lightly bumping your hip with his own as a signal to follow.
“Tomorrow is the day, y’know,” You mumble, kicking rocks with the tip of your shoe.
“Are we gonna turn into those couples?” He asks, pretentiously puckering his lips, eyes squinted shut.
You burst out laughing.
“I would break up with you first, sorry Minho.” Said puckered lips transform into a playful scowl.
“What? No treat for valentines?”
Blinking babydoll eyes up at you, you wrinkle your nose, coming to recognize what “treat” he was implying.
Earlier you would’ve kissed instantly, but an inkling of stubbornness kept you from giving into him this time.
Sneaking behind you, he ducks down, voice low enough for only your ears to hear.
“Didn’t seem you were too against it earlier.”
And with that, he races off, entirely too happy with himself and not likely to live down your reaction. Because you can’t disagree.
Since when were Lee Minho’s lips so kissable?
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Knock.
Knock.
Your attention strays from the mirror at the sound, wondering if it was simply a figment of your imagination only for the sound to ensue.
Knock. Knock.
Who would be at your door at this hour in the middle of the week?
There’s a name on your tongue, but you don’t contemplate any longer, tiptoeing to the doorway to peer through the peephole.
And the sight before you makes every ounce of suspicion worthwhile.
Minho, holding a bouquet of roses and things unknown behind his back, is reciting.
He’s staring at his shoes, bouncing back and forth on his heels nervously.
Lee Minho is nervous.
Wanting just to stand there and watch him rehearse, you finally give in after a third knock scares you out of your wits—hesitantly opening the door and trying to placate the most surprised expression possible.
His eyes round as saucers, you literally watch the gears in his head turn in real time, extending the flowers out to you.
“Happy valentines. These are uh, for you.”
And his ears are red.
You’re going to implode from how cute this is.
Attempting to stave down the alarming amount of happiness you’re experiencing, you hold the flowers in one hand, awaiting whatever lie behind his back.
Although, as the outline of a box of chocolates appears, so does… a shampoo bottle.
What.
Bathing in a long silence, you can’t help but wonder you’re genuinely hallucinating. Glancing from his face to the literal shampoo in hand, he mirrors you, confused for a reason you’re trying to figure out as well.
“Is that… a shampoo bottle?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you were running low the last time I came here.”
You’ve never received a valentine before, but this automatically took the cake.
Is it possible to fall in love after you’re given a shampoo bottle as a gift on valentines? Apparently so.
Nonetheless, work flashed past, barely able to register a thing between the many congratulations you received and the absence of Hyeongmi (assumed to be due to the brown-haired charmer beside you).
For now, you savor the freedom of the day, finally able to escape the pains of before and wallow in a new kind of excitement. Love.
Love delivered by Minho himself in the form of mini scraps he’s folded into hearts, slipping heart after heart onto your desk at any opportunity to the point you bump his leg beneath the table in warning.
He cheekily smirks in return, stupidly innocent face scheming with malice.
He’s getting an absolute kick out of this, and you hate to admit you enjoy it just as much.
As usual, you wait behind for him to catch up on your daily commute home—an activity you did long before any romantic feelings became involved.
That’s it. Minho’s pinpoint of romance.
Shampoo bottle, walks home, extra coffee, notes.
Minho doesn’t openly express his love, not unless he feels either adventurous or obligated. Instead, he studies. Your habits, the things you enjoy, your actions, preferences. That particular coffee order you liked, how you had ran out of shampoo.
Oh how you love him.
Though, rounding the sidewalk to your place, Minho grabs ahold of your wrist. In response, as soon as you turn your head, you’re mere centimeters from his face, simply standing there, proximity willing either of you not to move.
Initial words dying out, he slightly edges to the side, cocked in a way that has your mind racing.
Nose, cheek, but never lips.
No.
Your hands act before any other part of you, blocking his lips from yours.
“We-“
The look he’s giving you, shock.
You feel a hundred degrees hotter.
“We need to go inside,” You excuse yourself fast, the man tailing behind, grip still loosely attached to your wrist.
Quickly shutting the door behind you, it’s an immediate embarrassment flooding your frame that allows you to speak, words bursting outward in an uncontrollable cacophony.
“Minho I’m so sorry I have no idea what I was doing, I shouldn’t have done that, it was a stupid idea. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything-“
“Hey, slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”
His tone serves as the much needed breeze fanning your face, cooling you down enough to articulate sentences properly.
“I’m sorry, we’ve just never kissed on the lips and I feel like I’m gonna be horrible and kill the mood. This is stupid, I know, just.. bear with me please?”
His eyebrows furrow, forming together the equation piece by piece.
“You’ve.. You’ve never had your first kis—?”
You hush him furiously, slumping onto the couch dejectedly.
Yet, Minho doesn’t laugh nor pick fun regardless of how hilariously idiotic the occasion is. He’s quiet, concerned almost.
You add that to your long list of things you love about him.
Inhaling gradually, your focus flits to the window, collecting yourself, easing the frantic rush-hour traffic rampaging in your skull.
If you were one of those paper hearts he made, he’s pulling apart each careful fold in this very moment. Unraveling the layers till your bare self is exposed in all its anxiousness.
“I hate it. It feels like a part of that teenage youth everyone talks about is something I’ll never get to experience. I was too busy caring about school, and now I feel like I’ve missed out.”
Soaking in a quietness, you jump when he places a hand over yours, softly tracing the skin of your knuckles, glossy as he watches, carving each perfect aspect of you into memory.
“Well you may not be seventeen, but you’re never too old to learn to kiss.”
One hand cupping your jaw to garner your attention, you’re met with a glass-like visage.
Gentle.
“And I can teach you how.”
It’s always been business, you’ve always been business. Which is why, now confronting what feels to be the highest peak in your love life, you’re left a completely blank canvas. No rules, no instructions.
It’s terrifying.
“Min- Minho, I really haven’t done this before.”
You hastily pique, scooting backward in the cushions.
Curse the shakiness of your voice.
“If you don’t want to do this, tell me. We won’t.”
You quickly shake your head.
No, you want this, you’ve wanted this too badly to back out now.
“Then let’s take it slow, okay?”
It’s horrifically awkward at first, a tiny peck, then a bit longer till your arms creep over his shoulders, his fingers once holding your jaw steady now resting on your neck.
Best word to describe it? Messy.
“Breathe through your nose.”
“Minho— I’m suffocating here—“
You sputter back, quite literally heaving for breath.
Yes, it was otherworldly kissing him, and he was an insanely good kisser, but did this really require your lungs to practically burst?
“Are you teaching me how to give a blowjob or kiss?”
His smile transforms mischievously, a sneering laugh slipping past. You already know he’ll make a sly comment.
Minho winks. “We’ll get to that later.”
“I lost my urge to date you. Bye.”
“Noooo Y/n~” He whines profusely, warm hold on your waist beckoning another kiss filled with hushed giggles and incessant jeers from either party—ensuing a halfway unbuttoned shirt and quite possibly the most greedy ten minutes known to man.
Out of breath, he pulls back from your stomach, the ticklish feather-light kisses planted there earning a stifled giggle from you while he blinks upward, seeming to be focused on something.
“Minho?” You question, ignorant to how unbelievably obsessed with you he is, more than ever in this moment.
From your damp, sweaty skin to the few hairs stuck to your forehead. Your swollen lips, the way you laugh, your stomach dipping with the action. He doubts he’ll ever get tired of this.
Reaching forward as if caught in a trance, he tenderly tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, voice barely audible upon pressing his forehead against yours.
And in the seclusion of your living room, tangled up together on the sofa, it’s just the two of you existing in this world.
“I hope you know I really meant it when I said I thought you were pretty too.”
Ah. He remembers. All that time ago.
Of course he does.
Kissing you for a time you can’t remember, you begin to wonder if that birthday wish of yours had came true after all.
Your feelings for Minho had always existed somewhere inside of you. Your head, your heart. A tiny inkling into something more, a could be. Two individuals wishing, waiting to make a move.
It seems the Valentines Pact sealed the deal.
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
FIC TAGLIST. @gimmeurtmi @jisuperboard @porang-poranglinos @palindrome969 @stayceebs97 @inniescandy-01 @idklin0
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enhastolemyheart · 8 months
Text
enha + boyfriend moments ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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pairing non idol!enha x fem!reader warnings none genre fluff est. relationship nets @k-films @kflixnet
a/n I wanted to try something different this time. sorry i went mia for so long :(( i decided to do something for all of enha boys and i hope u enjoy!! also i totally forgot abt jungwon's allergies while writing his part so less jus pretend he is not allergic to cats :((
banners by @cafekitsune
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LEE HEESEUNG ツ
i feel like heeseung would always and i mean ALWAYS trap you between himself and whatever other object is there near you. I honestly feel he loves to see you flustered and ears all burning red just from a mere touch as he very smoothly traps you between his arms, nowhere to escape. like, the look on your face is such a ego booster and this little "moment" has to happen at least once a day. It is just a heeseung coded move and it gets you worked up every single time.
"hee, I just had to go get groceries real quick, can you let me go?" You try to excuse yourself from his hold as you were trapped between the counter and his arms. "no baby," he bends to meet your eye level, "you left without giving me a kiss." he moves in so close you think you'll combust. "cmon baby, make it up to me."
more under the cut!
PARK JONGSEONG ツ
we all know Jay's love language is acts of service and maybe even gift giving. cmon, its obvious that jay is the kind of person to always buckle your seatbelt for you, open any kind of door for you, cook meals that remind you of your culture and hometown, likee he is literally the sweetest boyfriend ever. he's perfect. he is also the type to always have a belonging of your in his bag whenever you both are outside. like that is so jay coded.
your day started with a quick breakfast at a cafe, and then your extravaganza at the amusement park. You and jay went through it all, the amazing food, the thrilling rides. he even held your hand the whole through the roller coaster to help you conquer your fear. he was there every step of the way and you both had so much fun. the sun had started setting and so you both get seated at a highly reviewed restaurant in the park for dinner. Just as the food came, you wanted to tie your hair up, feeling scorching due the humid air and all that walking you did. noticing you were having trouble finding your tie, Jay casually puts his wrist closer to you where a hair tie was sitting. "here, i kept an extra."
SIM JAEYUN ツ
jake is definitely the type of boyfriend to take you out on night drives. windows rolled down, music blasting in the air, one hand on the wheel and the other intertwined with yours. you couldn't have spent your night with jake in any other way. he loves you with all his heart and i feel like one way of showing it is through songs, so what's better than listening to playlist he made for when he thought of you, while riding around the city at its most quiet hour?
"baby, i just added some new songs to the playlist." he confesses, giving your knuckles a sweet kiss before bringing it back onto your lap. "yeah? lemme hear it jakey." he giggles as he presses play "i love you, my girl." he looks at you the whole time you were listening, together on a blanket as you indulge the beautiful night sky.
PARK SUNGHOON ツ
one thing that sunghoon loves but doesn't want to admit is waking up in your arms. quite literally, he loves falling asleep on your chest with your hand massaging his back and hair. ugh, he'd just melt to sleep then and there itself. don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves seeing you under his arms first thing in the morning. but, something about being in your embrace where he can be vulnerable and himself is just far much better. he absolutely love your sweet and hoarse voice as you greet him a good morning and then proceed to pepper his precious face with kisses to start of the day right. he feel so much better with you and your presence.
the little kisses being left on the top of sunghoon's hair wakes him up. he looks up at you from his place, hair all strewn, arms wrapped around your midriff while head tucked inside the crook of your neck. you giggle softly at his sleepy smile before running a hand through his hair, "good morning, sleeping beauty." he huff as you see the evident pink on his cheeks. "good morning" comes out muffles due to how close his mouth is to your skin, placing gentle kisses and squeezing your waist. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, giving you a full, sweet good morning kiss and murmuring that he wants to stay five more minutes in bed.
KIM SUNOO ツ
this is such a sunoo coded thing. but, he absolutely LOVES doing masks and manicures with you. like, imagine just sitting on your bed, face masks on and gossiping about anything and everything while painting each others' nails. sunoo is the type of boyfriend in whom you'll find a best friend. like, he is always the first you would go to share news and stuff and vice versa.
"and so because of niki, we got the rest of the day off!" sunoo exclaimed finishing the mini story of a recently occurred event. you couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the story. minutes pass, and now he is painting your nails this time, both of you rocking a baby pink color. you both end up binging 2000s rom-coms before dozing off sleeping soundly in each others' arms.
YANG JUNGWON ツ
ugh. jungwon is such a soft boyfie. he is always by your side helping/accompanying you to anything and everything. jungwon is very kind and caring and takes care with so much love, he loves you more than himself. he is the type to always greet you with warm hugs and cheek kisses. hand holding when going on a stroll outside no matter the time of day. he is also very BIG on words of affirmation. he is always telling he loves you and he makes sure you know.
"omg! won, look!" you point at the stray cat that was situated under a tree near the trail of the pretty park you both are at. he looks at it with wide eyes before slowly moving towards the cat, wanting to greet it. once the ginger cat understands that you both mean no harm, it starts to get close with jungwon rubbing up against his leg. "it is so cute won, it looks just like you!" you exclaim resulting in a chuckle from your boyfriend. he slowly picks up the cat, bringing its face close to his before turning to you. "see baby, you can't tell the difference between me and the cat, can you?" you chuckle softly kissing his cheek. you both decide to take the cat to a vet and then give it some food and shelter for the night.
NISHIMURA RIKI ツ
this kid. as much as playful he is, he is as equal in being sincere and true to himself and your relationship. he loves to tease you. i think quality time is one of his ways of loving you, so i can def see you both out on adventurous dates together. whether it be basketball dates, going to an amusement park together, spending time with each other at 4 am having ice cream, anything and everything you do, it's always filled with love and laughter that make up wonderful memories.
"come on baby, try and take it from me." niki exclaimes as yet again steals the basketball from your hold dribbling slowly towards the basket. "ugh, you and your damn long legs." you mumur. he laugh at your comment before stopping in front of you. he is so close that you know you are going to turn red soon if he doesn't back up. "here." he puts the ball in front of you, and you have to declare yourself stupid because inches before you can get the ball, he raises his arms, putting the ball way out of your hold. "riki! not fair." you out as you try and jump to get the ball. Niki simply laughs at your silly attempts. "you are so cute, you know that?" he bends to meet your eye level, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. "i love you" knowing the effect you had on him, you managed to snatch the ball before running away and yelling, "i love you too dork!" niki smirks at your escape before chasing after you.
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a/n. tysm for reading!! i hope u liked it! this was not proofread!!
perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup ; @heeseungshim (send an ask to be added)
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the-faceless-bride · 7 months
Note
can i have yandere clawd and deuce poly 😪 iltsm( i love yr writing ur one of my fav writers btw 💞)
Omg. I love both of them so much. 🥩🐍 Bluckle the FUCK up, it's a long one. I love them so much. I gave each their own section as to how this started, then the poly together. If you want more of them... Please... Please ask me. P.s. sorry about all the monster puns, I couldn't help myself
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🌕New Ghoul in School🐍
Warnings: OOC Clawd, OOC Duce, OOC Cleo?, OOC Draculaura? Clawd being a kicked puppy, yandere content, controlling behavior, turning to stone, non-con hugging, cuddling and Kisses, forced closeness, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR!, accusations of cheating, emotional cheating?
Characters : Clawd × Reader × Duce
Proof read : nope
Requested?: yes
You had just transferred from your normie school, Turns out people are so accepting of finding out you're a monster. So you transferred to Monster High, and being a new ghoul didn't seem so hard until you tripped an orange werecats tail and she picked a fight with you...
"and just Who, do you think you are? I don't know how you are your Normie friends play, but you don't want to mess with me Ghoul. I'll make you sorry-"
"why don't you go and pick on someone your own size Torilie?"
"yeah, Dude. Not cool."
🐾🐍 • and that's how it started. Just two Mansters defending the New Ghoul. They knew Torilie was one to pick fights and figured they would help you stay out of trouble for the time being. And the three of you became three peas in a pod. And while you all thought it was great, their Ghoulfriends... Had other ideas.
🐍🕶️ • Cleo started having problems as soon as you had arrived. Your first day she already knew who you were, what you were, where you came from, and if you were cool enough to be popular and associate with the Ghouls she does. And she deemed you not worthy. And that was putting a strain on your friendship.
🐍🕶️ • Duce was grown increasingly tired and frustrated. He loved Cleo, he did. But she could be... Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. When they go out he has to change his personality to not embarrass her, she dictates who can can hang out with and when, and he has to constantly hear from her that he should be doing as she asks and says and do it happily as she goes against what her family wants to be with him. He doesn't want to do that anymore. He wants to be able to Shoot Hoops with Clawd, sit with Jackson at lunch, and talk about the Hissstory test. Listen to whatever playlist Holt made or play dodgeball with Slow Mo. Without Cleo saying when he can and can't.
But he just can't leave her. He's become so dependent on her. Hell, the last time She went to Scarise without him, he nearly went crazy as he didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave Cleo. Even if he wanted to... Unless. Maybe he didn't need to be dependent on her. Maybe. He could be dependent on you.
🐍🕶️ • Duce began to test the waters, which was the start of his obsession. For example at lunch when Cleo tells him to get the green eyed Salad and a water, he'll then turn around and ask you... Sometimes when you feel the burn of Cleo's raging stare you won't respond or say the same as Cleo, but on the days you don't pay attention or to stressed to care you recommend the meat plant sandwich and the yummy razzberry soda pop you've been drinking the past few days. And he'll pick your recommendation. And it Infuriates Cleo. He likes that with you, he has a choice, where Cleo demands and tells. You offer and recommend.
🐍🕶️ • this intimately ends in an explosive argument that Spectra has a field day covering. And Duce does something, not him. Her. Or anyone else in the school say coming. "I'm breaking up with you Cleo." a long still silence fills the halls as everyone takes a moment to process what he just said. Before Cleo screams and storms away, and Duce... Doesn't feel as heartbroken as he thought he should.
🐍🕶️ • Duce starts spending most if not all his free time with you and Clawd, well. Mostly you as Clawd gets called from Draculaura a lot. And while he's sad he can't spend more time with Clawd he's happy to spend time with you. You help groom his snakes, you help him pick which sunglasses he should wear each day, (even though they are all just different shades of red) as well as his many band sweaters. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially with Spectra's gossip site.
"Duce trades princess for new Ghoul?! Stay tuned for the possible new hot relationship??"
🐾🌕 • when Clawd first met you he thought you were great! He got a new friend to hang out with! Sure Manny, Heath, Gill, and Duce we're cool but Clawd has a thing for fashion and self-care, that's not something he really talks about with them BUT that's OK! cuz now he can talk about it with you! He ended up spending a bit of free time with you, anytime Draculaura was out and shopping or just Fanging out with her Ghoulfriends or catching up with her Cousin, he would spend his afternoon with you. Getting his hair straightened and trimmed, getting manicures so his nails don't get too sharp and ridged. And eventually, when he's comfortable with you, he'll start playing games. Like fetch or chase. The only issue is that when Duce started to come around more and Cleo trying to keep him on a leash, slowly Draculaura started calling him and needed him more and more. He didn't think much of it, until Duce's big breakup with Cleo. A week later Draculaura wouldn't leave him alone for a second, and anytime you started approaching she took his hand and pulled him in another direction.
🐾🌕 • it started becoming draining, he loves spending time with his Ghoulfriend. He truly did. But not when every two seconds she was hinting and implying all the time he spent with you was him creeping around behind her back. Nothing he did or said made her change her mind, now everything he did seemed to set her off. She was so paranoid, that he went out of his way to make her a gift to show that he loved her, but he accidentally made it worse, he had to try and hold back tears and puppy cries as she said, "Bad Clawd!" over and over while tugging his ear. He doesn't understand what he did wrong, he just made a new friend. You nor him did anything. So why was she being like this?
Any attempts to talk about it were shut down, as she tried keeping him away from you. And he just couldn't take it anymore, he liked being clingy but he was clingy because he genuinely wanted to be around his partner not just sticking to them like glue-watching like a hawk to 'catch them in the act'. He would go as far as to say this was worse than the time he was dumped for Valentine the love manipulator.
🐾🌕 • Clawd began to confide in you, Draculaura wouldn't listen to him so he was happy you did. He spent hours just sitting under a tree at the back of the school with you, drawing doodles in the dirt, ears tucked back to his head as he vented about his feelings and how the recent arguments had affected him, you tried to help every time. But eventually, word got to Draculaura about your little meetings, and stormed over one day with her ghoulfriends in toe.
Both you and Clawd had to endure the burning glare of the Ghouls, Draculaura ranting and raving and ultimately giving him an ultimatum. You or her. And Clawd's ears pinned flat to his head, he didn't want to lose his Ghoulfriend but he didn't want to lose you either. But before he could answer Draculaura said something that gave him the push to his ultimate answer. "ugh, I should've known! A guy hangs out with other guys like him! And Duce is a lying, dirty, cheater and so are you! And this new Ghoul sure has some nerve to go around sneaking with other Mansters knowing they are dating someone! If that's the kind of Manster you are Clawd then maybe... Eh *hick* MaYbe we shouldn't Be togEther!" a moment passes where Clawd looks down into Draculaura's wet violet eyes, sighs, then answers. "maybe we shouldn't." the ghoul's Gasp and Draculaura sobs, "FINE! WE ARE OVER!"
🐾🌕 • Clawd thought relieved he wouldn't be interrogated every day and being told he's bad, he's still heartbroken that the Ghoul he thought he'd spend his life with was gone. He clung to you and Duce for security and long talks to make him feel better and eventually, he did. Clawd was back to his peppy, wide-eyed, excitable self again. In fact, he's the happiest he's been. His mood wasn't Even shaken when he found out Draculaura had begun dating his sister, he just didn't care. He was happy.
🐾🌕 • It wasn't until a late-night Chat; that you and Clawd had stayed over at Duce's house after seeing a new skinwalker Scareitage Boovie that Clawd discovered that not only He had feelings for you but so did Duce... And well, he had always liked Duce maybe even more than just a bro, but this changed everything. And they agreed. A scarily wonderful idea...
"Vampy puts doggy out for good? Or does Doggy like the Dog house with his chew toy?"
🐍🐾 • now Duce and Clawd are softer yandere's than the normal. But that doesn't mean they won't use force if they need to. Duce is a Dependant, laid-back, stalker-type yandere. He's ok with letting you have wiggle room as long as he knows where you are at all times and can get to you in a short period. Whereas Clawd is a Clingy, overprotective, worshiper-type Yandere. Clawd wants to be near you all the time if you let him, but he's ok with letting you go for a while as long as he has Duce he always knows where you are because Duce knows, if at any point Duce doesn't know for some reason or he's not around Duce to find out, he'll use his nose to track you down.
🐍🐾 • You probably wouldn't know they are yandere's unless you start trying to spend more time with others that aren't them. The more you try and hang out with Operetta and Cupid they start to get a little more aggressive and demanding of your time and attention. Which can trigger some alarm bells that something isn't right. The best thing would be to try and talk and compromise they are willing to do that as long as you promise to let them keep tabs "for safety reasons," and you spend time with them immediately after.
🐍🐾 • after a month or two they start to be more openly affectionate and act like a Throuple, it went over your head at first with Duce's laid-back attitude and Clawd's over-excitable personality being normal, but the more Clawd wanted to play fetch and hug you, and Duce constantly being around you despite having the freedom to hang out with his other dudes you start to get the idea they might be romantically interested.
🐍🐾 • You opened to the idea, and the relationship seemed to be working well... Until they started to become, overwhelming. Clawd always over your shoulder, Duce always seeming to know where you are... Even when you didn't tell him where you were. And things took a turn when you tried to tell them you needed space. "You're... Breaking up... With us?" you sputtered, you definitely didn't answer and deny fast enough as you felt your body start to stiffen and cold. Duce had turned you to stone. Clawd whimpered while holding your cold stiff stone body, "im sorry sweetheart. But we can't have you running from us. Just be good ok? Please?" after that you'd been chained to them by that point. Nobody would've believed you if you told them the school's Cool guy and oversized puppy were forcing you into a relationship...
🐍🐾 • they aren't too harsh on punishments. For the most part. Once you tried to run away once, you waited for a moment to be alone before printing off trying to get somewhere, anywhere but there. But you forgot who you were dealing with and Clawd chased you down. Clawd's punishments involve many forced hugs, kisses, and closeness. If he shows how much he loves you at some point you'll see it's true and love him too! Right?
Duce will turn you to stone anytime he gets an idea you're about to run off. He makes Clawd drag you to his house. Which takes a lot of manipulation and convincing. Clawd doesn't want to lock you away to be alone. He wants you to be around them! But Duce scares him into going along with it. Even sometimes provokes him to anger to be more willing to lock you in a dirty old basement.
🐍🐾 • overall. As long as you stay and promise to love them, and don't mind clinginess it's a cute relationship... But if you reject them, you'll spend a lot of time in an old basement in Duce's home, alive but unable to move. To feel. Or scream.
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799 notes · View notes
rafesslxt · 6 months
Note
Hi! Would you write a smut fic about getting high with Mattheo?
R U High Mine⎥Mattheo Riddle
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summary: you come back from the holiday's with some weed for you and the boys. When you and Mattheo smoke while showing him some songs, it get's a little heated between the two of you.
warnings: Filthy smut yasss, getting high, so drugs/weed, smoking, best friends to lovers, making out, vocal mattheo (ugh), dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v, aftercare, mattheo calling reader slut and whore
note: I saw this in the car and had an immediate idea how to write this, had much fun. Thank you for the request I hope you like it. 💚
song: I recommend listening to the song "R U Mine" or "Why'd you only call me when you're high" by Arctic Monkeys, trust me babes. Or hear the playlist "Are you high mine" from my Spotify.
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The boys and Pansy already waited for me in the common room as I arrived at Hogwarts again. It was like Christmas for them, knowing I would always bring them their favorite treat after the holiday's.
I smiled at them, knowing they were thinking the same as me as they smiled back at me. "Y/n!" Pansy was the first to stand up and hug me. From all the people I called my friends, I was closest to her. " Hey Pansy, how are you?" I asked, letting my bags fall to hug her back.
"I'm great! We're waiting for you girl. Everyone's here already." she giggled as she let go of me so I could great the rest.
I gave everyone a hug, at last Mattheo, who kissed my cheek. " How are you princess?" he asked, scanning my face. " I'm good Matt, thanks." I smile at him and sit beside him on the armrest. " What about you?" " Fine now that you're here." I rolled my eyes playfully at his answer.
"You know we're all happy to see you y/n, but do you have it?" Draco asked, shifting impatient in his seat. I think from all of us, he was the one with the most need for it. He was constantly on the edge, maybe even worse If it wasn't for Pansy who comforted him the best she could. He had all the pressure of his father on his shoulders and It was clear to see what it did to him. So a little smoke from now and then did good for him.
"Of course I have it, how could I forget when all of you reminded me the whole 2 weeks of it in each letter you wrote?" I say sarcastic, with a little smirk on the edge of my lips.
I grabbed my purse and pulled out a big black bag with already little packed baggy's, also black so you couldn't see what's in it, for each of them.
"Oh my god it's more than usually, right?" Enzo said, gawking at the little bags in my hand. I chuckled as I gave each one of them their own little bag so they could divide it up for the next few weeks.
"Yeah it is indeed more than usual. Got a good prize for it." " Wait let me pay what we didn't give you." Draco said, grabbing into his pockets but I shook my head. " No it's good. I'm friends with him since we were kids." He nodded and opened his bag to smell it, saying "You know I never thought I would say that but I wouldn‘t have thought I would ever be this happy to have a friend who is part of the muggle world."
I laughed at his comment, before giving the last bag to Mattheo. "I've got something else for you." I grinned at him, knowing he'll love it.
Obviously things like wifi don't exist here so I buyed him an MP3 player with lots and lots of battery's so he could listen to music. This time I brought an CD player and made a few Playlists for him.
His smile got bigger as he saw me pulling it out of my bag. "What's that?" Blaise asked, watching us. " It's an CD Player so you can hear Music a little louder than with headset."
"You wanna hear it?" I ask, Mattheo nodding. " Yeah princess, let's go." He grabbed my bags and gave me my purse. "See you later guy's." I waved at the rest of them.
It became a ritual for us to listen to music every time I came back from holiday's, so the group already knew what's going on.
We walked towards mine and Pansy's dorm we shared which was no issue to her as Mattheo and Draco shared a dorm so she would always go over to Draco's.
"You roll the weed and I'm gonna put on the music mkay? Grinder is in the top drawer." I say while walking towards my desk and putting the CD player on it, putting the battery in it and the first CD I wanted to show him. In the meantime he sat down on my bed and grinned the weed smaller before rolling it into a J.
"Ready." He smiled at me and tapped the place beside him on the bed. "Okay, so this is a band I want to show you, they're called "Arctic Monkeys" and I think you'll love them." Confident I sat down next to him after starting the Music. He lit the J and handed it over to me. "Here, you go first." "Thanks." I took the first drag and inhaled it deeply into my lungs before grinning and exhaling the smoke. " Oh it's good. Marc didn't disappoint." "Marc huh?" he asked as he took his first drag. " So you two are close or anything?"
I shrugged with my shoulders before laying down on my back. " Kind of, but not as close as I'm with you guys. I know him since I'm a kid, he's also the only one who knows about Hogwarts beside my parents."
He scanned my face as I was talking, slowly dragging his gaze from my eyes to my lips. I saw it but didn't think about it as I slowly but surely felt the weed have an effect.
"Damn, you were right. The music is great. It's a bit..edgy." " Yeah I know but it's great for smoking." I giggle and turn my head back towards the ceiling as the song "Why'd you only call me when you're high" started to play. " That's my second favorite." I tell him, feeling the weed calming me down but also making my senses and nerves more sensitive and reactive.
"What's your favorite?" "It comes after a few songs, just wait, I will tell you."
We layed down a little longer, smoking the J until it was ready and we were high as fuck. "Shit, it feels so good to be like this again." he groans, sending shivers down my spine. I turned my head towards him, seeing him looking at the ceiling.
I always had a crush on Mattheo. I loved when he was all flirty with me, while with nobody other. We both had partners before but I always felt some kind of pull towards him. My eyes scanned him, looking at his sharp jawline at first. I also loved looking at it, made me feel some type of way. Especially when it moved while he smoked.
Suddenly his eyes hit mine and maybe it's the weed but I had a feeling as If there was more in his gaze. Again, he looks at my eyes and then at my lips, licking his own.
Then my favorite song started playing. " That's my favorite." I said, watching him looking to the CD player. I wait a litte before he reacts to it. He breathed out heavily before looking at me. "You know where I would love to hear it?" "No tell me." "When we fuck." he says bluntly.
My eyes widened in shock, not knowing If I imagined things now. Before I could say anything he rolled over on top of me, grabbed my neck and kissed me with passion I've never felt before in my life. I opened my mouth as his tongue licked over my bottom lip. He groaned against my lips and pressed his body even more against mine, letting one hand beside my head to support himself and the other which was at my neck, now wandering over my stomach.
My breathing got faster and heavier due the haze and the arousal I suddenly felt. "Fuck, you don't even know how long I've been wanting to do this." He lowers his head down to my throat in a rush, leaving my lips trembling.
Goosebumps erupted over my skin as I felt his tongue licking my skin and his teeth carefully biting it. " Mattheo.." I moaned and let my hands go trough his hair, pulling on some strands. "What princess? What do you need hm?" he mumbles against my neck.
I arched my back and pressed my hips against his, feeling he's already hard. I gasped at the friction and bit my lip right after. " Need to feel you." "Where, tell me where. I wanna hear you say it." he groans, pressing against my hips.
"Everywhere. Fuck me." I would have never said that so bluntly without the weed, but I'm so grateful that we did smoke.
He growled against my skin, leaving wet kisses all over it before sitting up between my legs and letting both his hands roam over my skin under the hoodie I wore. It didn't take him long before pulling it over my head together with my shirt under it, seeing I was wearing no bra.
His lips parted and a smile formed on them. " You're so beautiful y/n, shit why didn't we do this sooner." His hand wandered up to my chest, massaging them and playing with my nipples teasing them. I mewled at the feeling and arched my back again. " Mattheo please. I need more."
"Don't have to ask me twice, princess." He opened the button of my jeans and pulled them down. He got rid of his clothes too until we were both only in our underwear.
I looked down and saw how big he was, just trough his boxershorts, making me gulp a little. "Don't worry, I'll go slow. Or do you want it rough?" I nodded quickly. " Rough. Fuck me like - " " Like what?" I gulped again before answering in a whisper. " Like a slut." " Oh you mean like my slut? Because after this you'll go nowhere but to me If you need to be fucked. Understood?" Ahh imagine him saying this ugh
I nodded. "Good girl." he said smiling, his voice and words making me even wetter. His fingers slowly stroked over my slip, making him biting his lip and almost moan. "Feel how wet you are you fucking slut? Wet for your best friend?"
I moaned and closed my eyes as he slipped a finger under the fabric and right inside of me. "Fuck, you're so tight. Nobody fucked you good the last few months huh?" I shook my head as I couldn't form any words. " Yeah that's gonna change from now on." He pumped his fingers a few more times inside of me, putting pressure to my clit with his thumb before pulling down his boxer shorts and my slip.
He pressed his tip against my entrance, looking at me. " Ready?" "Yeah.." I breathed out. He slowly pushed inside me, scanning my face, his eyes a little hooded.
My hands grabbed his hair again as he completely bottomed me out. "Oh yes.." I moaned, closing my eyes and parting my lips.
"You feel so good princess." he groaned and started to thrust inside me fast and rough, not thinking twice If someone outside in the common room could hear the bed hitting the wall. I wanted to say something but every word got stuck in my throat at his merciless fucking.
"What huh? Am I fucking you stupid you little whore? Fuck I love this, how fucked out you already look, not even able to speak." he growls into the air.
The only thing I felt was him inside me, thrusting faster and faster every minute that passed. I couldn't concentrate on anything else beside him. "M-mattheo I'm close.." " You wanna cum baby? Beg me like the little slut you wanted to be."
His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I heard his breathing getting harder. "Fuck, please let me cum Mattheo. Please, I'm begging you." I moan loudly as my walls clench around his cock.
"Fuck fuck fuck.." he groaned, thrusting hard one last time before spilling inside me and circling his fingers on my sensitive clit. "Come around my cock baby." And I did. I did so hard that my vision went black for a moment and his name left my lips over and over again.
"Yeah, love how you almost look possessed. Possessed by my cock." he grins down at me, slowly pulling out of me.
I swallowed and looked at him, mind dizzy." "That was so good Mattheo." I said, trying to catch my breath.
"Oh believe me princess, that won't be the last time. You're mine now."
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I hope you had fun reading, I had so much fun writing this. 😍
Let me know what ya'll think about this hehe. 👀
My Masterlist
xoxo Sarah <3
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stayconnecteed · 3 days
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🪐˓⠀˚⠀i guess i'm in love⠀@⠀kim seungmin.
this is just a cute birthday fic based on the love of my life @skzms and her seungmin's drabble 'seungmin in love', which i totally recommend before you read this. i hope you like it, may, and that i made justice to your words!! i listened to i guess i'm in love by clinton kane while writing this. the beginning of the plot is based on a personal experience! i wish it had ended that way tho askjdhkasjd
SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀4k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.
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You had never mustered the courage to talk to a boy until university made you come out of your shell. The morning you had stepped into the lecture hall for the first time, ready to listen to the dean of your faculty give the introductory talk, you had sat alone in one of the front rows, hanging on every word, your heart racing. You didn't know anyone, and you preferred to focus on the speech, waiting for some extrovert to adopt you, rather than take the first step.
You had always been shy, and you felt a sense of panic at the thought that you might end up alone for the whole degree, but you were incapable of approaching a stranger and starting a conversation. Your fear was a prison and the guardian of an anxiety that swirled in your chest, the number one reason why you had hidden in the same table in the library during all your free hours, and also the consequence of too many bad experiences in the past. 
But then you had met Seungmin.
You hadn't spoken, at least not at first. You hadn't even realised he existed. He was just another classmate in the core subjects shared by all those who studied the same course as you. He smiled softly at the jokes of the teachers he liked, became more serious in the most difficult lectures, and tried not to show his anger when the typical annoying repeat student made their trademark rancid comment. You hadn’t even known his name.
Eventually, you found yourself waiting for those little reactions. Like you, he also showed up ten minutes before the first class started, he also sat alone, and he also came to school with his headphones on, drowning out all the noise in the corridors with the playlist he had made for himself at the beginning of the course. He would arrive with his dark blue backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders, and a book in his hand ーthe same one he would read for a while before the professor arrived. You found yourself smiling as you watched him, writing down the titles of his readings, looking forward to the classes you shared with him.
And then you saw him appear for the first time in the library. You were at one of the more secluded tables, your back to the wall, your laptop a shield protecting you from the other people in the room. And he had slipped quietly in, his ears covered by the black headphones, leaving his backpack on the table in front of yours. For a moment you had stood still, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, the word on your document half-typed, your breath caught in your throat. And then you looked away, and went on with your work. It was stupid to react like that for someone you didn't know.
But the next day your little dance was repeated, sitting opposite each other, in complete silence, a calm and concentrated reflection. As if there was a mirror between the two tables. And the next day, and the next... Until it became a habit. You would leave class a little late because you knew it would take him longer to collect his belongings, and you'd follow each other's shadows with your gazes through the corridors until you reached the library. He would hold the door, and you would smile at him. And when you left him the book you'd used to find out information about a homework topic, he'd return the soft curve in his lips, showing his braces without an ounce of insecurity.
Despite all your little interactions, you hadn't really made any move. The day you realised that there was another girl waiting for him at the end of your class, a more outgoing and prettier one, the kind who always gave the right answers to the teacher. She was asking him if he could explain to her the latest topic discussed in class over a latte in the building's cafeteria. You felt like you intruded, so you left. But that had been the same day you went to the library alone, and you had to open the door for yourself. You missed his smile. And you realised that he was worth every tremor in your hands, only if it meant taking the first step with him.
The next day, you mustered the courage to talk to a boy. To that boy. You approached him before class, sitting one line forward of him, taking a deep breath of air and exhaled it as you tried to keep your nerves under control, your eyes closed. With your pulse racing you had turned, resting your fingertips on his desk, and caught his attention by waving softly. He had looked up from the intertwined sentences of his book, closing it as soon as he saw it was you addressing him, and you enjoyed a few more seconds of your bubble, his brownish gaze all over you, before bursting it.
Your words were quick and breathy, stammering over coffees and shared hours, your gaze anywhere in the class but on his face. Yet he responded calmly, a mask of stillness in contrast to the chaos of emotions spiralling inside him, and you only interrupted the conversation when the teacher began the lesson, Seungmin's gaze returning to your figure every few seconds. That was the first free hour you disrupted your way to the library and accompanied, shoulder to shoulder, your quiet classmate to the cafeteria.
You heard him order an iced americano with syrup, greeting the lady behind the counter with rehearsed confidence, and waiting, tracing his gaze across the profile of your face, for you to say what you wanted. Then he guided you to one of the tables at the back, and let you sit on the bench with its back against the wall. Almost as if, somehow, he knew that it was what you preferred. For a moment  you wanted to get your hopes up, to think that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, but it didn't actually make any sense. So you sighed, and set your bag down beside you, intertwining your fingers in a nervous gesture.
You had been the one to propose the plan, and suddenly you realised that you had been so sure he would say no that you hadn't planned any further.
You wandered your gaze in silence, steadily, slowly, trying not to meet his at any point, your shyness forcing stitches of thread on your lips, unable to utter a word, until the waitress appeared with her tray and your drinks, and Seungmin's raspy ‘thank you’ broke through your bubble. You uttered your own, no sound coming out of your throat, and flashed the start of a smile when he managed to continue a conversation that hadn't existed until then, asking how you had adjusted to the lectures, to college.
And then you let loose like a torrent. The stuttering edges of your lips tightened, answering in short words how your university experience was going, daring even to lock your eyes with his when you returned the question, wanting to hear him speak. And as he told a story similar to yours, albeit with many more friends than you had, you reached your trembling hands towards your cup, taking it and sipping a small amount of coffee.
You tried not to let it show, but the bitterness was enveloping your taste buds in a flavour you were not used to. Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced, swallowing the thick liquid in one gulp, avoiding triggering your gag reflex, and you looked back at Seungmin, who was watching you with a hard stare. He tilted his head, almost like a dog would, and picked up the cup you had just set down on its plate, wetting his lips to taste it. He opened his eyes slightly, muttering a soft, “This is not what you ordered,” and got up to go reclaim it.
You felt the heat rise up your neck and settle on your cheeks, unable to believe what had just happened, and watched from your warm seat as the boy spoke to the woman he had greeted earlier, how she was surprised and certainly apologetic due to the confusion, and the whole process of making from scratch what you had ordered in the first place. It was Seungmin's gentle smile when she returned, treating the porcelain with extreme care so as not to spill the contents, that made you suppress the apology you had thought of saying. Perhaps he had decided that it was his responsibility, that the barista had mistaken the order, but he had done it because he had wanted to. You could read it on his face.
“Thank you so much,” you said, brushing his skin with your fingers as you took the new mug, closing your eyes to smell the sweet, thick hot chocolate you loved so much. “You didn't have to.”
Winter was beginning, and with it the need to drown yourself in cosy blankets, at-home plans and movie classics that had become your favourites over time. So you told Seungmin when you opened your eyes and realised that he was watching you, trying not to retreat into the shyness that had been with you for so long. You were ready to get out of your comfort bubble once and for all, and having a conversation with someone who in your thoughts was no longer a stranger seemed like the natural option.
After that, it was relatively easy. The words flowed between you, asking each other about your lives and replying with more questions, exchanging anecdotes, dropping little jokes that elicited laughter, lost in each other's gaze. As easy as breathing, the minutes passing by on the clock without even being aware of it, learning to read a new language, through what you told each other. Opinions and experiences, comments and compliments, engaged in a dance that only you knew, until the alarm on your phone started ringing, and you realised you were late.
You apologised with hurried syllables, quickly packing up, waving goodbye, heading hastily towards the counter to pay for your drink. You were surprised when the woman indicated that Seungmin had already taken care of it, and you looked back for a few seconds to give him a beaming smile. He mirrored it, leaning against the table you had been sitting at, and waved his fingers in response. It was when you got into the bus, on the way to the restaurant where you had agreed to meet your sister, that you realised you hadn't asked him for his phone number.
Apparently, you weren't the only one to think so.
The morning after your disaster of a first conversation, you arrived early. You sat in the third row, the fourth seat, just like you always did. And you doodled in your notebook, deep in thought, until you heard someone clearing their throat next to you. You looked up, smiling when Seungmin made an exaggerated gesture of wanting to sit next to you, and managed not to burst out laughing at his antics when the teacher came through the door to start the class.
And it was when you were barely able to keep your eyes open, the teacher's voice lulling you into a light sleep, that you noticed the tip of Seungmin's finger brushing your arm. You turned, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine, and instead of questioning what he wanted, you found a sheet of paper folded over the pen that had slipped from your hand. You opened it discreetly, glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of your eye, curious, and didn't bother to suppress the smile that curved your lips as you read a tight “What's your phone number?”.
You wrote it down quickly, going over each digit twice to make sure there could be no confusion, and slid it across the table for Seungmin to tuck it away. You nodded goodbye to him as the bell rang, and you had to part ways, him going to the opposite side of the corridor, to another class. You grabbed your bag, and sighed, not so keen to attend your remaining lecture. At least until at least twenty minutes into it your phone screen lit up, receiving a new notification.
Unknown number: Hey, is it true that Mr Choi’s classes are soo boring?
Unknown number: Or my contact in his classes has shamelessly lied to me?
The contact in Professor Choi's class was you, because you had complained the day before about him, and the unknown number had to be Seungmin. You put the phone under the table, hoping the teacher wouldn't notice and begin to dislike you, and typed in the answer:
You: Mmm, you shouldn’t trust your contact.
You: They wouldn’t be boring if you were here.
Seungmin 🫶🏼: Naah, I bet my classes wouldn’t be boring if my contact could attend them.
You: You can't use my sentence with me.
You: That's like cheating.
Seungmin 🫶🏼: Would it be cheating if I bribe you with a cup of hot chocolate?
You: Whatever you say, lover boy.
You tried to imagine Seungmin's reaction, your subconscious tricking you with images of him blushing in the middle of class, and left the phone in your bag. That interaction had made your day.
From then on, you could only continue to develop your friendship, intertwing yourselves like a tangled vine, unable to separate from each other. The Christmas holidays had distanced you a bit, each enjoying a few weeks of relaxation with your family, but the study period leading up to the exam season brought you back together at that table in the library, exchanging complicit glances and helping each other take breaks when the stress got too much. He was the perfect study partner, and it was reflected in your grades, none of which dropped below a C.
At the end of finals, in those days before the second semester started, Seungmin had invited you to one of the pubs his friends had shown him. He had told you that they hadn't gone because he didn't want them to say anything stupid in front of you, but you hadn't missed them. With a glass in his hand, he had followed you to the dance floor every time you had asked, neck flushed and shy eyes when he saw the alcohol had disinhibited you enough to move your hips freely. It had been a memorable night. And when it struck three in the morning, he was the one who escorted you to your flat, just to make sure you got there safely, and you were the one who begged him to stay with you.
The second semester began with many hours of late arrivals to class 一something you hated, but which was certainly more bearable in his company.
You would gather as soon as you arrived to the faculty on one of the benches by the entrance, he sitting comfortably with his ankle on his thigh, you with your knees against your chest, jumping from conversation to conversation until the bell started ringing, startling you, and you would run up the stairs together, to get to class before the teacher. You learned to cope with it because somehow the stress of being late was compensated by the way Seungmin would touch you so he wouldn't lose you in the corridors. Always behind you, like a guard dog, guiding you to your class with his hand resting on the small of your back, making sure you got in before he wandered off into the crowd in search of his own, in case you didn't share it.
And in the free hours you got to know his friends, or at least some of them. The first time was in a class that was cancelled at the last minute, on your way to the library, when you saw Seungmin's silhouette in the cafeteria, his broad shoulders framing the back of the chair. You greeted the short boy and the one with the narrow eyes with a shy smile, before asking them if they would let you sit next to Seungmin.
You had seen the knowingly smirks, and also their suspicious gazes, but they had made you feel like a long time friend of theirs, so you shaked the creepy feeling out of your body. You stayed silent most of the conversation, listening to their jokes and anecdotes, smiling upon the fact that they treated Seungmin like a brother 一teasing him to death. And from then on you always found a free seat by his side in your gatherings.
Your confidence with them, with Changbin and Jeongin, solidified at about the same time as you accepted that Seungmin just saw you as one of the group, and you tried to stop getting your hopes up. Throughout the semester, you began to participate in conversations with his friends, gaining confidence, and even participating more in class, socialising with classmates and getting to know some girls with whom you thought a friendship could develop. You noticed Seungmin was becoming a bit distant, but with your Friday movie nights and your weekly coffee (hot chocolate for you, he made sure they didn't mess it up again), you assumed he had simply decided that he had other priorities.
At least until the beginning of sophomore year, the night of Minho's birthday celebration. That october night, you had arrived late to the restaurant where the group had decided to hang out in, and the place where you normally sat, to Seungmin's right, was occupied by a freckle-faced blond you had seen around the dorm on some occasion. You greeted Seungmin with a quick kiss on the cheek, a high five with Jeongin, and went straight to the birthday boy, to congratulate him with a hug.
You had spent the whole week crocheting cute fruit-shaped hats for his cats, just because a joke you two had, and Minho's genuine reaction had been to take you in his arms and turn you around, both of you giggling. You remembered that he had told you he couldn't wait to get home to try them on his babies, and you had commented that it was a crime for him to be all lonely on the table on such a special day. With the excuse, you had sat next to each other, leaning like two old oaks so that you could hear each other over the music, your knees touching and his arm over your chair.
At one point, after all the group had gathered, when you had followed Minho's unfocused gaze at Seungmin, his eyes gave off such a hard acrimony that you thought you had done something awfully wrong.
You tried to talk to him about it the next day, when you woke up in your bed, but he wasn't by your side. Seungmin, who normally would be curled up against one of your pillows, had actually slept on the sofa instead, and when you asked him why over breakfast, you got no answer. You could see him building up anger and complex emotions inside, unable to utter a word, trying to decide what to do, before desist and wish you a good morning, leaving you on the kitchen. The absence of that trust you thought you shared broke your heart.
And yet, that very same night he showed up at the university party night that Jeongin had proposed 一Thursdays were his favourite days to go out. He appeared at the pub without even looking at you, as if it pained him to see you, deliberately sitting at the other end of the table. The second time since the two of you had met that you weren't next to each other.
At that moment you ordered the first drink. And they just kept on coming.
You tried not to care. For a few hours, you managed to make it happen. But when that boy approached you, with the soft look Seungmin always gave you, with the same wide smile he reserved for you, you decided that willing to lie to yourself, at least you should get something out of it. So when he pressed his hips to yours, you let him, and when he put his arms around your waist, you allowed it. You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing that his body didn't feel next to yours the way Seungmin's did, and as you felt him slide his hand down the back of your neck, you smiled, kissing him back just as eagerly.
But the spell melted on your fingers as you parted, and you found all the details in his face that made him so different from Seungmin. So you apologised to him, again and again as you escaped his embrace, wandering around the dance floor until you collided with Changbin. He gave you a bright smile, asking you how you were doing with Wonwoo, but the pout that formed on your lips made him react, taking you by your shoulders and interrogating you about the guy, Wonwoo, if he had crossed a line with you. All you managed to do was deny, before asking him to take you home.
It was a terrible night. For you, and for him, who nursed you back to sleep.
And it was also terrible to wake up, when you realised you were alone in your flat. Alone, tangled in your sheets, and the alarm clock ringing, reminding you that you had a schedule to follow, and you had to go to class.
Seungmin was not on your self proclaimed bench when you arrived, though you sat down to wait for him anyway. And when the bell rang you walked up the stairs, slowly, like a soul wandering the corridors of the faculty, ignoring the professor's disapproving face when you interrupted his speech by opening the door. You paid no attention to his words, sittimg down and doodling on your notebook, enduring as best you could the hour that lasted, leaving as soon as you could.
But then you saw him. With his blue backpack slung over his shoulder, and the brown sweatshirt you had stolen from him some chilly afternoons. And you made eye contact with him, but continued on your way. You couldn't face him. All you could think about was the way he had ignored you, as you heard his footsteps, and how you had kissed another boy just because it looked like him. You went down the stairs, the necessity to get out of there bubbling in your chest, wlaking through the doors of the building. You knew he was behind you, but you wanted to be able to ignore him too.
Until you heard him.
“I love you,” he whispered, and you stopped in your tracks, paralysed. He then repeated it, this time louder. “I love you, I’m so sorry but I love you.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned around slowly, utterly convinced that it was your imagination. But his kicked out expression was a reflection of how you felt, brows furrowed upwards, the waterline of his pretty eyes covered by a bubble of unreleased tears, tortured by his absence. And his cheeks were coloured red, flushed with the shame that let you know it was true. Still, he was looking at you with a devotion you were able to clearly see now, like you hung the stars in the sky. All you had once imagined was true, and he was there, waiting for your response.
So you approached him, a shy smile curving your lips, and rested your hands on his shoulders, nodding.
“I love you too,” you murmured, lips moving against his, his breathe hitching. And kissed him. Eyes closed, feeling a sigh slipping in between your mouths, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs while he took you by your waist. And you kept smiling, your chest exploding in relief, savouring him like it would be the last time you would see him.
“I love you too, you jerk,” your repeated, resting your forehead on his.
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carmenized-onions · 9 days
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Loosen Your Grip. | R & D
logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.
[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.
Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!
portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.
possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry
kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!
i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!
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The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—
“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 
—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.
“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!” 
In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days. 
The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.
Gratitude. Highlight reel?
There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.
Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.
 Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.
Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.
It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—
At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today. 
“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.
The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—
Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.
Oh, huge highlight— Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.
With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed. 
Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.
You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.
“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?
The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.
You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…
Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”
You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.
It’s snowing.
That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.
That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.
You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.
…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”
There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.
“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”
You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you’re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.
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“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.
“I got it, T, just spot me—”
“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”
“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”
“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.
“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.
“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”
Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”
“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.
You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”
“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”
“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”
Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”
You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”
Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”
Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?
The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.
“Are you good?”
Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”
You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”
“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”
“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”
“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”
You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”
“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.
“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?” 
You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be. 
“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—” 
“You want the old one?”
Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.
“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?” 
When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”
“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”
He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”
“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”
“...And you want that?”
“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”
A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—” 
“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”
“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this. 
You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic. 
He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”
You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”
The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.” 
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Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be. 
You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.
Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.
“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”
Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”
“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”
“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”
You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”
He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?
“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”
“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”
“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”
He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”
“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.
You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”
“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.
You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”
“So where should I send flowers?”
You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”
“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing. 
“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”
You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”
You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”
Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”
You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”
“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 
Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”
“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”
He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu. 
When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers. 
You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”
Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”
“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.
Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.
With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant. 
You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.
“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”
“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand,  “Sorry, continue.”
Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.
Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”
“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”
The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”
Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”
The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”
You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.” 
You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”
When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?” 
“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”
“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”
“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”
“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”
“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?” 
“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”
“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”
“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”
“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”
“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”
“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”
“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”
“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”
“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”
Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”
“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”
“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.
But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”
“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”
“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 
“Yes. Do less of that.”
And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.
You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.
He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?
You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you. 
“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”
He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells. 
You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”
“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.” 
“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”
Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”
“Cicero.”
“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?
You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”
Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”
“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you. 
“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer. 
“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”
A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.
You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.” 
“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”
“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.” 
“You got somethin’ better?”
“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!” 
It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it. 
You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”
“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations. 
“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”
“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”
“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”
“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”
“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”
“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”
“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”
“A lot high.” He corrects.
“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”
Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute.  Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit. 
He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”
You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”
“Does he now?”
“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”
Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.” 
“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”
Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”
Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.” 
“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened. 
“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’
“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”
“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”
“Your options are fucked.”
“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”
Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.
“What’s the main cost on R and D?”
“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”
“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”
“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—” 
You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”
“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”
Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.
“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”
You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”
You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better. 
“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask. 
“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”
He nods, “Good.”
“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.
But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It  was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”
“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”
“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”
“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”
“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”
“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”
“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”
Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”
You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”
“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”
“A short amount of time, angel?”
“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’
Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—
“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”
Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?
“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.
You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”
Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”
“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”
You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”
“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.” 
“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.” 
“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression. 
“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”
Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.” 
You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”
He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”
Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”
“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.” 
Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”
“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.” 
With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of  the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.
“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”
“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.” 
“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”
Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.
“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”
“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 
“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”
“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”
“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.” 
“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them. 
“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”
A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats. 
“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.
You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”
You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.
Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.
Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass. 
“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while. 
“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”
Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience. 
“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.” 
Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?
“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”
Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?
“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”
And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.
“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”
“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 
You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”
“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t. 
“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”
“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”
“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”
Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”
You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”
“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons. 
A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”
You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”
Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”
“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”
“Dad—”
“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”
“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later. 
Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’
You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms. 
“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”
“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”
“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.
“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”
There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say. 
You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”
“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!” 
“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”
“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—” 
“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”
“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”
“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”
And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.
“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”
You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”
“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”
“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”
That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?
After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”
“Oh, Adamu?!” 
Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.
“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”
“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”
“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”
You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”
She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”
“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”
Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”
“...I’ll do it for eight—”
“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”
She sighs, “Trying to.”
“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”
“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”
Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”
“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.” 
“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”
“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”
The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”
But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”
That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?” 
Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.
“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”
“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad. 
But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”
“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”
“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”
She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’
“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”
Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”
“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.
“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”
“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”
“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”
“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”
“Yeah. Con. Same.”
“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”
Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”
“No shit I wear underwear!”
“Okay! It’s important to note!”
“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.
Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”
“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”
“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.
“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”
“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”
“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.
You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”
“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”
“What the fuck—”
“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already,  you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”
“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”
“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”
“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no. 
You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”
“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”
And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”
“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”
You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”
Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”
“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”
Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”
“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—” 
There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”
Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win. 
“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”
It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”
“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”
“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”
“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”
“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”
“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”
“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”
“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”
“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”
“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”
“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”
“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—
“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”
“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”
Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.” 
And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”
Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”
Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”
“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”
“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”
Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”
You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”
“Crime is bad in January.”
“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”
“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”
“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”
Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”
“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”
And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed. 
“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.
 “Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce. 
Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”
You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”
“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other. 
“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.” 
“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”
“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.” 
Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”
“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”
Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”
And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”
“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”
“Yessir.”
“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.
You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”
“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”
“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”
“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”
“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”
“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”
“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.” 
“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front. 
“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.
You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”
“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”
Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?” 
“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”
You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?” 
“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point. 
“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now. 
“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”
“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together. 
Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?” 
“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”
“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—” 
Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them. 
You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”
“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”
“I could do it.”
“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”
His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”
You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”
“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick. 
You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”
Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.” 
“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing. 
“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”
He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.” 
“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”
“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”
Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”
“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”
Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”
And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”
“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.
“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances. 
Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone. 
You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be. 
The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”
“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”
Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week? 
“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”
“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”
“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”
“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”
Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured. 
He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”
“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.” 
Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”
“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”
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“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting. 
It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece. 
“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”
Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”
He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.
“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”
You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.
“...Has that been here the whole time?”
You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.” 
That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”
“Sounds fucked.”
“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”
Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”
That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”
You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”
“Tricks?”
“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”
You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks. 
“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”
He’s the best? 
He’s the best. 
He’s the best. 
“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.” 
Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best. 
He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.
“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back. 
“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”
“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”
“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”
You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”
Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.
“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”
Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him. 
“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”
Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety. 
All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.” 
He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”
“I’d agree.”
“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them. 
“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.
“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”
And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.
“Come to dinner with us?”
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would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"
was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach
DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!
anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt
oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)
@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant
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