#same same but different down to the grin woo!!!

[timlucys]

Tim & Lucy vs Jake & Sava

[yuyusboyfriend]

⋆ Get On Mic ⋆

pairing: Mingi x gn reader ft. Yunho

word count: 2,3k

content: Mingi likes your, and his best friend's, voice a little... too much and isn't very good at hiding it

warnings/tags: mxm, sub!mingi, dom!reader, switch!yunho, phone sex, voyeurism, possessive mingi, I can't really think of any others, tell me if there's anything else

a/n: just incase, wyd= what you doing ,vc=voice chat, also this isn't proof read so!!! sorry

Mingi: you busy?

You: just finished some work, why wyd?

Mingi: jump on vc lets play, you promised. and the guys miss you

This was the 3rd time this week you had abandoned your 'finished' homework for Mingi. You would've said not tonight as said homework is due tomorrow, but for all the boys? You supposed you could play for a little while.

Mingi had been acting differently for a few weeks, nothing obvious, but you had noticed he had become much clingier with you. "Did one of your anime characters die or something?" you asked the giant that was wrapped around you as you made lunch for the boys.

"Hm? Oh, no, you're just so comfy. This hoodie new?" he grumbled into your shoulder, putting his hands in the front pockets as you tried to maneuver the both of you around the kitchen.

"No it's Jongho's, he said I could borrow it for the day-"

"Wear mine instead." Mingi unravelled himself from you and marched off to his bedroom with purpose, emerging with a hoodie of his own. It was your favourite of his, and he knew it—a tattered grey one that Mingi had owned for years, and he looked so pretty in it; you complimented him on it whenever he decided to wear it. You had actually been seeing it more often these days than you used to.

"Alright Mingi, whatever makes you happy princess" You didn't question his actions; Mingi's clingy days were quite endearing to you if you were honest. He clung to you like a koala to a tree, despite his stature and the fact you could hardly move when he did.

"I'm not a princess y/n,"

"You sure act like one? It's okay to be my princess Mingi, I'll look after you, hm?" Mingi huffed grumpily and slipped his hands under Jongho's jumper to pull it over your head, before realising you weren't wearing a shirt under it. Despite his beet-red face, he slipped his hoodie over your head, and took a step to admire his work; the way you looked in his clothes.

"See that's much better!" He yelled loud enough to smother the noise of his racing thoughts.

"I'm right here Mingi!" You rubbed your ringing ear as he apologised for nearly bursting your eardrum, "You are right though, this does look better. Could you give this back to Jongho when he gets home for me?"

He sighed sarcastically, "Anything for you my y/n." That left you with a weird flutter in your stomach, you weren't used to Mingi using endearing language like that. You wouldn't mind it again, though.

"Thank you, princess!" You laughed and ran away hearing Mingi's heavy footsteps not far behind.

You opened the voice chat to hear Woo and Joong fighting over who got who killed in their last match. "YOU LITERALLY-Y/n! You're here!" Wooyoung yelled down the mic and diverted his attention to you, with a slew of greetings coming through from the boys, Mingi's voice pitching in last.

"You made it," you could practically hear the grin on Mingi's face.

"Here he goes again" Yeosang's voice chimes into the conversation.

"Shut up Yeo."

You look at your screen, confused as to why Yeosang would say that and what it meant; why Mingi's tone had turned deep and icy at the statement, but before you even had a chance to question the situation, Seonghwa beat you to it. "Let's play! San I'm gonna beat your ass."

"We're on the same team??"

After playing a few rounds for a few…hours…the boys finally called a 20-minute break so they could go stretch and raid their kitchen for whatever they had bought on a late-night shopping trip. Well, you thought everybody had gone anyway.

"Y/n?" You almost missed Mingi's hushed voice down the mic, he sounded so soft. You hoped you could go and see the boys after all your assignments were handed in; you missed Mingi's hugs-turned-cuddle-sessions-turned-sleepovers.

"What's up princess, you okay?" your gentle tone sent shivers down the boy's spine. He felt hot when you called him sweet names through the phone, and while he wouldn't admit it to anyone, the way you called him princess got to him. Bad. Like bad in the way that was making him shift in his chair as the fabric on his plaid pyjama pants felt tighter by the second. Fuck, he felt so guilty, letting your sleepy voice get to him like this, but he just couldn't help it. He loved it, he loved the way you made noises when you stretched in your chair, groans slipping out of your mouth-

"Mingi? You there?"

He accidentally huffed a little down the mic, trying to conceal his whimpers as he pressed down into his growing hard-on, trying to gain some friction with the palm of his hand while he answered your worried tone. "yeah yeah,, I'm here. Can you just… talk? Tell me about your day,,, please?" Now that he had started, he just couldn't stop himself from reaching into his trousers now grinding up into his palm through just his boxers.

"Yeah, sure Mingi. So you know that assignment? I actually haven't…." The warmth of your voice spread like wildfires across his burning skin as you told him about… he totally wasn't sure what you were saying. His head was too fuzzy, too high off of your voice that he could barely register your words when he wasn't concentrating.

"Mingi are you okay? You sound out of breath, should I tell one of the guys to check on you-"

"No! No, I'm hh, fine y/n,, c-carry on please" Mingi knew he would get caught any second with the noises escaping his mouth, but he just couldn't help it, he wanted you so fucking bad, he was so desperate for you to just make a move on him after weeks, months of teasing and touching; hell, he had 3 wet dreams and infinite cold showers after he took Jongho's hoodie off your body, his eyes absorbing every detail, curve, scar, blemish, beauty mark—whatever his eyes had access to at that moment.

"Princess. You should've just told me you needed my voice." Busted. You could hear Mingi rhythmically shifting and huffing, his chair squeaking every once in a while. In all honesty, you had caught Mingi doing this a couple of times now, You could always hear the sound of Mingi's hand smacking the base of his cock as he stroked himself to your voice. It lit a heat in your stomach so strong that after the first few times, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from reaching into your underwear and playing with yourself; Slow enough as to not cum on the call but by the time it had ended you'd be writhing and squirming into your mattress. The thought of him taking in your body with greedy eyes any chance he could had your legs shaking as your orgasm hit you like a truck, crying out his name into your pillow.

"Wh- what? What do you mean?" Mingi's movements came to a halt on the other side of the call.

"Mingi, do you think I can't hear what you've been doing? How all of a sudden when it's just me and you, your breaths become heavy? Oh, princess, you're cute." you couldn't help teasing the poor man, you didn't think you had done too much till you heard the giant whimper into his mic, hands moving at a faster pace than before.

"Answer me, baby, tell me what you're doing, please?"

"Ah- I'm… fuck I'm sorry. Just—your voice is so hot, I couldn't help it—ngh" Before you could you heard a phone camera click, followed by a notification on your phone—Oh.

Mingi's veined hand was practically suffocating the base of his angry cock, precum leaking out of his tip. God, it was a beautiful sight that made your mouth water-

"Mingi. You didn't send that just to me…"

Yunho: did you mean to send that to the both of us or should I just pretend I didn't see anything?

Yunho: Either way, Impressive👍

Mingi squeaked at Yunho's messages out of embarrassment, and being kind of turned on at his friend's words.

Right? You like what you see, Yunho? Come join the call again…

You had a sneaking suspicion that they both had a little more interest in each other than just lifelong friends, and while you liked Mingi a whole lot, his best friend was just as pretty. The two of you had also shared some drunken kisses and touches one night after helping a blacked-out Mingi to bed. You wanted to dress them up in matching outfits and parade them around the house-

"Mingi? Y/n?" Yunho cautiously called out your names, his voice more gruff than usual.

"Yunho… help…" Mingi was barely able to get his words out, between the shame of getting caught out, and the way it was making him more needy by the second, his brain felt as though it was becoming mush.

"Mingi, are you really rubbing one out in the call again? You were bound to get caught, this is on you." Ah, so you weren't the only one who had caught onto his antics. To be fair, when it was just late-night calls between the 3 of you, he wasn't sly at all. All the shuffling and coughing to cover up his sounds, and the way he would mute himself for a suspiciously long amount of time with no warning, all to come back with a groggy voice and shallow breaths.

"Again?! Ah-What do you mean again-" Mingi gave up on trying to stop his whimpers and groans between speaking, letting them fall out of his bitten lips.

"Mingi, you could've just told us you needed our help, I'm literally in the room next to yours." Yunho can't help but let out a throaty laugh at the boy's predicament.

"Don't you dare Yunho, if you're gonna touch him then I better be there for it." Your body heat rises at the thought of the two of you teasing Mingi's aching body till he cums for you both. As if Mingi was thinking the same thing, his sweet noises increased with each stroke, one hand reaching up to play with his sensitive nipples. He was so desperate to cum after unintentionally edging himself two times, both of your words mixing with the fuzz in his brain making.

"Guys I don't mean—mean to stop the bickering but—please help,,," Mingi grabbed his phone and threw himself on his soft bed. Since his room was already darkened, the only sources of light emitting from his gaming setup and phone screen thanks to the blackout curtains, he turned the camera on for you and Yunho to see his tired and red face huffing into the darkness.

"Pretty," You heard Yunho whisper under his breath, so quiet you weren't sure if he had meant to say it out loud, but Mingi's little whimper as he rutted against his bed reassured Yunho either way.

"You think so Yunho? You think our princess is a pretty boy?"

"So pretty. Arent you Mingi?" He cried out so loud Yunho could hear him through the wall. He began to beat his cock harder with each stroke slapping his skin louder than the last.

"Oh Mingi, you're so worked up sweet boy, you gonna cum for us?" you whispered sweetly, bringing Mingi closer to his edge.

"Y-yes fuck please I'm so close please keep going" The boy moaned out into the bedsheets, craving his nearing release. He imagined two sets of hands on his aching body, Yunhos larger pair raking across his chest while one of yours grips the surface of his hip, the other dragging up and down his weeping cock.

"Im gonna- I- I need to cum-" You could hear Yunho's breaths becoming shaky and uneven too, the sounds coming from the two almost making you cum untouched at the thought of them getting off to this.

"Yunho, you ready to cum with Mingi? I wanna hear you both cry" You say with a smile, rolling your hips into your pillow.

"Y-yeah, Mingi fuck cum princess" Yunho tried to say in a stable voice, faltering as he and Mingi came into tightened fists, cum streaking against their surroundings. Mingi cried as he spurted white liquid from his tip, what felt like hours of edging coming to an end finally, his orgasm hitting him so roughly he had managed to get cum on his face and the walls from the buildup. Yunhos had been a little less explosive but he had still been desperate for release knowing what his roommate had been up to for so long. After a minute or two of no talking, you checked in,

"You boys okay now?" You approached the situation cautiously.

"Y/n, can you come over? We'll help you with your essay just- please come over?" Mingis's groggy voice pleaded, Yunho carrying on his thoughts.

"I'll pick you up and take you to college in the morning too, we miss you." Maybe it was how soft they sounded in their haze of post-nut clarity, but you really couldn't say no to them.

"I'll be ready in 5 but take your time getting here… Also, I didn't get to cum so are you guys gonna fix that orrrr?" You hear the call end as you finish your sentence and suddenly feel embarrassed.

Mingi: be there in 4.

I'm sorry this is so ass tbh😭😭😭😭 it's done now though thank GOD

[messylustt]

Hii 👉🏻👈🏻 Could you write an Ethan Landry fic where he tries anything too woo the Reader and get together with her even though she has already a boyfriend. Hope you have an amazing day! 🩵

FRIEND-ZONED roommate!ethan landry

he would hate the readers boyfriend so much, but then the reader would like smile at him and his scowl would be gone

contains: protective ethan; ethan lusting over taken reader

step one step two

“HEY! HOPE YOU DON’T MIND, TOBY IS COMING OVER A LITTLE LATER.” You said as you finished eating your breakfast.

You lived in a dorm with Chad and Ethan. There was a mix up, you were meant to be rooming with some other girl. But you gradually didn’t mind being around the boys, and neither did they mind being around you.

Especially Ethan. Once the first week of you living with them past, Ethan became nearly infatuated. Your joyous personality and bright smiles made Ethan days all the more better.

Chad brushed it off as just a fleeting crush since you were a girl staying in their dorm room. Plus Ethan didn’t exactly get much action. But Ethan gradually grew to realise that it was certainly not fleeting. He liked you, but then he found out about your boyfriend, Toby.

He was unimpressed the first time he came over. You had triple checked with Chad and Ethan that it was okay. Chad of course said yes, while Ethan did also, but he certainly wished he could have said no.

Like a normal boyfriend, Toby would visit. You’d usually just stay in your room majority of the time. And Ethan tried not to listen in, or call for you to help him with something when his jaw tightened too much at the thought of what you were doing in there.

Ethan knew he had no right to feel jealous. Toby was your boyfriend, and he was just your roomie. You had announced him as your friend, which of course felt good, but then he’d catch you introducing Toby to others. ‘This is my boyfriend..’

“Of course!” Called back Chad from his room. “Bring him ‘round, I’ve got this new game I wanna try out.”

Ethan walked into the kitchen, seeing you sitting on a stool, wearing a large top…and nothing else. Of course you weren’t like flashing him or anything, but the effect of your bare legs did all the same.

"Morning, Ethan." You smiled. Ethan easily reciprocated it, loving the way your eyes lit up.

Later that day, when lessons and study had finished, you and the boys settled on the couch. You plopped down beside Ethan, who placed his arm around the back. Close enough without meaning anything more.

"Chad maybe don't hit it, and it might start working." You chuckle, watching as Chad got pissed at the tv. Ethan watched you as you grinned. You looked so pretty.

"Did you style your hair?" Ethan asked, suddenly noticing the way it fell differently today.

You turned your attention to him, touching your hair. "Yeah. I wanted to try out something different."

"It suits you." Ethan smiled, and yours widened.

"Thank you."

"Alright, I give up. y/n, fix it." Chad said, glaring at the tv.

You scoff. "I'm no more 'techy' then you." You cross your arms.

Ethan absentmindedly picks some lint off your sleeve, shifting slightly closer to do that. You turn back to Ethan. "Wait." You say, making Ethan meet your gaze.

You leaned slightly closer, and Ethan could smell your strawberry shampoo. "Hold still." You raised your hand to his hair.

A tiny spider had found its way into his curls. Your breath hits Ethan's face as you focused, picking the spider out. You catch Ethan's confused gaze. "Sorry, there was a spider."

"A spider?!" Chad exclaimed, eyeing you.

"A tiny one. No need to freak out." You scoffed as Chad slightly shuffled away. You teasingly brought the spider closer to Chad you backed up, before placing it on the couch.

Ethan grabbed your wrist pulling your hand back to his hair. "Are you sure thats the only one? What if I have a family growing in my hair?" Ethan just wanted to feel your hand again.

You chuckle and sink your hand back into his curls. You shift closer, tilting his face. You had one hand on his chin, directing his head where you wanted. Ethan tried to hold back a smile, but feeling you touching his face and hair, while your body stayed close, made a grin form.

You drop your hand, slightly knocking his head away. "Don't worry, you don't have a spider family living rent free."

Ethan still had that giddy smile present. "Are you sure? We live in the same dorm. What if some of its babies crawl into your bed?"

You hit his shoulder. "I could have left that spider in there."

"You wouldn't have." Ethan let his arm drop around your shoulder. "Your just too sweet."

You scoff. "You say that like it's a fault." Your brows cutely furrowed as Ethan's gaze darted. That's when a knock resounded on the door. You quickly stood, to Ethan's disappointment. He refrained from grabbing your leaving form, because he knew exactly who was at the door.

You shot Toby a smile once the door was open, and he gave you a hug. Chad was busy setting up the controllers for the game, and Ethan was busy watching you both. His jaw tightened, as he watched Toby peck your lips.

Toby then spotted Ethan. "Hey, man." He darted his gaze to Chad. "Oo, new game?" Toby rushed over, taking your previous seat.

Chad then went to explain what this new game entailed as your boyfriend became invested. "God, the minute he's through the door, your taking him from me, Chad."

You rested your elbows against the back of the couch, right behind Toby. Chad just sneakily grinned as you narrowed your eyes.

Ethan shifted his gaze from the game to you. Your hands were rested against Toby's shoulders as Chad and him began the game.

Ethan couldn't help but poke your side gently, earning you to glance at him. He narrowed his eyes on the hands that had been touching him earlier, now touching your boyfriend.

Ethan tilted his head, asking you to sit beside him. You ruffled your boyfriend's hair, before jumping over the couch to sit beside Ethan. Ethan tried not to scowl at the fact that you had touched Toby's hair and not his. But his smile soon returned when he heard you whisper in his ear.

"Who do you think's gonna be more of a sore loser?" You asked in reference to Toby and Chad. Ethan leaned closer to whisper in your ear, placing his hand behind your back. "My bet's on your boyfriend."

You scoff. "That's just because you don't like him very much."

Ethan turned his head, so that he was facing you. You were close and Ethan hated the way his breath hitched. "Why do you think that?"

You raise your brows. "I've never seen you smile at him once. And you always smile at people you like."

"Do I?" You noticed that?—Ethan thought to himself.

You nod. "Do you have some secret beef with him or something?"

Yes. "No."

You narrowed your eyes. "Yes, you do." Your gaze darted between his eyes and Ethan tried not lean in. Your boyfriend was right there—hellbent way too busy, but still there. "What—he steal your lunch, or something?"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "No, he's just not my type of guy."

"He's literally so similar to Chad."

Yeah, with the games, the frat vibes and loud personality. "Then, you should have dated Chad."

"Ew no." You shake your head. "I mean he's cute, but like very much a friend."

Cute? Did you find all your friends "cute"? More specifically, him? Would you say "ew, no" about him too?

"Well, then let's say your boyfriend wasn't in the picture..."

"Is this a dare or something? To see if I really like Toby?" Your eyes widened. "No—or did Toby put you up to this?"

"No, fuck!" Exclaimed Chad, most likely having either died or went off track.

"Toby? No." Ethan scoffed.

"Then what's got you all weird?" You still spoke so sweetly. Ethan hadn't moved his hand from behind your back, maybe even slid it further around you.

"Humour me. Besides Toby, I don't know the sorta guys you like."

You tilted your head, a small realisation—you thought was true—hitting you. "Oh my god. Do you like someone? Are you trying to see what girls like?"

Yes, Ethan thought to himself, I do like someone. Someone I can't have. You quickly grabbed Ethan's hand, and drag him into the slightly hidden kitchen.

You looked giddy, excited for Ethan. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm happy to help."

Ethan wished you were happy to help him get what he wanted. Still, Ethan went along with this small lie. It had gotten him alone in the kitchen with you.

"I don't know why I didn't. I just..." Ethan shrugged.

"Okay, well, who is she?"

Ethan shook his head. "I can't tell you. If she rejects me, I'll be embarrassed."

"Fine." You say, leaning against the counter. "But different girls like different things."

Ethan nods, stepping closer. "Well, whats a general thing that'll "woo" any girl."

You stayed silent, thinking. Chad and Toby's cries of anger and annoyance could be heard from the lounge, but Ethan was entirely focused on you.

"Attention." You nod. "Anyone loves when someone gives them attention. It also means that she'll most likely notice you more."

Ethan moved slightly closer, resting his own hip against the counter. "So, if I just smiled at her and stuff?"

"That, and maybe if there's a project, ask her to be apart of it. That shows her you want her company too."

Ethan nods, paying close attention to the way your lips moved. "And if she still doesn't notice you. Talk to her, ask her out."

"What if she has boyfriend?" The words slip out extremely fast, and Ethan curses himself for being possibly obvious.

"Oh." You say, slightly deflating. "Then, there's not much you can do, I'm afraid."

"Really? Nothing?"

"I mean," you sigh. "You could still talk to her and get to know her. But if she's a good girlfriend you'll know you've been friend-zoned."

And that's exactly what Ethan knew. You had friend-zoned him straight way, leaving him to just pine after you. "Is there anyway to get out of the friend-zone?"

"If she has a boyfriend, it's hard."

"But possible?" Ethan now stood directly in front of you, trying his best to not lean down and kiss you.

"If I'm being honest. You should just talk to her and try. No harm in getting shut down. You can easily tell if she isn't happy in the relationship. And if she isn't, then of course wait till they've broken up, but their's hope for you." Your trying to be supportive, knowing Ethan can be very shy around girls.

"So, if I just told her how I felt. She might shut me down or..." Ethan lets you fill in. What is he looking for to show him that he has a chance?

"Or stay silent. For a while." You say. "It means she actually had to think about it, or get rid of the butterflies in her stomach."

Noted, Ethan thought.

Soon, Toby had lost the game, agitatedly walking into the kitchen. He reached you, pulling you to his lips. You pushed away from his sloppy kiss, tasting the alcohol on his tongue. "Toby, I'm not kissing you while your tipsy."

Toby scowl but leans back. He finally noticed Ethan, who stared at him with a clench to his jaw. Toby had grown to realise Ethan's little crush on you, you stayed oblivious, but Toby had noticed the lingering glances shot your way.

Chad and him had a few drinks while playing, resulting in him being a bit more brazen than usual. Toby gripped your waist a fraction tighter, keeping you close to him, as Ethan's gaze shot toward the action.

Toby went to kiss you again, this one oozing with possessiveness. "Toby." You say, placing your hands on his chest, growing embarrasses by the PDA in front of your friend. "Not here."

"Then why don't you come back to my place?" He grinned.

"Not while you're drunk." You say pointedly, slightly freeing yourself from is hold. When you step back, Toby tries to grab you again, but Ethan gets there first, pulling you to him, while keeping his gaze on the your tipsy boyfriend.

Ethan had tugged on your shirt, until your back hit his chest, making you sightly jolt. "Your drunk, just go home and sober up."

Toby glares at Ethan. "Why are you touching my girl?"

"Okay, Toby, how many drinks did Chad give you?" You ask stepping away from Ethan as you usher Toby to the door.

My girl. Toby's words circled Ethan's head. He hated them because they were somewhat true, you were his girlfriend, but by all means not his.

When you all reached the door, you opening it for Toby. "Head straight home. Don't do something stupid." You said, hoping your boyfriend wasn't too drunk to walk home.

"Come on, y/n. Just come stay at mine, you can bring all your uni shit with you."

Before you could answer Toby, Ethan spoke. "She's fine."

"Really, Toby. Just head home, and I'l call you, alright?" You kept your tone light, a strange tension filling the room.

"Y/n, just come." Toby goes to pull you through the door, when Ethan wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you flush to his side. "She said go home, Toby." And before Toby could speak Ethan shut the door in his face.

"Maybe that was a bit harsh." You say to Ethan, before calling through the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Toby!"

Ethan kept his arm around your shoulder, even when you glanced up at him. You scoff seeing his expression. "I knew you didn't like him, like a lot."

Ethan rolls his eyes, and finally lets you go. Maybe he’d have to execute the plan you had laid out for him on a silver platter.

this may need a part two if I find the time

kisses, holly

🏷️ @jakesully-sbabygirl @emlovesya @netey6m @lullvu @wenvierismycomfort @lilihale23 @urmomlovesliyah @shesoperfectt @dazedmind @ummmmwhatsblog @isabela30 @2683d @kyliemarief @elandrys @aqellano @explosiongamora @jackchampionswife @h-e-y-y @mixed-theater-faisty-tings @imbiafandbored @svmh-1 @moonroamer @wickedmunson @nina357 @h34rtsformilli @pastellixz @bigtittitiffanyy @mistpx @oscarisdaddy69 @dizzyscreams @bungunz @fandom-freak-geek @joemama352 @c78r @igotmajordaddyissues @justanotherkpopstanlol @ily2lia @ethanlandrysgf69 @tesstesla @motusilas @melllinaa @kaamiyato @karslyn @minyiyiii @joce09slay @nooimmaastarr @itlover8000 @imabee-oralizard @petersniya @criesinlies @m-ar-i @radiant-whore @stopnala @babygguk98 @feral4austinbutler @michaelangdonsslut

[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

“you have a daughter?” with single dad! marc pls🥺🥺

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!Reader

Word Count: 2k (we're off to a strong start lol)

A/N: Just opened up my askbox for some requests!

Warnings: fluffy, a little angsty, marc is a bit of a nervous mess bless him

Marc, she’s come to find out, was the guy to take it slow. 

He took his time with her, bought her flowers and pretty necklaces with jewelled pendants that he gave her when he took her out to dinner. 

She’s never been charmed the way Marc has managed to charm her. 

He walks her to her door after taking her out, kisses her cheek and then asks if she’d like it if he kissed her on her mouth. 

The stories her grandmother told her of the dashing, charming men that wooed her off her feet when she was young finally start to ring true to her ears. 

She feels that maybe, after years of looking, she’s managed to find a real treasure worth holding on to. 

She feels that maybe all those ruined dates and talking phases and endless swipes on the dating apps were worth it, if it meant that one day Marc would stumble into her life like he always belonged there. She’d do it all over again, ten times over, to get to Marc. 

Marc, she’s come to find out, is worth close to anything she’s able to give, and he always asks so little from her in return for all he does, as if she was worth all that he gives her and more. 

He’s flurrying about his kitchen now, having banished her to the living room with a glass of wine and a quasi-demand to make herself at home, despite her insistence on helping. Dinner would be ready in just a couple of minutes, he said. He’d already set the table. 

Marc, she’s come to find out, was the guy who liked having things done his way. Found it easier to take on the load himself than to let others help. 

It’s the first time he’s invited her over to his place. The first time that he asked her to have a date night in, with soothing music and soft lights, just the two of them together. 

Marc, she’s come to find out, was an utter, sappy romantic at heart. 

She wonders if tonight will be the night he’ll take her to his bed, she wonders what the brown of his eyes will look like shrouded in desire and lust. 

Her cheek is still tingling from where he’d kissed her, the small of her back warm from the heat of his palm. His cologne lingers in the air. There’s an anticipatory ache in her thighs and she tries to distract herself from it.

Her eyes are wandering, not looking for anything specific except for him, but because she’s scared that would be too weird, she looks out the window. She’s soaking in the view of the London skyline, dingy and dark from the near consistent rain they’ve had all week. 

In Marc’s place, she barely feels a shred of the cold seep into her bones. There are only warm, yellow lights on, nothing too direct. She might as well be looking at a hyperrealistic painting. 

She goes to set her glass down when her eyes fall on the picture frames, hung up beside the window. The wood is stained a deep brown that reminds her of Marc’s eyes, as all brown things usually do. 

She hadn’t meant to pry, but now her curiosity has been stoked to life. The oven timer goes on and off, there’s a waft of something savoury as he opens and shuts the door. 

The girl is too similar to Marc to be able to pass it off as a niece or a coincidence. The same head of dark curls, matching noses and bushy, unkempt eyebrows. She’s sure this is what Marc would have looked like, when he was a child, had he been a girl. 

There’s a picture of her as an infant, still in the hospital and in a younger Marc’s arms, dark circles under his eyes and a nervous smile on his face. It’s the unmistakable traces of new fatherhood, she feels as if she’s seen thousands of pictures just like it, the same words, in different handwritings. 

First day of school, mile-wide grin, heavy, sombre eyes from her father that were jarring against his smile. The girl’s pulled tight into his frame, Marc seems to be holding on to her as if she were a shadow. 

Eyes flitting up and down, she takes in the rest of them. Days at the beach and nights at home. Milestones stacked on top of each other. Dance recitals, a small bouquet of roses clutched in her hands, held proudly in Marc’s arms. 

They even grinned the same way. 

Marc’s daughter was well-loved. 

Happiness like that could never be faked. 

She drifts back towards the kitchen. Marc’s curls, normally neat and tamed back are loose and carefree now. 

He tugs on them when he’s nervous. Gives them two or three harsh pulls before drifting down to rub at the skin of his neck, exhales a nervous breath. 

She’s underestimated the effect his presence can have on her. There are drawings on the fridge, drawings she hadn’t noticed, not until now. 

She feels as if her lack of attention should be justified. Marc is pretty. Pretty in a way that makes her breath hitch, her head somersault on itself. She’s always a little tongue-tied during the first few minutes of their dates. 

She knows now that it wasn’t just because of his little belly that tucked out comfortably when he sat down, or the crooked angles of his nose. Tenderness and patience radiates out from inside him, the kind people usually only get when raising children with love. 

The thud of his knife against the cutting board, slicing through lettuce and cucumbers is comforting. Though she’d made him promise not to go all out, not to bother himself too much for the dinner, Marc has done exactly that. 

“Hungry?” 

“Hm?” There’s a dog in one of the drawings, a cat in the other. 

“Just gotta finish the salad.” 

She knows that it’ll be fruitless to offer to take anything to the table. She wants to ask him if he’d like some wine and is instead surprised by the words that flow out of her mouth. “You have a daughter?” 

He freezes. A cucumber slides off his knife. It may have well been a scene out of a sitcom. She would have laughed, had it not been for the hold Marc already had on her heart. 

She keeps her gaze steady on him, watches intently as he sets down his knife and looks at her. 

There’s nothing she can tell from the expressions in his eyes, the hardened tilt of his mouth. She’s come to accept that it will take months before she’ll feel confident in reading the man in front of her, one who spoke so much with his body. 

If she gets to take months to learn his language. 

It’s an unpleasant little tumour of a thought. She swallows to apologise, to grab at whatever the string was that has managed to tie her tightly to Marc and make sure it stays there. 

His throat bobs up and down. Marc speaks before she gets the chance to, “Yeah, I have a daughter.” 

“What’s…” she wonders if it’s appropriate to ask, and the question dies on her lips. 

“Maya. She’s seven now.” 

Maya. She rolls the word around her head like a marble, tries to connect it to the photos and drawings hung up around the place. “She looks just like you.” 

He laughs, an awkward, fumbling thing. It’s like a flat ball. “We get that a lot.” 

“Well, it’s true,” she smiles and tentatively reaches for his hand. It’s a little rough, a little wet from the freshly-washed vegetables; she wonders if he would like it if she bought him some cream, something with glycerin. “And you’re both very beautiful.” 

He pauses, emotions fighting on his face until he settles for steering the topic away from him, “You really don’t mind?” 

“Why would I?” 

He shrugs, casts his eyes away from her. The pressure of his hand in hers fades ever so slightly and she stumbles forward to make sure it stays. 

“I don’t mind,” she swallows, rounds over the counter so she comes to stand beside him and looks up at him. “I really don’t. And I’d love to meet her, whenever you think it’s time.” 

There’s a familiar expression in his eyes, one that she’s able to figure just from the sheer amount of times he’s looked at her with it on. 

“I don’t lie about these things, Marc.” She leans up and kisses his cheek, squeezes his hand at the same time. “And I understand why you didn’t tell me sooner.” 

He pauses, mouth hardened into a firm little line, “You like kids?” 

She nods. There’s the footprint of her lips on his cheek, a faint brush of rusty pink that plants a little seed of possession inside of her. 

“Good.” His voice is gruff, serious like a boulder of sandstone. 

“Sorry for springing it on you like that, I saw the photos and-” 

He shakes his head, his free hand comes to rest on her waist. Water seeps into her clothes and onto her skin and she revels in the feeling of it, a physical trace of his touch on her. 

It amazes her how quickly he can quiet the static inside her mind. “I meant to tell you tonight.” He sighs, his breath rolling over her face, a stitch forming on his forehead. “Forgot about the pictures.” 

She presses away the stitch, smiles and delights when he smiles back, retracted and tight, the corners of his eyes wrinkling like well-loved and sunkissed linen. 

His phone starts to ring, turns their soft bubble into shattered ice. The grimace returns to his face, “Sorry.” 

The cadence of his voice is soft, soft in a way that’s never been directed at her, when he answers the call and goes into his room, “Hey baby…” It sounds like honey, syrupy and nutritious, she feels if she listens hard enough she can hear the gentle hum of bumblebees underneath. “I miss you too.” 

She’s finishing the salad when he returns, cutting the rest of the vegetables the way he’d started and hoping that she’d done a good enough job. 

His gaze falls back to her hands, “Sorry.” 

“Nothing to apologise for,” she slides everything off the cutting board and into the bowl, sets everything aside and comes close to him. “Is she alright?” 

“Yeah,” his fingers are tentative as they reach for her again. Her hands come on top of his and press down. A never ending cycle of reassurance. “She’s at my cousin’s. Told her to call before she goes to bed.” 

The thought that he has the place to himself tonight makes her stomach flip-flop on itself. 

She dares to cup his face between her hands. She’s never done it before and finds the feel of his clean-shaven skin addicting, “You’re a good father.” He stiffens in her arms but doesn’t move out of them. The picture of young Marc in the hospital with his daughter rises again in her mind, “Thank you for making me dinner.” 

He frowns, eyebrows furrowing together like two fuzzy caterpillars, “You haven’t fuckin’ eaten it yet.” 

It makes her laugh, and she lets him go, kisses him on his pouty mouth. The way he moves is like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. 

He’s all business now, rushing about the kitchen to finish the food. Her eyes fall back to the drawings, flit over to the curly head of his hair, “Do you want some wine, Marc?”

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond to, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here, requests here.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Number 13 with JJ please🥹🥹🥹

‘‘Was it a good weird or a bad weird? Because that’s two totally different things.’‘ 

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

During a drunken evening at the boneyard, you and JJ crossed the friendship lines and now you didn’t know what to do. A part of you wanted to bring it up, but another wished it never happened. Besides JJ’s lips on yours and the sand that fell from your shirt in the morning, you couldn’t recall much from that night.

Sarah’s jaw dropped when you told her and Kiara gasped, not expecting this kind of juicy story this early on a Sunday. ‘’You kissed JJ?!’’

You kept your eyes down and played with the tassel of your decorative pillow. ‘’If my memories are correct, yes.’’ It was your first time saying it out loud and you felt like throwing up. Or, maybe that was your hangover.

‘’How did it happen?’’ Sarah asked with a curious grin, begging for the whole story.

‘’Did he try to woo you with his terrible pick up lines? Or tell you that fake story about how he got the shark tooth?’’

Sarah laughed. ‘’The one he tells all the tourons?’’

Kiara nodded, joining Sarah with the laughing.

If you hadn't been so anxious about the whole situation, you would’ve laughed too. It was known among the group that JJ’s flirting techniques were terrible. You all wondered how girls fell for his shit when it was so obvious that he was lying to get them in his bed.

‘’I don’t know!’’ you said in complete honesty, your memories a complete black hole. A sigh left your lips. ‘’We were drunk and he was there and suddenly— I don’t want that stupid kiss to ruin our friendship. I care a lot about JJ and I can’t lose him over a drunken mistake.’’

The girls’ faces softened, realizing how upset the kiss made you.

‘’Don’t think too much into this, okay? It’s JJ,’’ Kiara reminded while Sarah pulled you in a hug. ‘’He was probably just as drunk.’’

‘’Maybe he doesn't even remember,’’ the blonde added. 

A few days passed and neither you or JJ brought up the drunken kiss. He definitely remembered, though. Every time you were in the same room, his eyes averted yours.

You tried to not let the new distance between you and JJ ruin the whole group dynamic, but something was off and everyone could feel it. You had only told the girls, but John B. seemed to be suspecting something.

‘’I'll go with,’’ JJ suggested, moving to get out of the twinkie, trying to get away from being alone with you.

John B. stopped him. ‘’No need. I have two hands. I don't need another two more to carry beers and a bag of chips. I'll be quick.’’

You both sat in silence in the twinkie, waiting for John B. to return. Silences were never uncomfortable with JJ, but this one was the longest and heaviest silence of your life. Maybe you should have walked to the chateau instead of accepting to be picked up.

‘’Hey, Y/N?’’

Your heart jumped in your chest when you heard JJ’s voice. You composed yourself and turned your head toward him over the front seat.

JJ continued. ‘’You know the other night at the boneyard? We got kinda drunk and...something weird happened with us.’’

‘’You mean when we kissed?’’ you said, purposely using the word he was avoiding. ‘’You can say the word, J, you’re not going to get cursed.’’

‘’I know.’’ He looked down, nervously fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. ‘’It was just weird.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ you agreed. ‘’It was weird for me too, but…’’ You shifted seats, sitting behind the driver seat so there was less space between you and JJ. His left arm was resting on the backrest and you played with one of his bracelets. ‘‘Was it a good weird or a bad weird? Because that’s two totally different things.’‘ You flicked your eyes up, hoping to meet JJ’s, but he was still looking down.

‘’No. Not bad weird.’’ His chest heaved as he breathed, his bottom lip caught with his teeth.

You leaned in and he lifted his head, his face — and lips — only a few inches from yours. You wanted to touch him again, and taste his lips again.

You thought this would be it, that he would close the space between you, but JJ's breath hitched as he started to freak out. ‘’What are we doing? We shouldn't be doing this.’’ He turned his head to face the window, away from you. 

‘’Don’t do this. Please.’’ You grabbed his arm, refusing to let the conversation ends. ‘’I know you push people away and freak when people get close, but don’t push something away just because you’re scared. I’m scared too, but life — and love — is living in spite of those things that scare you to death because something beautiful and fucking amazing could come out of it.’’ 

Your words seemed to have gotten through him because he turned again, a veil of fear over his face. Love — whether it be loving someone or being loved — was not a concept JJ was familiar with. He grew up without the love of a parent — a child’s primary source of love —, receiving a shower of hatred and occasional kicks and punches instead. You couldn't blame him for pushing people away and being scared of feelings. It's new to him, and everyone gets scared when they have to deal with something new and foreign.

 Fortunately for him, you were there to show and teach him a side of life he never got to experience.

You leaned over the seat, about to connect your lips with JJ’s, but John B. opened the door, snapping you and JJ out of your moment.

‘’I couldn't find the brand of chips you liked, so I picked something else—’’ He glanced between you and JJ, noticing how close you were. ‘’Am I interrupting something?’’ 

—

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[dbnightingale24]

You Didn't Have To Say Yes...

A Pete Brenner Love Story

~~

My first Patreon story!! I decided that Pete needs a love story, cause I feel like he gets shit on a lot. He's not a bad guy, he just has some...bad habits.

Thank you to everyone for your patience (once again), and I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for my amazing moldboard! I love it and I love you! I wrote this in a week (I don't know what's going on with my brain as of late), and I'm really excited for it!

Word Count: 49,380

Warnings: Pete Brenner, Smut, MINORS DNI 18+, Swearing, Daddy Kink, Drinking, Smoking, Drug Use, Angst, Self Hate, Semi-Public Sex (fingering), Open Marriage (Toxic Relationship), Abuse, Fluff, Family Drama, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Abortion ...I think that's it? I'm pretty sure I covered all the bases...yeah

Songs That Inspired This Chapter: If You're Feeling Down, I Just Wanna Make You Happier Baby

Summary: Pete Brenner is perfectly fine with everyone continuing he's a selfish piece of shit. That is, until you walked into his life, and turned everything upside down.

~~

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

“C’mon, give me a smile,” Pete beams, his words tailing a slight slur as you make someone else’s Manhattan.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Mr. Brenner,” you giggle dismissively, flipping your hair and shaking up the cocktail mixer.

“I wonder how much sweeter my name would sound if you were underneath me,” he grins and lifts his eyes at you. You ignore the heat in the pit of your stomach, not wanting to surrender to his smarmy charm.

Pete Brenner doesn’t give up easily, you’ll give him that. 

“I’m sure your wife is happy that you’re always here, trying to bring me home instead of spending time with her,” you nod with a glance towards his left hand. A waitress comes over, picking up the next round of drinks.

“I’ve told ya, she has her fun and I have mine.”

“Cause that’s what every woman loves to hear. Woo me even more, Brenner,” you laugh, turning around and getting started on the next drink.

“Your ass looks amazing in those shorts.”

You laugh as you call over your shoulder, “I’m ordering you a cab.”

“I can take myself,” he mutters with an exasperated sigh. You know he’s pulling out his wallet, frustrated that you’re not leaving with him again.

“We go through the same motions every time, Pete. I don’t want you driving home drunk.”

“You refuse to sleep with me, but you care about my well being? I think you’re finally startin’ to warm up to me.”

“I don’t sleep with married men, Pete. Find a new dream to chase. You know the drill, the cab will be here in ten.”

Pete Brenner came stumbling into your life about a year and a half ago, and he’s been a character since day one. He was down on his luck, drinking until he could barely stand, refusing help from anyone, always ending with the same mantra every night:

“I’ve made this fucking far on my own, I can make it to my own fucking house!”

No matter how much you pushed, he wouldn’t accept help from you. He always refused service from everyone except you. At first he didn’t say anything, he just watched you and let his eyes roam over your body. He never said out loud that he wanted you, but he didn’t exactly go out of his way to hide it either. He was so obvious he never needed to say it explicitly. The glint of his gold wedding band always caught your attention under the sparkling lights of the nightclub, but seeing as he spent every night there until closing, you didn’t think it made much of a difference.

Until one night, eight months ago.

“There she is! My favorite girl!” he beamed, a cocky smile cemented on his lips.

The woman sauntering next to him didn’t seem to think too highly of the nickname he called you. 

“I’ll take a bourbon, and this sweet little thing next to me will have a Strawberry Daiquiri,” he told you, though his eyes never left your chest.

“Oh? Wedding anniversary?” you half smiled as you tried to put on your workplace happy face even though you mentally thought to yourself ‘he can’t be that sleazy to bring her to this dump on their wedding anniversary.’

“Got a new job, sweetheart,” he smirked. You didn’t miss the mischievous shine in his eyes in the club’s half light.

He was a bold mother fucker to bring his wife along just to flirt with you in plain view of her. Not many men had that much audacity when it came to you. 

“I’m Y/N,” you offered with a smile.

You genuinely pitied the woman.

“Tina,” she responded with a plastic smile.

Big boobs, micro-waist, big fake blonde hair, and Pete had ordered her a strawberry daiquiri. She fit the description of most “Tina’s” that came into the club. However, the large rock on her ring finger was nothing to scoff at.

“Oh, don’t pout, honey,” Pete taunted her. “This is what you wanted, right? Me to get a brand new important job and show you off? That’s what you’ve been bitchin about for months, isn’t it? So smile, would ya? You got ya wish.”

Someone was feeling prickly that night.

“First round of drinks are on the house. Congrats, Pete,” you smiled as you set both drinks down.

“Keep ‘em comin’, sweetheart,” he winked at you, handing you a hundred.

While it may have not been anything new to you (Pete always tipped generously), Tina’s eyes went wide and you didn’t miss the way her cheeks burned and blushed with anger.

You wanted to stay as far away from them as the night allowed.

You happily took shots with some of your regulars as the night went on and evened out. Your friends started showing up for their shifts, which helped your sour mood from earlier in the day (even though your ex-fiancee showed up outside of your apartment to harass you yet again). The more you drank, the more you started to dance along with the music; which meant Pete couldn’t keep his gaze off you.

“Why are you single?” Pete asked once his wife got up to go to the bathroom.

“You don’t strike me as the cruel type, Mr. Brenner,” you grinned as you made him another drink.

“Curiosity doesn’t equate to cruelty.”“You’re still here with your wife.”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

“Why’d you bring her tonight?”

“You heard me, this is what she wanted,” he cynically scoffed.

“They’re a lot nicer clubs than this one.”

“Can’t all be that nice if you don’t work there, sweetie.”

You both looked at each other for a moment before you heard, “Darlin’!” coming from the other end of the bar.

“Comin’ Charlie,” you laughed, breaking the stare with him, and shook your head. You used the bar to push yourself off away, down to it’s other end while Pete sipped the last of his remaining drink.

You didn’t need glasses to see that Pete Brenner was an attractive man, and he was important...well, he did his best to imply his importance (as if it would get him far with you). You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about going a few rounds with him in the bedroom, but you didn’t sleep with married men. 

No matter how hard they tried, you had a set of both personal and professional rules that you abided by.

For the rest of the night, you stayed away from Pete and his wife unless they needed a refill. It was almost as if Tina was trying to make him regret his choice of celebration because she was throwing back her drinks like they were water. The night went smoothly enough, nevertheless, until you went outside for a smoke break.

“You should really quit those things,” came the voice of the last man you wanted to see or hear from.

“What do you want, Mark?”

“I come in peace, Sweet Thing,” he laughed, putting his hands up.

You’d always hated the nickname.

“Didn’t get enough arguing this morning? What else could you possibly have to say?” you questioned while you exhaled your frustration.

“You know you miss me, baby.”

“I miss the peace I had in my life before I met you.”

“You’re still working at this dump?”

“I have bills to pay.”

“You know I’d be more than happy to take care of you.”“Don’t want it. Nor do I want anything from you,” you snapped with a growl.

“Yet you drove yourself here in the car I bought for you,” he sneered, nodding in the direction of where the car was parked.

“Take the fucking car back then, Mark. If it means you’ll leave me the fuck alone, take back every single thing you ever gave me.”

Snickering, he made his way to you and grabbed your arm saying,“don’t be bitter when I know just how sweet you’re capable of being.”

With a scoff, you threw down your cigarette and bludgeoned it, “fuck this.”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Enough with the goddamn attitude, Sweet Thing-”

“Let me go!”

“You’re coming with me-”

“Let her go!” you heard Pete yell as he quickly made his way over to you, leaving his wife to stumble to their car all alone.

She looked slack jawed from Pete to you, before her stare turned venomous and settled on you. It’s just what you needed on top of everything else; his prized Barbie play-toy thinking you were fucking her husband. 

Great.

~~

Read the rest of the story here

[sanjisboyfie]

halloween with the strawhats !

little headcanons i have for halloween !! ! ! ( a a couple days after )

male reader, platonic pairings, straw hats are just a cute lil friendgrouip + don't ask me why zoro and luffys are so short, i don't know why either. i think they just got longer the more down the list you go sooorrryyyyy

also more so modern???au

— luffy definitely wants to do a group costume, something silly and fun. he tries his hardest in convincing everyone to get on board with the idea, but it seems like usopp and chopper are the only ones hearing him out </3 luffy would try hitting you with the puppy dog eyes, but you were already committed to your costume for a while so you had to reject the poor boy.

"b-but, [name]!!!" it was obvious the man was putting on his best whiny voice, elongating every syllable in your name just to sway you. he was also rocking the both of you back and forth in a hug to woo you over in joining his group costume. "it won't be the same without you dressed up with us!"

"luffy, i already decided my costume much earlier in the year, i'm sorry," you said, petting down his raven hair with an apologetic look on your face. but your words only sullened his mood further and made the pout on his face turn into an outright frown.

"but, [name]!!!" luffy began shaking you even more roughly, turning you into a bobble head figure basically. you couldn't do anything to break out of his strong grip and just had to take his torment with a smile.

"i'm sorry luffy," you said softly, runnng a hand up and down his arm to comfort him.

"i don't forgive you!" luffy childishly whined, releasing you from his hold and walking off to a different aisle in the halloween costume store. "whatever, you're the one missing out!"

"i believe you, luffy," you called out, laughing when you heard him grumble under his breath and stomp in annoyance.

— zoro definitely has a lazy ass costume, mainly because he thinks the holiday is a silly thing for children (usopp, luffy, and chopper all lectured him on how it wasn't like that at all). i'm thinking he jsut wrapped himself in toilet paper and said he was a mummy, also using his costume as an excuse to just speaks in grunts and groans to everyone else.

"zoro, could you pour me some more punch!" you had politely asked him as he was closest to the juice bowl. he simply shook his head with his arms crossed over his wrapped chest, giving you a firm, "arrhhggh,"

"zoro, what?"

"uurghghruuhg"

"okay, fuck you too,"

— nami is invested in making some money off of the holiday!! she's committed to it. she has a really pretty costume planned out and forces everyone to participate in a costume contest with a submission fee of 50 bucks, even though it was just your friend group participating. either way, she decides that the winner of the contest gets all the profit. so she wins - obviously in a non-rigged way - and cheers in victory. but even with all of her focus being on getting some cash out of the holiday, she does compliment your costume and slide you a couple bills.

"hm, i was scared you were gonna beat me, y'know?" she mused, looking at you with a mischeviously look on her face, "because i really like your costume, [name]! you look great!"

you grinned at the compliment, "thanks, you do too! and that's why you won, you have the best costume. plus, sanji would have never let me won that prize since he knows how badly you wanted the reward,"

she playfully rolled her eyes at the mention of the blonde, "yeah, well, sanji doesn't have to know about this then," she said, pulling some bills out from her pocket and putting it into your own. "next year don't expect this treatment though! i was feeling generous just now,"

you smirked, taking the cash from her happily and watching as she joined robin's side.

— usopp is the life of the celebration. he is the best story teller of horror stories, even if he himself gets scared of his own made up tales. he brings everyone into the center, under a huge blanket fort and tells the scariest story known to man. but when he reaches the climax, luffy suddenly pops his head into the enclosed space, loudly asking if anyone else wanted food, and completely threw usopp off of his game. the poor man let out a loud girlish scream and jumped into your lap to hide from luffy's grinning face.

"and then when the killer," usopp took a deep breath, looking at everyone's face individually, "finally came knocking on poor little billy's door, he was greeted by the sight of-"

"oh!! i'm getting more food from the kitchen, do you guys want anything?!" luffy had got up for a bathroom break earlier and completely ruined usopp's horror story. his make-up drenched face pushed the blankets aside and completely surprised everyone in the fort. especially usopp.

usopp jumped off of his sitting position and into your lap, hiding his face in your neck for some comfort. he was practically crying and whimpering from fear, eyes screwed shut as he refused to look at the demon (luffy) that was there to terrorize him and his friends (ask if they wanted more food).

"begone, demon!! begone!!" usopp pathetically cried out, also not even looking up at the supposed demon to condemn them.

"usopp, it's just luffy-"

"demon! demonic activity! demon!!!"

— chopper really enjoys the nature of halloween despite being scared very easily. while the place is in an uproar of just ultimate chaos, he's very kindly giving out candy to whoever comes by. unfortunately, not everyone that comes around is dressed in peaceful, cute costumes.

just as you were pouring another drink for zoro. there was a loud, girlish scream that was coming from the front door. the green haired man took the drink for himself, grunting at you. you could only guess what he meant by that.

but you didn't dwell on it further, moving to see what was at the front door. and lo and behold, there was chopper stiffly standing in front of someone in a freddy krueger costume.

"ah, sorry, he scares easily," you explained quickly, resting a hand on chopper shoulder and asking if he was alright. seeing that his shaking eyes were still trained on the figure, you decided to take the candy bowl from his hands and protectively stand in front of him.

even though this guy definitely didn't pose any harm to chopper, it would make the scared guy feel better (probably) to have a physical barrier between the two.

"here, have a good halloween," you said with a smile, making the freddy krueger nod in appreciation and then walk off of the porch. when they were gone, you closed and locked the door behind them and turned to chopper with a grin.

"c'mon man, they were just in costume," you teased, relieved to see chopper was out of his fearful state and instead blushing in embarassment.

"freddy was a scary guy!!" he argued, but it only made you pinch his cheeks in a harmless way.

"right, right, well you were very brave just now chopper,"

"of course i was!!!"

— sanji is dressed up as a prince and goes around proclaiming his loyalty to robin and nami the whole night. he becomes more playful, though, so he doesn't really give you guys (literally, the guys) a hard time. if anything, he joins in the shenagians and lets loose a little bit. one of the rare times you get to see sanji being a mischevious little shit.

"bleh! who put salt in the cupcakes instead of sugar?!"

cue sanji giggling behind his hand and shooting you a knowing look. you laugh with him, fist bumping him under the table while he watched luffy run around and wash his mouth under the kitchen sink.

"why is the frosting sour cream?! sanji, i'm gonna beat your ass up!!"

zoro chases after sanji, those being the first coherent words he says the entire night, mind you. and now they're both running in circles around you. sanji is laughing his ass off while zoro is spitting out globs of sour cream at him.

"sanji!!! why did you pout bittermelon in the stew this tastes like ass!"

"oh! i'm sorry, [name], that was supposed to be for franky," sanji apologized, going through the cabinets and finding some stew he put in the tupperware. it was still hot, you could tell from the bottom of the container.

"why are you so mean to them today?"

"i can just get away with it by sying it's a ghost," sanji shrugged, half-assedly answering your question. "besides, don't you think it's funny?"

"it is, but sooo heartless," you laughed, making the blonde nod his head in acknowledgement.

just as he was about to say something else, there was another shriek coming from the living area, "sanji!!! this isn't strawberry glaze, this is hot sauce!!!"

"why are you yelling for me, it was the ghost!!" sanji shouted back, making the both of you collapse on each other in laughter.

— robin enjoys how everything is so lively during halloween. she loves the spookiness, the decorations, the horror movies!!!, she just loves everything about the holiday. it's a genuinely fun time of the year for her so she just loves to take it easy with you guys.

robin was slumped against the sofa, chuckling at the way chopper and usopp shrieked at the character on the screen killing another person. it was a classic slasher film she suggested and no one had a problem with it, except for usopp and chopper being scared straight through their teeth.

meanwhile, you and robin were enjoying the movie with grins on your faces. you'd sometimes feed her popcorn, her doing the same for you, and then you'd both laugh quietly whenever usopp and chopper started getting really spooked.

after the movie, you and robin reconvened in the kitchen to get more refreshments. you were talking about the movie, chatting in good nature.

"i don't know, i still think stu macher is the best ghostface," you said with a smile, "billy is the one people always talk about, but stu is my favorite,"

"well, maybe the best ghostface, but i don't know about best slasher," she said in amusement, "i like jason,"

you grimaced, "really? his mask is so creepy,"

"that's why, his character is cool," robin shrugged, taking a cherry from the platter of eating it with a hum, "also, the movie was good, i liked it,"

you grinned, ruffling her hair as she shot you a mischevious grin. her affinity towards slasher, or any horror, movie was known amongst the friendgroup. she enjoyed the rush scary movies gave watchers.

"remind me to never cross you, who knows what you might do," you joked, making her scoff and lightly jab her finger into your side. she allowed you to rest your arm around her shoulder, the both of you walking back to the living room with a big bowl of popcorn and tray of drinks.

— franky is a big decorations guy. he makes everything so festive!! plus he goes all out. don't ask him why he decided to put a fake skeleton in the shower, he'll just respond that it was his creative vision and it was a good one too. you appreciate his dedication to the holiday, although you do wish you could just walk around the house without fearing for your life at hyper realistic decorations all around.

when you first arrived to the party, you told franky you were going to drop something off in the bedroom of brook. it was some prop he was asking for his performance coming up.

you were supposed to just drop it off in his bedroom. but why was it that after you turned around from brook's bedside table, there was a figure in a scary mask standing behind the door and staring right at you. you were about to scream before the figure suddenly fell ont he ground, showing that it was just a paper cut out.

"franky!! what the fuck!!" you shouted in frustration, stomping out of the room and going to give the man a piece of your mind.

but as you were walking out of the room, and into the hallway, a figure jumped out of one of the many open doors and scared the shit out of you. this time your fist shot out and nailed the masked figure in the face, making them fold over and hold their nose.

"c'mon [name]!! what the hell!!"

"no, franky, what the hell at yourself!!" you screeched, seeing the familiar face after he took off his mask. you fretted over his face, apologizing over and over again at him. "i'm so sorry, but - seriously what was that thing in brook's room!?"

"it's called a halloween decoration, asshole!" franky cursed, holding onto his nose.

"yeah, and i thought that someone was there to kill me! why'd you put shit in his room anyway?"

"to scare you, obviously!" franky said, allowing you to examine his face and wincing when you saw the damage that was done. "sorry for scaring you,"

you softened at his apology, lightly tugging on a strand of his hair and murmuring an "i'm sorry, too." he grinned at your apology, smiling ear to ear as he assured you he'd be fine.

"they were scary, i'll tell you that," you said, standing the both of you up and guiding him to the sink. but he shook his head, nursing his nose with his hand.

"you know how many time i've broken my nose, this is just a scratch. didn't even make my nose bleed," franky assured you, laughing as you realized that what he was saying was true. how many times franky has broken his nose when he'd been working was uncountable.

"yeah, let's just forget it happened then," you said, making franky hum in approval.

"oh! but don't tell zoro about that thing up there, i plan on scaring him too,"

you laughed, nodding your head and deciding that it would be funny to hear zoro scream out in fear.

— brook is another person that like robin, enjoys anything horror related. he hides around corners or in closests and waits to make someone his victim. and if it isn't anyone in your friend group, he will go around terrorizing the trick or treaters.

"boo!!!"

"ahhh!!!"

there was a scream that followed brook's and then a parent could be heard yelling at him. the rest of the strawhats all ran to the window to see what was happening and everyone winced when they saw a parent was easily chewing out brook for hiding in the bushes and scaring their poor child.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair and walking over to the front door to collect brook since everyone else was too busy laughing their asses off at his predicament.

"ma'am, i'm sorry for his behavior," you started, walking up to brook and taking ahold of him by his elbow, "i'll just bring him inside,"

"no! i'm not done yelling at him yet!"

"have a lovely night, ma'am," you said, turning away from her and taking brook inside to scold him yourself. you looked over your shoulder and saw the woman was disgruntled, but instead focused on comforting her scared to death child.

"what is up with you?! that was a kid who wasn't even 10 years old!"

"but-but!!" brook's laughter echoed in the home, making everyone else join in, "his face was so funny!!!"

you bit your lip, trying to keep a level head and be responsible instead of just joining in on the laughter. but when brook was beginning to mimic the kid's expression, you broke out laughing along with eveyone else.

"and his mom was so mad! and began scolding me like i was her own kid too!!"

"just quit scaring the shit out of kids!" you shouted, slapping him on the backside of his head - but your words didn't really get your point across because you were laughing as much as he was.

— jinbe doesn't really understand the hype of halloween, but he can see how enjoyable it is for everyone else. he doesn't rain down on anyone's parade, bearing through the scares that brook and franky get up to, while also being a reliable figure for usopp and chopper during the horror movie. let's just say by the end of the night, you and jinbe are all tired out as you were being the "baby sitters" of everyone for the whole day.

on the night of halloween, it was basically a big party and sleepover for everyone in the friend group. you and jinbe were working overtime basically to make sure everyone was alright. luffy could possibly be eating suspicious candy, but thank god jinbe knocked it out of his hand before then. you were on duty to be comforting usopp and chopper whenever a shadow passed over the window - even though it was just a tree branch swaying in the wind.

finally, the night was over (it was the early hours in the morning by the time everyone was tired) and you and jinbe were tiredly spread acorss the couch. the group had set up a fort on the floor with the couches surrounding them. they were all sleeping on the mats and blankets they set out for themselves, cuddling to their hearts' content.

jinbe sighed in content of finally being able to rest, putting on a calming nature show on the tv instead of the horror movies that we were all binging.

you laughed at his obvious exasperation and he just waved his hand to you dismissively, showing that he didn't care about showing just how tired he was.

"i can't believe sanji made the glaze tabasco sauce," jinbe said under his breath, making another rouse of laughter come from your mouth.

"did you hear zoro finally say anything besides belrrhh and uurgghh," you said, exaggerating the sounds zoro was making. jinbe covered his mouth to stop his laughter from waking everyone else up. "i mean, seriously if he wanted to just not talk to us, he could've just stayed home,"

jinbe smacked the couch cushion as a means of hiding his laughter, turning to you with tears in his eyes, "you know he enjoys arguing with you and sanji more than he'd admit, there's no way he would have missed out on this,"

you both broke out into loud laughter, making zoro turn over and throw a pillow at you in his sleep ridden state. he sleepily told you to shut up, making jinbe point a finger at his sleepy state.

"see! like i said, in his sleep he can't help it!!!!"

the strawhats are just the cutest ugh. happy halloween everyone 😻☝️school is my biggest opp rn so i ltr have noooo chances to write or upload but hipefully this weekend i can ‼️‼️‼️

tags - platonic

[roguehongsami]

Velvet Crowbar | Pt. 3

pairing/s: rockstar!wooyoung x fem!couturier

genre/s: smut, fluff, au

synopsis: 1995. it's been 12 years since you left kialecombe. wooyoung tracks you down, desperate to get you back before your wedding.

content: cheating, unprotected sex (condomize), fingering, oral sex, creampie, (sprinkled)nostalgia.

word count: 3.5k

navigation: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

masterlist here

"Hey, we're Bloodhound and you're not." the man spoke arrogantly, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Y/N switched off the television. Her focus was on the rough sketch she had been working on for a week. The deadline was approaching and she couldn't afford to miss it. It was slowly coming together but still didn't feel right. She let out an exasperated sigh and dropped her pencil on the table. She pushed away from the desk and spun around in her chair, taking in the view of the city skyline. She needed inspiration.

And inspiration she was going to get.

[ . . . ]

"These are the newest addition to the brand." the saleswoman gestured enthusiastically with her hands as she held the shoe. "A suede finish with the brand initials in gold as the heels. It comes in five different colours. What makes this heel special, is that it is the first shoe the CEO has ever designed in her entire career. She primarily focuses on clothing."

Yeosang nodded, having found the perfect gift for his wife. "I'd like them in a size four."

The saleswoman smiled. She instructed Yeosang to wait by the counter, as she went into the storage room to get a box of size four's. She returned with a black box, gold 'Archibald Scott' lettering on top.

Yeosang turned around and called. "Wooyoung, come on."

Wooyoung, who sat on the couch while Yeosang was shopping, walked over and stood beside him. His eye caught the miniature display on the counter. The woman in the picture posing with a bottle of perfume. Her face painted with a nude makeup look, and her nails manicured and decorated with red nail polish. He took the display into his hand, studying the woman's face.

It was now or never.

[ . . . ]

Y/N stepped out of the elevator, heels clinking against the floor tiles as she descended down the steps and marched to her office. No inspiration acquired but only a handbag in hand. Eyes focused on the door that created a buffer between her and the employees, behind came her assistant trying to match her pace.

"There's someone in your office. I told them you're not to be disturbed but they wouldn't–"

Y/N interrupted Cassidy. "That's okay, Cass. You can take the rest of the day off, I think I'm gonna clock off early."

Cassidy stopped in her tracks and returned to her desk. Y/N stood in front of her office door, opening it as her feet led her in. Behind her desk stood a man with black hair, held back by sunglasses. He sported a black leather jacket, black denim jeans and Nike Jordan's. Hands pocketed in his jacket. As she was about to speak, closing the door behind her, he turned around.

The air in the room suddenly became thin, almost losing her breath. "Woo?"

Wooyoung gave her a meek smile. "You are not the same girl I met in '83." he chuckled to himself. "Got time to catch up?"

She stood silently in the middle of the room, unable to move. Unable to find the words to speak. Something in her head suddenly clicked, as if she found the answer to a big question she had been asking herself. Wooyoung moved away from the desk and inched closer to her. As she came out of her trance, she instructed him to sit.

"How have you been doing? It's been a while."

"Twelve years." she whispered, unable to look him in the eye. "I've been doing okay. Just working. What about you? I see things worked out after Velvet Crowbar."

He bowed his head. "I went over to your house after I woke up from my OD. Nurses told me you were the one who found me. When I got there, your mom said you left Kialecombe for good. No matter how much I begged her to, she wouldn't tell me where you moved to. I just wanted to thank you." he looked her in eye. "You gave me a second chance."

"I'm sure anybody would've done the same if they found you." she spoke modestly.

"Yeah, I had nobody after I got kicked out of VC." he let out a shaky breath. "A second too late, I would've died in that room."

She dropped her head, a frown materializing across her face. The image of his unconscious body was still fresh in her memory. The relief she felt when her mother notified her of his condition. Since then, she had solely focused on school and work. Over the years, she saw him on TV. She knew their separation was for the best, she just needed the reassurance that he was doing fine.

He lifted her chin up. "I'm here now, thanks to you." he smiled boyishly. "I couldn't see myself stuck in Kialecombe forever, so I got clean and stayed clean. You remember Yeosang?"

"Dude with the lisp? Always bothered me how he'd say my surname." her eyebrows creased. "He plays drums in your band, right?"

"Yeah, he dropped his nine-to-five when the band finally took off. How'd you know that?"

She gave him a small smile. "I saw you on Headbangers Ball and Unplugged. Bloodhound really gives a good show."

"You listen to my band?" with genuine surprise in his tone.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. "Shut up, Woo. You always knew I was your biggest fan. How'd you even find me?"

"We came to Blue Coast for a break before we resume our tour. I was at one of your stores with a friend– I don't get why you didn't name the brand after yourself." he arched his eyebrows.

"My dad's name has an old money flair to it." she shrugged.

"I found the headquarters' number in the yellow pages, they told me where the big boss can be found."

The tension in the atmosphere eased. His eye caught the white diamond ring on her finger. His heart sank, afraid that he had actually lost her for good. All the work he had put into bettering himself was partially for his own benefit, but mostly so he could be the man Y/N deserved.

He pointed at the rock. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

She looked at the ring and as she was about to speak, her door opened. Her attention now directed to the man entering her office. Wooyoung turned his head, and the look on the man's face replaced with a distasteful one. Wooyoung and Y/N both stood from the couch. Instead of jealousy, Wooyoung was confused. It seems his words never stuck with Y/N as much as he thought they would.

"Wooyoung?" he spoke with an exasperated tone.

"Bradford." Wooyoung deigned, visibly unimpressed.

Y/N walked over to Brady's side and held onto his arm. "Brady and I are getting married in three weeks." she spoke hesitantly.

“I see…” Wooyoung sighed as he shook his head disapprovingly. “It was nice seeing you again, Y/N. I’ll make sure to say goodbye before going back on tour. Also, congratulations.”

Wooyoung strutted past Brady, bumping into his shoulder. He exited the office and once out of earshot, Brady casted Y/N a cold look. She merely rolled her eyes, aware of exactly what he was thinking. Her hands fell from his arm as she walked to her desk. She packed her designs into a cylindrical drawing holder. Handbag in hand and drawing holder nestled under her arm, she beelined to the door.

Brady blocked her path and looked down on her. “What was he doing here?”

“He found my office. Apparently, he was at one of my stores.” she pointed at the door. “Can we go home?”

He made way for her and as she continued her path, he reached for her wrist. “Don’t lie to me.”

Her eyes glanced at his hand then his face. “There’s nothing going on between me and Woo.”

Another late night spent in the office. Lights at every floor were off. From the street, the only lights that shone were on her floor. Office quiet as a grave, all that could be heard was the sound of birds squawking and the occasional helicopter making its nightly rounds around the city.

Slumped back in her chair, head rested against the back and arms laid on the armrest, she felt defeated. Her deadline was fast–approaching and she still had no designs to submit for the next season's line. The sound of nothing was slowly driving her mad. Her frustration worsening, wondering why she did not stick with handling office affairs.

A knock on the door startled her. She sat upright, waiting to hear if there would be another. A slightly more forceful knock followed. She got up from her desk and as she approached the door, she took the baseball bat by the couch. Another knock. As she unlocked the door, turning the knob, she brought the bat over her shoulder.

When she opened the door, there stood Wooyoung holding a paper bag full of takeaways. "I didn't know what you'd want, so I got everything..." he said with bewilderment written all over his face.

Y/N sighed a breath of relief as she stepped away from the door.

"Were you gonna use that on me?" he asked.

She locked the door and followed him to her desk. "You said you had late rehearsals."

He sat in her chair, setting aside her drawings and unpacking the food. "I finished at seven and came by. Saw your lights were on, so I left to go get food." he shrugged. "You had dinner yet?"

She tossed the bat on the couch and sat on the desk, beside Wooyoung. "I haven't eaten since morning."

After getting cornered by Brady, Wooyoung knew he could not see Y/N without her fiancé intercepting every meeting. He acquired her personal number from Cassidy, the assistant. It took a lot of convincing before she gave in. Since then, they had been meeting only when she worked late nights. Brady was completely in the dark.

Oblivious, Y/N was under the impression that he just wanted to catch up. They only had regular conversations about normal things, with Wooyoung occasionally asking about her future with Brady. An unintentional slip of the tongue informed Wooyoung that her relationship wasn't as exciting as it was in the beginning, and that she hoped that getting married would liven things up.

Her mishap was his ticket back in.

"Any luck with your designs?" he said, rubbing her bare knee.

She shook her head.

He planted his hands on her thighs, his head bowed down. "Most people revisit their past when they need inspiration."

He looked up to meet her eyes. She took in a deep breath and released a shaky one. Something about that statement did not sit well with her. It wasn't the literal sentence, but its insinuation. He inched closer to her face, standing between her legs. She leaned back a bit to create distance. His hands on her lower back, he reeled her back in.

Trailing kisses along her jaw to her neck, her body stiffened. Too conflicted to make a decision. What she wants or what she deserves? He was pushing her to choose the former. Slow steady breaths to calm her nerves. She needed to bring herself back down to earth and buck up. She grabbed his arms and as she began pushing him, his grip around her waist tightened.

He leaned into her ear and chimed, "When was the last time you and Brady had sex?" he pulled back to see her face. "Don't be shy, tell me."

Flustered, her hands fell to the table. In a whisper, she said, "Two months ago."

It wasn't the wedding planning. It wasn't her job. She had not been in the mood for a while. Aphrodisia was second nature to her and its absence was dispiriting. Unable to pinpoint the source of her sexual stupor, she just chalked it up to age. She just didn't have it like she used to, maybe.

He glanced down at her engagement ring. His hand stroked her arm, eventually sliding the ring off and tucking it away in her desk drawer. Lips locked with one another and inhibitions cast away, she gave in. She knew it was wrong but it's easier to beg for forgiveness than to actually dig for the actual problem and abate it. His hands slid under her skirt and tugged at the hems of her underwear.

Breaking the kiss, he said, "You know I still-"

"Don't." she cut him off. "I'm getting married in two weeks, don't make this any more complicated than it already is."

Reluctantly, he obliged, seizing the conversation. He pulled off her underwear. Separating her folds, he slid one finger in. Thrusting in and out. She wrapped her legs around his waist and threw her head back. He went down on his knees, her legs thrown over his shoulders and hands gripping her thighs, he lapped her up and tickled her bud with his tongue. A breathy moan filled the room.

As his pace increased, he stretched her out to get her ready. Three fingers and ten minutes later, the sound of Wooyoung slurping and Y/N cursing between moans was all that could be heard. He stood up and brought her into a kiss. Her hands were fumbling with his belt but she eventually undid it. He unbuttoned her blouse and unclasped the front of her bra, freeing her breasts.

She pulled his jacket and shirt off, throwing them on the ground. Her lips left trails of wet kisses all over his chest, suckling and nibbling at the skin on his neck. Rouge materialising. He dropped his pants as they pooled around his legs. She went in for a kiss. As he slid into her, she moaned into his mouth. A proud grin forming on his lips. He started with soft, slow thrusts. Easing her into the moment. As he picked up speed and force, he laid her on her back.

His fingers toying with her bud, her brain was fogging. She could not recall the last time she enjoyed sex this much. It had become a chore. Her hands toyed with her breasts, Wooyoung removing her hands from her chest.

"Let me watch..." he spoke, breathlesly.

Sweat beads were forming on his forehead, a combination of their bodies radiating and the raised summer temperatures. One leg over his shoulder and another around his waist, he reached in to grab the back of her neck.

"He doesn't fuck you this good, does he?" he grunted, smacking the side of her thigh.

"Brady could never." she lambasted in a moan.

Wooyoung suddenly stopped. He brought her to her feet then bent her over the desk. With one leg on the desk, he went back in. At this angle, silence was not a given. Moans mixed with cries, and grunts mixed with groans. They could only wish for this to go on forever. Consistent with the pace, he pulled off her blouse and bra. Her hands pressed firm against the desk surface for balance, he toyed with her nipples as he nipped the skin on her shoulder.

She clamped around him, feeling pressure build up in her stomach. How she missed that knotting sensation. He felt the squeeze of his cock, making him move erratically inside her. The warmth and friction of it all drove him to unadulterated insanity. He held her bare back flush against his chest, needing every bit of skin contact he could acquire.

"Woo, faster." she moaned, one hand on the desk and the other holding on to his neck.

Not a second later, he was thrusting as fast as he could. They braced themselves for a simultaneous release, it was fast-approaching. Both came undone. Wooyoung was thrusting all the discharge deep inside her until he stilled. His head rested on her shoulder, catching a breath, and her head hung. He slowly pulled out of her, bits of cum sliding down her thigh. He grabbed a tissue from her desk, and wiped her down.

They got dressed in silence. Not an awkward one. They were reflecting on where their relationship went wrong, and how they got to that point. The chemistry was still there, but so were obstacles. Y/N felt as if she had a promise to fulfill with her engagement. She couldn't turn back now. And Wooyoung, nothing he could say would change her mind. She was determined to walk down that aisle.

What she deserved outweighed what she desired.

Yet she expressed no remorse for what she had just done.

"Just think about what I said, okay?" he pecked her on the lips. "Revisit the past."

[ . . . ]

After spending the whole night in the office, no ideas coming to light, she stepped into her penthouse. She put her handbag down on the kitchen island. Brady's gym bag was still in the kitchen. She went on a path to her bedroom. In her walk-in closet, she found an old miniature chest with memorabilia. She sat on the bed as she went through some of the artifacts.

Her late father's watch.

Her mother's locket, which was passed down to her by her mother, Mrs. Rhodes.

Polaroids of her adolescent days. At the country club with her parents. Making clothes in the atelier. Moments of her dancing on tables and headbanging. Sitting on the roof of an abandoned bus with Murphy and Seonghwa. Her and Wooyoung wearing battle vests and matching Judas Priest tees at a show, their first date. She took a few more moments looking.

Truly the happiest time of her life.

She left the open chest and polaroids on the bed, stepping into the bathroom for a shower. As the water ran, Brady came in and took note of the items on the bed. He picked up the polaroids and studied the one with Wooyoung. Aggravated that she would keep it, he counted to a hundred in his head to calm himself.

Freshly cleaned, she returned and saw Brady holding her belongings. "Morning sweetie. How'd you sleep?"

He mustered up a halfhearted smile. "Just fine but the bed felt empty without you." he leaned in for a kiss. "What are these?"

"Stuff from high school. I think I know what my next line is gonna be."

She went to bed after chitchatting with Brady, getting some shut-eye before resuming her work. She spent the day at home, drawing multiple designs. They all came so easy. Late afternoon and already down to seven designs. She stopped once she felt she had enough ideas and packed her drawings into the holder.

At any moment, Brady was going to step into their home. Dinner was prepared and the table was set. She changed into a loose sweatshirt and sweatpants. Watching the television, the elevator announced Brady's arrival as he stepped out. Sauntering to the couch and pecking her on the forehead, he greeted her and went off to change.

At the dinner table, Brady put forward, "So, where's your ring?"

Y/N choked on her broth. "Oh..." she wiped her mouth with a napkin and looked down at her hand. "It kept getting caught in my blouse so I put it in my drawer." she looked him in the eye. "It's at work."

Her heart was thumping violently against her chest. A momentary lapsus memoriae, nearly outing her. She was lucky to be able to come up with an excuse so fast. The last time she was cornered, the lie got caught in her throat and found herself stuttering a single letter.

Brady nodded and continued eating his food. Eventually, they cleared the dinner table. Cuddled on the couch watching Universal Soldier. Y/N drifted off to sleep on Brady's chest. The phone on the coffee table rang. He picked it up and put it to his ear.

"Yes?" he spoke.

"Hey Bradford, are you busy, like right now?" the woman on the other end said.

"Hey Pari, what's up?"

"I have something you need to see. Come to my office, immediately." the line died.

Brady was careful not to wake her, laying her down on the couch and propping her head up with pillows. He got dressed and rushed out of the penthouse. His car was parked outside the Blue Coast Times office. He signed in at reception and stood in the elevator, waiting to reach the top floor. He reached Pari's door. A silver plate me this eyes; Pari Yadav – Editor In Chief.

He knocked on the door twice before Pari opened. She instructed him to sit as she sat across from him. On her desk was a brown envelope. She slid it over to him. His eyebrows creased down the middle, glancing at the envelope then at Pari.

"What is this?" he spelled out as he opened the envelope.

Inside, there were multiple pictures. His eyes studied every picture intently, soaking up the events captured. He sighed, disappointed but not surprised. It was the most defeated he had ever felt. Quick to wipe away the tears that had fallen on his cheeks, he put the pictures back in the envelope. He knew if he went ahead with their pending marriage, he'd always be second priority.

Pari leaned forward in her chair. "I won't run the story. Nobody needs to know about this, I'll tell my journalists to back off."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thank you, Pari. But I think I have a better idea." he released a deep breath. "What are you doing on the eighteenth?"

taglist (green highlight = can't tag):

@tinybada @yeosangsbbg @staytiny816

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PART 4, READ HERE.

[here-lies-they-ran-outta-luck]

Hey!! I saw your post about requests! I was wondering if you could write something about draco falling in love with his childhood best friend? (fem reader please) this could be like a series or just a short story or whatever u want!! thank you :)

Finally (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

warnings- use of y/n, more feminine compliments, kinda sad word count- 983 an- I had something else posted here and then I didn't like it so I deleted it, so sorry. Thank you so much for this request because I had a great time writing this!

You take a deep breath as you walk towards the large doors that lead to the Malfoy’s expansive ballroom for what might be one of the last times.

“You look as beautiful as ever, Y/n. Are you ready?” Narcissa says, putting her arms on your shoulders once you stop walking, she’s been like your second mother for the last 8 years.

“I think I am. Is Draco walking with me?” You ask, turning around to look at the graceful older woman.

“Absolutely you are,” the blonde says, appearing behind his mother, giving you a large minty smile.

“I know I say this every year,” Narcissa says, moving so that you and Draco are standing together, putting her hand on Draco’s cheek, she says “You two would be such an adorable couple!”

“And Each year we tell you you’re crazy,” Draco says softly, taking his moms hand off his cheek.

“You guys know what you're doing, yes?” She questions, looking at us with expecting eyes.

“Yes Mum, we’ve been doing this for as long as we’ve been walking,” he says, flashing her a charming smile. She returns the smile and continues on her way, convinced that we know when to head down the stairs.

“She’s right, you do look beautiful,” Draco says, turning to face you, he pushes a few stray pieces of hair out of your face.

“And you look extremely handsome,” You reply, flashing him a large smile. You two stand arm in arm waiting for the doors to open.

The doors fly open after a few quick seconds, you and Draco start walking down the long flight of stairs, arms staying locked.

“I don’t think I’d be able to walk down the stairs with anyone else,” You joke, looking up at Draco, “I’m too used to how goofy you walk.”

“This could be our last year together and you’re going to bully me?” He says, smirking at your comment.

“What makes you say that? Are you trying to get rid of me?” You say, mocking offense.

“I’m just saying that with how stunning you look, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone came to sweep you off your feet,” He says, his minty breath hitting your face.

“It’s a shame you’re not willing to try to woo me,” You say, only half joking.

“Who says I haven’t been trying to?” He questions, stopping at the bottom of the staircase, looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

“Is that so?” You say with a smirk, challenging him. He only answers with a shrug, pulling you towards your group of friends, leaving you with them while he grabs the two of you something to drink.

“Are you two finally together then?” Theodore questions, taking a bite out of a small slice of chocolate cake.

“Oh come on, did he pay you to say that?” You say with a large smile, taking a finger full of frosting from the boy's plate.

“Nope, just waiting for the day that I get to win the bet,” He says with a smug smirk, pulling his cake further away from you.

“What is it? A bet that two childhood best friends will get together? Do you guys have one between me and Matty too?” You snort, crossing your arms.

“Nope, I only make bets that people with sexual tension are going to get together,” He replies with a shit eating smirk.

“Theodore! There is no sexual tension!” You say, swatting his arm with your hand bag, “He wouldn’t feel the same way about me anyway, he's just a flirt.”

“No no, I am just a flirt, he is smitten,” The brunette says flashing you a goofy grin.

“You are the dumbest person I have ever met,” You say, turning away from him, taking a drink from Draco who just arrived.

Eventually the two of you wonder off, talking to different people, taking pictures for when your parents ask for it. At some point you find yourself out on the balcony, Draco nowhere to be seen.

Embracing the chill of the lonely night you sit on the small metal bench you’ve spent time growing to love. You’re staring off into space, letting your thoughts take over when you hear quiet footsteps then soon after feel the presence of the blonde boy next to you.

“Hello Dray,” You say, sitting up, looking at the stunning boy.

“Hello love. Are you feeling okay?” He asks, turning towards you.

“I think I am now that you’re here,” You say, bumping your shoulders together, “Things are always better when you’re with me.”

“Don’t do that, Y/n,” He says, abruptly standing up.

“What do you mean, Dray?” You ask, his sudden movement making your chest ache ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to just be your friend, I don’t want to watch you walk with someone else at my family balls, and I don’t want to pretend that I’m not absolutely in love with you,” He says, letting out a loud huff.

“What?” You say quietly, looking up at the boy.

“Don’t act stupid, Y/n. I have been so in love with you for as long as I can remember. And I need to tell you now before it really is too late,” He says, his eyes glossing over.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, I have been in love with you since we were 7 years old,” You say, standing up, wrapping your arms around the boy's neck.

“Do you promise?” He says, tears brimming his eyes ready to fall.

“I promise,” You reply, standing on your tiptoes to give the boy a kiss on the lips, pulling away you lay your head on his chest, moving your arms down to the middle of his back so you can squeeze him in a tight hug.

“Mattheo, you owe me 17 sickles!” You faintly hear Theodore yell.

[honeypiehotchner]

Gravedigger’s Daughter (Hangman x Fem!Reader) -- part one

Holy shit I think I might be slowly coming out of my writing slump. Here’s the beginning of this mini-series about this fine ass man🤪 (Yes there will be smut later on)

Summary: You’re finally back in Fightertown to visit Penny and Amelia, but there also happens to be a group of aviators back at Top Gun. One of which who seems dead-set on wooing you.

WC: 3,996

Warnings: none, I think, unless you count Hangman’s shameless flirting

When Penny told you to come home, back to Fightertown, you should’ve known she had ulterior motives.

But what did you do? You drove down for the weekend anyway.

You’re currently living in the heart of San Diego, so you aren’t too far from Fightertown. You grew up there, but after your dad died, you and your mom had to move somewhere else. It hurt a little too much to be there right after the accident, but you never could move far.

Your mom passed away last year from a cancer that the doctors had found three years prior, just a few weeks after your dad’s death. The punches kept coming that year.

Now, you’re coasting. There isn’t much that a person can do when they’re in their twenties and have already lost their parents. Life feels…different without your mom. 

Penny has been trying every second she can to get you to come visit, but you’ve had a litany of excuses. Until today.

The Hard Deck doesn’t open to the public for a few hours, but you walk right in, sneaking up on Amelia who does her homework at the bar.

“Boo.”

“Aunt Y/N!” Amelia knows your tricks too well. She spins and throws her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly. This embrace alone is enough to tell you that it’s been too long.

“Hey kiddo,” you murmur. “I’ve missed you.” You hug her back just as tight, shaking her a little.

“I’ve missed you too!” Amelia pauses, looking over your shoulder before whispering, “Guess who’s here.”

“Who?” 

“Maverick,” Amelia says. “He’s outside with Mom.”

“What?” you nearly shriek, whirling around to look down at the beach. Holy shit. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“I have no idea,” Amelia shrugs. “But they’ve been talking for a while. Do you think they’ll get back together?”

Penny has no idea that Amelia knows about her and Maverick. You told Amelia it’s best to keep it a secret between you two that she knows. Penny will say something when she’s ready. Maybe.

But the idea of them getting back together? You scoff. “He’s gotta wait for Hell to freeze over first,” you chuckle. “Let’s go save her, shall we?”

Amelia grins. “Race you.” And she takes off.

“Oh shit.” You bolt after her, nowhere near as fast as you used to be, and Amelia seems to have just gotten faster.

“Mom!” Amelia shouts as she darts across the sand. You jump off the deck and roll, popping up on your feet. “Look who I found!”

“When did you get so fast?” you yell, loving the bewildered looks you get from Penny and Maverick. You clearly interrupted something, but you’re not sure yet if it’s a good thing.

“When did you get so slow?” Amelia fires back, her hands resting on her hips.

“You’re lucky you’re my niece,” you laugh. “Hey Pen.” You wrap your arms around her, squeezing tightly.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Penny says softly. She glances awkwardly at Maverick. “Uhm, you remember--”

“I can’t believe it,” Mav says. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you reply. “You get into trouble again?”

He laughs. “Yeah, something like that. What about you?”

“Just missed these two,” you say truthfully, pulling Penny and Amelia into you by your arms. “You missed Penny, I’m presuming-- Ow!” An elbow to the ribs shuts you up real quick.

Maverick answers anyway. “I did. I really did.”

“Gross,” Amelia comments, wiggling out from your arm. “Can we get ice cream?”

“Have you had dinner?” Penny interjects.

“We can get dinner and ice cream,” you offer. “My treat. That okay?”

“Of course,” Penny nods. “You should come back to the bar later.”

“Alright,” you say, a little skeptical. She never outright asks like that unless she wants or needs you to be there. “I’ll put this rascal to bed and then head over.”

“You don’t need to tuck me in,” Amelia groans. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you ruffle her hair. “Race you.” And you take off, hearing Penny and Maverick laughing as you and Amelia kick up sand.

+++

Amelia spills everything over dinner and ice cream, catching you up with lightning speed.

Her dad (the Jackass, as you call him when Penny talks to you about him) has a new wife now, all cozy in his stupid Hawaiian home. You’ve never rolled your eyes so hard.

School is as boring as ever, but she’s managing. High school is new and weird but she has friends and seems to be doing okay. It’s hard not to when Fightertown is so close knit.

Too close knit. That’s part of why you and your mom had to move.

Amelia says Penny is still hung up on Maverick. “I’m not dumb,” Amelia says. “I can tell.” And that makes you laugh. Nothing gets past this kid. Granted, Penny and Maverick are painfully obvious about their feelings.

Speaking of that, when Amelia asks how you are, she follows it up with “And don’t say ‘good’ because you look rough.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, licking the ice cream off your spoon. “Thanks, Amelia.”

“Sorry,” she grimaces. “Mom says I don’t have a filter.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I am okay, though. Don’t worry. I’m sorry I don’t come see you enough. I really should visit a lot more.”

“You’re just twenty minutes away,” she murmurs. And that breaks your heart.

“I know, kiddo, I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you move back here?” she asks. “Mom would let you stay with us until you got your own place.”

“I know she would,” you frown. “But my job is in San Diego. I’ll try to visit more, I promise. Seriously.”

“Okay.” You can tell she doesn’t really believe you, and you don’t blame her.

After talking with Amelia, you kind of need a drink. You’re kicking yourself the whole drive back to Penny’s, and then the whole walk over to The Hard Deck. The guilt will eat you alive if you let it, and you can’t. It’s all so complicated, why you couldn’t come visit as often as you should. 

You hear the music loud and clear before you’re even close, and you can’t help but grin. You missed this a lot more than you’re willing to admit.

The door is opened for you by a good looking man in uniform. And the entire Hard Deck is filled with others just like him.

Penny, you son of a bitch.

There’s a running joke between the two of you that you’re a bit of a loner while she’s the romantic. Between your dad’s death and your mom’s cancer diagnosis and eventual death, dating has never been on your mind. 

But clearly Penny has other ideas for you. Her grin when she spots you is a dead giveaway.

You approach the bar and shake your head. “I’ll get you back for this.”

“A beer? Perfect,” she winks, pouring you your favorite. “It’s on Maverick.”

“Huh?”

To your left, Maverick waves his cellphone.

“Ah,” you smirk, picking up your glass. “Someone didn’t read the rules.” No cell phones at the bar. You take a sip, whistling at the taste. “Damn. That’s good.”

“I’m glad,” Maverick deadpans.

“Come on, old man,” you grin, slapping him on the back. “Let’s see if it’s good enough for me to wipe the floor with you at darts.”

“Not a chance,” Maverick says quickly, hopping up and high tailing it to the dart board.

You get there first, though, but it’s occupied, so you have to do some good old fashioned sweet talking.

“Hey boys,” you grin. “Mind letting me and the old man in for a round?”

“Wow,” the one on the left says. “Maverick, wanna introduce us to your friend?”

Dammit. “Of course you know him,” you roll your eyes. “Fine, introduce us, Mav. I forgot you know everyone under the sun.”

“Y/N, this is Fanboy,” Mav points to the left, “and Payback,” he points to the right.

In the midst of these introductions, though, a crowd of others in uniform have joined the group, so Maverick continues.

“That’s Rooster,” the one with a mustache, “Phoenix,” the only woman, “Bob,” he looks shy, “and Hangman.”

“Pretty good call signs,” you nod. “Not bad. I’ll try to remember them, but no promises.”

“You got one?” Phoenix asks.

“Oh,” you chuckle. “No, not me. My dad was Gravedigger.”

“The Gravedigger?” Fanboy (you think) asks.

Here we go again. “Yep. Anyone wanna play darts? Loser buys me another beer,” you grin, taking a sip for effect, locking eyes with each of them.

“I’ll bite,” Hangman says, stepping forward. He hands off his pool stick to Rooster who rolls his eyes and walks away.

As does everyone else. It doesn’t take an idiot to see that the group’s Resident Playboy Charmer thinks you’ve fallen into his trap.

“Alright,” you act cool. “Let’s see what the Hangman’s got, shall we?” You grab your favorite darts, the ones with the red ends. Your dad always picked the red ones, at least. You used to go for blue before he died.

Maverick gives you a look, muttering, “Go easy.”

“Me?” you point at yourself. “Go easy?” You toss a dart at the board without looking -- and it hits the bullseye. “Never.”

Hangman stares at the board then looks at you. “Damn.”

“Good luck, Hangman,” Maverick says with a laugh. “Hope you’ve got money for beer.”

“You might should stay, Mav,” you chuckle, throwing your other darts, hitting each one with precision. “He might need your help.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hangman quips, grabbing the silver darts. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

“Mhm,” you nod, calculating up your points before removing your darts from the board. “Go ahead.”

Hangman does his best, but he ends up buying you a beer. As you expected.

He gets himself another as well, following you back to the dart board.

“You didn’t learn your lesson, huh?” you ask, sipping, watching him pick up his darts. “Want me to beat your ass again?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to let me buy you a drink, then sure,” Hangman grins. “I’ll play darts all night, sweetheart.”

“Ah,” you raise your eyebrows. “Charming. If you wanted to buy me a drink, all you had to do was ask.”

“Good to know,” he says. “What if I want to take you out to dinner? I just have to ask?”

“You’ve gotta do a lot more than that,” you deflect. He can buy you drinks, he can play darts with you, but dinner and dates are where you draw the line. He’s shit at darts, though, so to lighten the blow, you say, “Win a round of darts, then maybe we can talk about dinner.”

Hangman nearly chokes on his beer. “Sounds good to me.”

You beat him round after round. You played ruthlessly, and he noticed, but he didn’t say anything. 

You let him buy you two more beers, only drinking half of the last one. It wasn’t your plan to spend the entire night playing darts with a naval aviator, but it happened anyway.

Most everyone has gone home, including all of the other pilots. Penny is cleaning glasses at the bar and Maverick is keeping her company, glancing your way every now and then. The loud music has been replaced with slower, softer songs as 1am creeps in.

Hours of deflecting personal questions end with Hangman asking the biggest one that you know he was holding onto.

“So…your dad was the Gravedigger?”

You toss a dart clumsily and it lands just below the bullseye. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Hangman says softly.

“It was years ago,” you shrug. “But thanks. I appreciate that.” You throw one more dart, lazily, it barely lands. “I should go.”

“Alright,” Hangman says. “Need a ride? Or company on the walk?”

“No thanks,” you smile. “I’m staying with Penny. But um, thanks for the darts. And beer.”

“Sure thing,” Hangman nods. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you say, waving.

He dips his head respectfully, his southern roots coming out, as he turns and walks away.

You head up to the bar where Penny is smiling, smugly cleaning a glass. “What is that face?”

“What face?” Penny asks.

“That one,” you reply. “You ready to go?”

“Just been waiting on you,” Penny sings.

Maverick snickers to himself and hops off the stool. “Hangman’s a damn good pilot.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Just saying,” Maverick says with a shrug, and an all too knowing smile. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Sure,” you reply slowly, watching the wistful look Maverick gives Penny. Seriously, he’s like a lost puppy.

Once Maverick is out the door, Penny starts in on you.

“Hangman, huh?” Penny says. “He’s attractive.”

“He’s shit at darts,” you laugh. “But I got free beer all night, so that’s nice of him.”

“He’s smitten.”

“He’s not,” you argue. “Maverick is, though.”

Penny scoffs and grabs her purse. “The past--”

“Is the past, I know,” you finish her sentence, despite the look she gives you. “Looks pretty present if you ask me.”

Penny hums, but says nothing else.

+++

You sleep on the couch at Penny’s and wake up early enough to have breakfast with Amelia before Penny takes her to school. Penny has to run some errands for the day, so you accompany her.

Later on, the two of you return to the Hard Deck for lunch, where the beach is…occupied.

“What the hell are they doing?” you ask. You can see clearly what they’re doing, but the question still slips out. 

“Looks like football,” Penny says, cracking a smile. “Why? You wanna join them?”

“No,” you reply. “But I wanted to get in the water.”

“I’m sure you still can,” Penny grins. “And you should.”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “Where’s the bread?”

After making your sandwiches, Penny insists that you eat outside. You could say it has something to do with the fact that even Maverick is out there, shirtless, sweating and playing football, but you don’t. 

Reluctantly, you follow her outside to a picnic table, watching her wave to Maverick. Which means everyone else has probably looked your way, including Hangman. 

Penny confirms it for you. “Y’know, if you’d look, you’d see Hangman waiting for you to turn your head.”

“Exactly why I’m not looking,” you retort. “How’s Mav look?”

Penny glares at you, but she can’t hide her grin. “He looks good. You know the exact kind of good that I mean, too.”

“Oh, Christ,” you grimace, trying to get the image of them two having sex out of your head.

“That’s what you get for teasing me,” Penny chuckles. “By the way, he’s stopped looking. They’re playing again.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Fine, suit yourself.”

The curiosity nearly kills you, and you finally look. Penny was right; they’re playing again. But that doesn’t stop Hangman from finding your eyes and grinning. He doesn’t wave, but locking eyes is enough, and so is the wink he sends your way. And then he keeps playing, showing off his abs, his skills, and—

He looks the exact kind of good that Penny was talking about.

You quickly snap yourself out of it. Too bad it will never happen. 

Your mother always told you to never fall in love with a man like your father. Not because they’re bad men, in fact, they’re very good men. But the heartache that is left behind is too much to bear. The anxiety when they’re alive, wondering what day might be their last, will rot you from the inside out. It is difficult to stay sane. Staying sane is the hardest part. Next to grieving the loss. 

You went through it enough with your dad. You can’t do that to yourself again. 

“I’ve got some umbrellas in the back if you want,” Penny says out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“If you want to sit on the beach for a while,” she adds, smiling softly. “Might make you feel better.”

She reads you too well. “Yeah,” you say. “Maybe. I might take a walk.”

“Okay,” she nods, standing up with her plate. “I’ll be here if you need me. Amelia’s going to a friend’s house after school.”

“Okay,” you reply. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Penny smiles. “Take care of yourself.”

You look down at your half-eaten sandwich and contemplate tossing it. You decide to just leave it. You might want it later, or not, but you don’t have the energy to decide what to do with it right now.

You hop down the steps to the sand, walking in the opposite direction of the football game. There’s a lot of yelling, so someone must’ve done something good. Who knows. 

You should’ve known being back here would be this hard. This is exactly why you haven’t been here, and yet, you thought maybe it would be fine. Maybe enough time has passed. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

You still remember walking this exact stretch of sand with your mom while your dad flew above. You’d always wave to any planes, hoping he was one of them. Or one of his buddies. Sometimes he’d tell you that he waved back, but you don’t know if he was saying that just to make you smile.

He did that a lot.

You find a shady spot and decide to sit down. You’re far enough from the football game that their hooting and hollering is quieter.

You lean your head against the tree and shut your eyes, letting the warmth envelope you.

A few moments of peace are all you get before you hear someone jogging toward you, the sand and shells crunching beneath their feet.

Opening your eyes, you see it’s none other than Hangman.

And you’re 99% sure everyone is watching.

“Hangman,” you call out, smirking a little. “There’s no dartboard here.”

“My wallet is relieved,” he teases, smiling back. He’s still shirtless. It’s hard to focus. “What are you up to?”

“Napping,” you reply. “I thought you were playing football.”

“Ah, we’re taking a break.”

You look behind him and see the game is still very much going on. Maverick has sat down and so has Hondo, but…everyone else is still playing. Meaning, Hangman should be back there, but instead chose to come talk to you.

“Sure,” you nod. “What do you want?”

“I can’t ask a pretty girl how she’s doing?” 

“Not this pretty girl,” you chuckle, accepting his shameless flirting. You shut your eyes once more. “She’s sleeping.”

“Well, I’ll wait for the sleeping beauty to finish getting her rest, then.”

He’s too much. He’s too good. Laying the charm on thick, layer after layer. His perfectly toned abdomen and smug smirk. You can’t help but open your eyes.

“Alright,” you say. “She’s awake. What did you really want, Hangman?”

“Just to say hi. And my name’s Jake, by the way,” he says. “I realized I never told you my legal name, just my call sign.”

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” you reply, smiling a little. “You probably answer more to Hangman now, anyway.”

“Yeah, it stuck hard.”

“I used to call my dad by his call sign when I needed to get his attention,” you say, not sure why you decided to share this memory. “Nothing like a twelve year old yelling out, ‘Gravedigger!’ in a grocery store.”

Hangman laughs. “I can practically hear it myself.”

“Me too,” you murmur.

“Mind if I sit?”

You gesture to the spot next to you. “Go ahead.”

Hangman sits, bending his knees and resting his arms there. He looks out at the water before looking back at you. Underneath the tint of his sunglasses, you can just barely see his eyes scanning your entire face. “What do you think your call sign would be?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “I’m not a pilot.”

“Oh, come on, darlin’,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. “You of all people are allowed an honorary call sign.”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“I think you’d be… the Mortician.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re real proud of yourself for that one, huh?”

“My call sign ideas are great.”

“Mm…”

“Hangman is clever!”

“I’ll give you that, it is.”

“Thank you.” He grins. “I appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply. It slips out too easily. The slight desire to let there be another time. Or anytime. Why does it feel so easy? You nod toward the football game. “Looks like they’re playing without you.”

He glances over and shrugs. “I’ll let them have it.”

“You done playing?”

He shakes his head, feigning contemplation. He raises one hand, “Football with a bunch of aviators I see all day long anyway,” he pauses, raising the other hand, “or talking to you.” He looks over, shrugging. “I’ll pick you.”

“Wow,” you raise both eyebrows. “Pretty bold considering we just met and all I did was kick your ass.”

“Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“You’re something.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What am I exactly, sweetheart?”

“Let’s see,” you start counting on your fingers. “A flirt, a player, a pilot -- that’s at least a good one.” Hangman laughs. “God awful at darts, a sweet southern boy, yet somehow, also a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Come on,” you give him a look. “It’s all over your face. It’s all over your friend’s faces. I get it, you’re the one who always gets the girl. But if you’re trying to woo me, it’s a lost cause, Jake.”

“Who says?”

“I do,” you murmur. “I went through enough having a dad in the exact same profession.”

He nods, understanding now. “Right, I see.” He pauses, looking a bit sad. “Am I still allowed to talk to you or…?”

“Yes, oh my God, it’s not that serious,” you laugh. “I just wanted to let you know it’s um… You’re fighting a losing battle and I don’t wanna lead you on. I’d rather be upfront about it now.”

“I appreciate that,” he says. “I guess I should get back to the game, huh?”

“Before Mav comes looking for you, yeah,” you reply. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I will, sweetheart,” he says, standing to his feet. He tilts his sunglasses down to wink at you. “I always do.”

You roll your eyes as he jogs off, waving his arms so someone will toss the ball down to him. Surprisingly, he catches it, and takes off, almost getting tackled before he reaches the end.

You take a few more minutes to yourself before beginning the trek back to The Hard Deck.

Penny is waiting inside in the AC, cleaning glasses and preparing for tonight. With all these aviators back at Top Gun, it’s bound to be another busy night.

“Hey lover,” she says, grinning. “I saw Hangman hunt you down.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. He is persistent, that’s for damn sure. “He did.”

“So… How’d that go?”

“I let him down easy.”

“Mm,” Penny nods, expecting that. “How’d he take it?”

“He’s fine,” you say, chuckling. “I’m not banning him from speaking to me. I just let him know it’s never gonna happen, so he doesn’t waste his time.”

“Huh.”

“What?” you huff.

“Nothing,” Penny shrugs, putting a glass away. “I just remember telling Maverick the same thing, and yet here he is.”

“Well, that’s you and Maverick,” you say, ready to be done with discussing this. She’s making it a much bigger thing that it needs to be -- or is. “Do you need help getting ready to open?”

Penny accepts the subject change and backs down. “There’s some extra glasses in the back, can you grab them? And check for any chips in them, please.”

“Sure thing,” you nod, ready for some mindless work.

Through the window you can see the football game is still going strong. Maverick has joined again, and narrowly misses being tackled by Phoenix. 

Hangman looks your way and locks eyes with you, but you quickly look away.

[catcze]

if you wanna write about other characters may i bring up the idea of karaoke with kazuha both sober and drunk... he looks like he's super shy about singing til he gets some liquid courage in his system. THEN he'll uh. he'll woo you with his charm at least!

—totally not hunter

hello there, 'totally not hunter,' i don't believe we've met before 👀👀 /j But !! 👀👀 Drunk Kazuha I can definitely, definitely do 👀

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 CWS : 」 Consumption of alcohol! Both parties are of legal drinking age though, and they drink in a safe setting ♡

When the night starts, Kazuha is still shy about his vocals. No matter how much you encourage him to duet with you, to pick songs on the karaoke machine that he likes, he always finds a way to sidestep your offers with a shy smile.

"I'm afraid singing is certainly not in my repertoire," he says handing the microphone back to you. He gestures to the screen, encouraging you to sing what you want. And you huff. Because, yes, you like singing. Yes, Kazuha has told you that he likes hearing you sing, even though you tell him you probably sound like a bag of screaming cats. Yes, he's here and he's enjoying himself. But it's not the same if he was on the mic too, singing alongside you. It's just different.

But he refuses time and time again, no matter how much you playfully goad him. So you know what? You bring out the big guns.

"Hi? Excuse me," you say into the microphone connecting you to the front desk. "Yeah. Can I order, like, four bottles of sake and a bottle of tequila? Yeah, just charge it to the room. Thanks."

And at times like these, you're so grateful that Kazuha can't drink for shit. It doesn't take him long— just three bottles of sake and less than half of the tequila before Kazuha's red-faced and giggling like he's heard the funniest joke in the world. You're definitely not sober either, but you've still got your wits about you.

"C'mon, Kazu," you nudge him in the arm with a microphone. Your grin is sly. "Wanna duet with me?"

This time he does not refuse you. Instead, he laughs, grabs the mic right out of your hands, and asks what song you're singing. You grin in victory, and choose a random duet song from the selection.

It only occurs to you after you see the lyrics that oh. oh fuck it's a romance song. And you feel the heat rise to your face because why in the name of all the archons did you have to choose a love song to sing with the boy you have feelings for? But you steel yourself— you power through your verse, and listen to Kazuha.

And boy, does he get more bold when he's drunk as a skunk. He's drunk, that much is evident from his slight slur when he sings, but his bravado. As he sings his verse, he keeps his voice low, barely more than a melodic murmur, and looks you in the eye the entire time. It has you flustered, just a few seconds in, and you try to look away with the thought of 'oh I just bit off more than I could chew' but he's coming closer, a grin on his face as he sings.

You feel gravitated to him, want to reach out and hold his hand, maybe, but then you see the sudden sleepiness in his eyes, the way his movements go from suave to heavy, and it's all you can do to guide him back down to the couch before he collapses in a drunken heap of limbs.

And you sigh, kneeling on the floor, forehead on the couch cushion. Because he hadn't even gotten through half of the song, but Kazuha drunk was dangerous for your heart.

[cupids-chamber]

❝ 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 .ᐟ ❞ We've heard love triangle's between one of the Tweels and Azul, however... what happens if two brothers, fall for the same person?

GENDER NEUTRAL READER 2.1k Special A/N: This has consumed my mind for quite a bit of time, so lets put it to work!!

Y/n was going about they're regular routine, just like usual, finishing their daily tasks for Crowley, when FLOYD caught them. They didn't think much of it, and before they knew it, an hour had passed. As they talked to Floyd, about many different things.

A couple hours later, Y/n had to take their leave, as they had many tasks left to complete. And as they left Floyd had a strike of realization, this was one of the first times he had sat down in one place, and talked... for hours on end, without getting bored.

The realization left him star-struck, and that was only the beginning, Floyd began to seek out Y/n more and more, until he finally realized that he may have had feelings for the magicless perfect.

Y/n made their way down the halls, when they heard they're name, causing them to lose balance for a split second. Which caused them to fall face first on the floor.

A nearby eel witnessed this incident, and though JADE was close enough to catch the falling perfect, he didn't bother. Nor did he care for them. It was only until he realized how fast they composed themselves, did he gain the slightest interest in talking to them.

The pair engaged in small talk for a while before they had to leave for their respective classrooms.

Ever since that day Jade and Y/n, always somehow encountered each other, many would call it fate. He even began to grow intrigued at they're clumsy nature. And before the eel knew it.. he was in love.

FLOYD LETS HIS LOVE BE KNOWN BY: Floyd casually hands you a bracelet, it seemed handmade. A beautiful blue toned seashell bracelet. "I made it for ya' lil shrimpy" he said, bearing a grin. The gesture seemed unlike him, yet was adorable too. Y/n was so taken aback, that they failed to notice the blush the eel adorned. JADE LETS HIS LOVE BE KNOWN BY: A terrarium, was displayed on your desk with a letter displayed, clearly stating it was for you, there were no signature or name written on the card, simply "To: Y/N L/N", yet you managed to notice that the plants inside was your favorite's, and only a certain Octavinelle student was aware of your favorite plants.

SMALL THINGS FLOYD DOES: Checking up on you, though it doesn't sound like he cares, he would try his best to make sure you're ok, sneakingly passing you, one of his favorite snacks, if he knows you haven't eaten. "I heard ya' didn't eat?" The man searches through his uniform, until he finds something and hands it to you "Well here lil' shrimpy" before you could thank Floyd, he already ran off, staring at your hands, you realize it was your favorite chocolate bar. SMALL THINGS JADE DOES: Making sure you're healthy, analyzing your behaviors, giving you a plant that helps with sleep, herbal tea recipes, hell on his free days the man invites you for tea. Jade had asked if you wanted to come over to Octavinelle for some tea, of course the invitation was surprising, and you were more than surprised at the beginning. But you agreed nonetheless. "I'm glad you came, perfect." The eel grinned, it would have seemed frightening if you hadn't grown so used to it by now.

JADE and FLOYD were both completely unaware of how they were wooing the same person, until one day, they were confronted by Y/n themselves.

The oblivious perfect was unaware of the mistake they had made, completely unaware of how much both brothers loved them, oblivious as they were, at that moment even an idiot would know what was going on...

WHO WOULD THEY CHOOSE?

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation from me.

[websterss]

What if you were crazy but Ethan is even more crazy about (yall) each other even going so far as to murdering each other's ex's just to be with each other And Mindy thinks that your just a nice and" innocent " person that couldn't hurt a bug while she thinks Ethan is insane and would hurt anything

Even Sam Thinks the same way about Y/n and Ethan Her and Mindy would be talking about it a lot I mean I lot 🤭

I’m trying to finish my fics and Im getting encouraged by these headcannons 😭😂😂

Alright here we go!

Mindy and Sam would be at the apartment, Sam is cooking while Mindy leans against the counter naming off every reason it could be Ethan.

“I’m telling you Sam. Ethan is ghost face. Okay we hardly know him, he most definitely juked the roommate lottery. And he wooed his way into our lives by getting our best friend to fall in love with him. He’s sticking to the classic Stab 2.”

“Wasn’t there an actually ghost face killing people on a college campus though?” Sam raises a brow.

“Yeah, Nancy loomis and Mickey Altieri. The only time where the victims where in a different location.” Mindy looks up and winces. “Too soon?”

“Yeah…”

“Look all I’m saying is we don’t really know him and I think he’s more than capable of hurting us. I mean have you seen how tall he is. Sure height isn’t a playing factor when it comes to all the previous ghost faces but in his advantage it would most definitely work in his favor.”

Sam laughs, shaking her head. “What would Y/n think of you saying all this shit about her boyfriend?”

“That beautiful angel would thank me, for saving her life, and warning her about her psycho boyfriend.”

“Sure she would.” Sam scoffs. “How do know she’s an angel? What if there’s a deep serial killer underneath that smile.” Sam hums.

“Don’t disrespect my girl like that. Okay? Y/n wouldn’t hurt a fly. Remember that spider she found in her room.” Sam rolls her eyes at Mindy. “She let it go, anyone with half a mind would squash it. Not our Y/n. She let it go. Y/n wouldn’t hurt anything or anyone if her life depended on it. Okay, she’s not even on my list of suspects, hell the list doesn’t even apply to that beauty.”

“But it applies to her boyfriend?”

“It sure does!”

-

Meanwhile somewhere behind a dumpster. A guy that looked at you and girl that looked at him, cowered into the farthest corners begging for their lives.

“Please…please. W-What ever we did we’re sorry!”

You and Ethan turn to look at each other through the masks you wore, then slowly looked down at the two. You both raise your knives and watch as the two scream.

-

“Hey, hey. I’m home!” You call out as you walk into the door with Ethan in toll. “Ethan’s here too!”

Sam meets Mindy’s eyes with a smirk. Mindy rolls her eyes.

“Speak of the devil…Hey!” Her annoyed look turns to one joy seeing you pop into the kitchen. A tight lipped grin on her face.

“What’s up? Smells good in here!” You lean back into Ethan’s chest, his arm wrapped around you.

[tenelkadjowrites]

A Little Less Lonely - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🍺Summary: Things grow complicated with rich guy Seonghwa after turning his offer to go on a date down only to discover that perhaps you are closer with him than originally believed.

🍺Word count: 11k

🍺Genre and warnings: one shot smut. fem pronouns for reader. mentions of drinking. dirty talk, reader is called “slut” and “whore”. fingering. squirting. unprotected sex. creampie. 

🍺Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @iusrene - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multihoe-net - @spiderlilyfics - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @rdiamond2727 - @dreamtof0rget - @xirenex 

this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

               The pizza tastes more like grease than actual food, the building is far too crowded, and there are not enough chairs at the table.

               So, in other words, it is a typical Friday night.

               “Woo stole half my slices,” You complain to no one in particular, the same thing you say every Friday night when you and your friend group descends upon the pizza place near Hongjoong’s apartment building.

               Wooyoung, who is halfway through his fourth piece, grins at you with a full mouth. You go to kick him but Yeosang yelps instead. Whoops. San is over by the jukebox, spending ages picking a song. This is how it always goes.

               The pizza place is one of those hole in the wall businesses that has a clientele just of locals. The food is cheap, the beer cheaper, and the neon signs a little too bright, warping everything just enough to make the place feel surreal.

               Every Friday, your friend group piles into the building, taking up half the restaurant in a noisy pile. This is how it has been for a few years now with little change. It is a comforting routine, one that has yet to be displaced in your life.

               Your phone buzzes in your lap, drawing your attention from the stolen pizza. Glancing downwards, the name winks up at you: 💋Pen Pal.

           Checking to make sure that your friend next to you isn’t paying attention (and she isn’t, having secretly harbored a crush on Mingi for two years now, too busy staring at him to notice anything else), you open the text.

               “Another Friday night and I’m thinking about you in my lap.”

               You fight off a smile, not wanting anyone to ask what has captivated you. It is too difficult to explain that a text sent to you accidentally instead of the right number six months ago sparked off a series of sexting messages that continue to this day. How do you try to tell a person that you sext a total stranger, have never seen them, and know nothing about, including their name? The person apologized for the wrong message sent late one night, which had been risqué, and the two of you kept texting. One thing led to another and now you regularly sext with an anonymous person. People would think the situation is odd although you don’t know how it is any different than what others do online regularly.

               You are about to reply when the table jolts and a curse flies through the air. Startled, you look upwards to see Hongjoong apologizing for spilling beer all over Seonghwa’s plate. Seonghwa has a slight scowl on his face although it is difficult to gauge if it is his regular one that he wears often or from the beer spilling.

               Out of everyone in the friend circle, it is Seonghwa that you know the least. It isn’t that you dislike him or anything. But there is a disconnect between him and everyone else; it simply boils down to the fact that Seonghwa comes from money, a lot of money, and can be out of touch because of it. Hongjoong had met him back in college, the two striking up a fast friendship, and therefore ushering Seonghwa into the circle.

               Your conversations with Seonghwa have been minor. Even though he is objectively stunning to look at with his slender frame, high cheekbones, and slightly aloof manner that seems to have people tripping over themselves for his attention, you have kept your distance. He has always gotten whatever he wanted, including people, and you find it off putting.

               Hongjoong is trying to mop up the beer off the slice of pizza with a napkin as Seonghwa looks down at it distastefully.

               “It’s fine,” He cuts off Hongjoong swiftly, “I’ll just buy another slice.”

               “Why don’t you buy the whole pizza place while you’re at it?” San remarks as he returns to the table, Woo cackling at the joke.

               “I would but I doubt this place turns a profit. Amazing it is still here.” Seonghwa replies coolly, standing up. “Does anyone else want anything?”

               Naturally, Wooyoung does. As people shout their orders, your attention turns back to your phone, typing up the reply, “Now doesn’t that sound comfortable?” It is exciting to text someone that has no impact on your life, no strings attached, just mindless sexting without anything else to worry about.

               Your friend nudges you, shattering your thoughts as you glance upwards. “What?”

               “I asked if you need anything.” It is Seonghwa who is speaking directly to you, his phone lighting up in the palm of his hand as he shoves it in the pocket of his designer jeans.

               “Nope, I’m good, thanks.” You reply, turning your attention to your friend.

               That has always been the extent of your conversations with Seonghwa.

               Until tonight.

*

               It is close to midnight when everyone begins to amble home. You live close enough to walk and are shrugging on your jacket when your phone goes off again. You check the message from the anonymous pen pal which says boring night, would rather you were sucking my cock. The message makes you both blush and feel a heat in between your legs.

               “Hey, come on,” Your friend nudges you, leaving the message unanswered for the moment.

               Leaving the pizza place, stepping out into the city, a swirl of Friday night activity, everyone begins to head in different directions. A few wait for Ubers, others opt to walk, and some, like San and Wooyoung, are going to another bar. Seonghwa is waiting for his limo, off to the side, away from everyone, checking his phone.

               “You want me to walk with you?” Your friend offers.

               “Nah, it’s only like a five minute walk. I’ll text you when I get home,” You nod at Hongjoong who passes by, his apartment in the opposite direction of yours, “Talk soon.”

               A group piles into an Uber, leaving just a couple left now. As the night comes to a close, you begin your walk. On the way past Seonghwa, his head snaps up and he begins to trail after you. Curiously, you stop, looking over your shoulder.

               “Uh, hey.” You say, unsure of his sudden focus shifting like this.

               “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

               Your curiosity hitting an all time high, you turn around to face him. Seonghwa is wearing just a simple black t-shirt and jeans but you aren’t fooled. The clothes easily cost more than a month’s rent on your tiny shoebox apartment. His cologne even smells expensive. His black hair has not a strand out of place even though it is windy tonight.

               “Yeah, what’s up?” You are wondering if going to get iced coffee again in the morning would be a bad idea because you have already justified “treating yourself” to it multiple times this week, your focus already drifting away from Seonghwa.

               “I wanted to ask if you would want to go out sometime next week on a date.”

               All thoughts of iced coffee are quickly expunged from your brain. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Surely, you have misunderstood.

               Impatience creeps slightly into his voice as he says the same sentence again. Confused, you can only stare at him for a few seconds before going, “Why?”

               He seems taken aback by this. “What do you mean?”

               “I mean, why are you asking me out? We barely talk. I know we see each other a lot because we have friends in common but I don’t understand what brought this on.”

               Seonghwa looks genuinely confused. His brows furrow, his head tilted slightly to one side, lips pursed as he thinks about your question. For some reason, the fact he doesn’t have an answer at the tip of his tongue annoys you.

               “I just thought you’d want to go out with me.” He finally replies in the same questioning tone.

               This brings you up short. “What is this, some sort of favor to me? Did you go down a list and see you hadn’t asked me out yet or something?”

               “Well, you’re always talking about how you don’t get to do anything fun because you’re on a budget so I thought I’d do you a favor and ask you out.” The light from a nearby neon bar sign bathes him in a blue hue, making him look like he has stepped out of a painting. When a strong gust of wind kicks up, his hair finally moves slightly, bringing his appearance back from other worldly to grounded in reality.

               You don’t even know how to reply and for a few seconds, you are speechless. His words and attitude are so offensive that all you can do is stare at him as if he has grown a second head.

               “What?” He asks, somewhat defensively, “I don’t understand why you look upset.”

               You take a step towards him, looking at his face – his perfect face, with the blue neon smattered lightly against high cheekbones, his eyes hazy with confusion, his hands jammed into his pockets. “You are not doing me a favour by asking me out, Seonghwa. I’m not some poor person you can take pity on and think you are doing charity because you want to dazzle me with your money. I don’t care that you’re rich.”

               He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, looking slightly exasperated now. “Fine, I get it. You don’t care about my money. Everyone says that at first. But it simply isn’t true. Everyone cares about money. So, let me take you out.”

               You suddenly feel a sharp pang of pity for the handsome man in front of you who has been lucky enough to find a friendship with Hongjoong. In that friendship Seonghwa has found the only man on the planet who hasn’t been impressed by his money or attempted to manipulate him to gain closer access to wealth. How many times must have Seonghwa mistakenly believed that his only asset is his wealth – to the point that he flaunts it so openly to garner attention? Suddenly, you feel as if you understand him more than ever before like a dirty mirror being cleaned.

               “No, you misunderstood. I don’t care about your money because I don’t care about you in that way, Seonghwa.” You say gently, knowing that the only thing you can gift him in this moment is the assurance that his wealth is not even a passing thought for you and certainly not a reason to go out with him.

               Seonghwa is startled into silence. You take one last look at him, fighting the urge to gently pat him on the shoulder, aware that no one has rejected him before. Then, you turn around and begin your walk home, leaving Seonghwa standing in the blue light.

*

               It isn’t until the following weekend that you see Seonghwa again although admittedly you give him asking you out very little thought. What is there to think about? Seonghwa believed that dating him was like winning the lottery. It was the most off putting manner someone had ever asked you out.

               Even so, when you walk into San and Wooyoung’s apartment Saturday night, it is awkward to see him. Standing in the corner next to Hongjoong, in a pair of grey slacks and a light brown long sleeved shirt that is cut in such a way that it exposes some of his chest, with not a hair out of place on his head, Seonghwa looks impeccable as always. He is listening to Jongho although he seems to sense when you enter, his eyes flicking upwards to land on you. His gaze is unreadable simply because you don’t know him well enough to properly gauge what he is thinking. He only looks at you for a second before turning his attention back to Jongho.

               At least twice a month, San and Wooyoung hold a party at their apartment. They moved in three months ago, and since their place has an impressive balcony, they love to entertain. By leaps and bounds their place is much nicer than your own, and it was always fun to come over and hang out.

               You pop out onto the balcony to say hello to them before making your way through the small cluster of people to the kitchen. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, momentarily getting your attention.

               “Your turn.” is all the message says.

               The past hour, you have been texting your mystery person, discussing kinks. It is your turn to share one although you don’t get a chance to because it is at that moment that Yunho bustles into the kitchen, pulling you into a conversation.

               It is about ten minutes into this discussion when Seonghwa enters the space. His eyes slide over you as if not even there, landing on Yunho.

               “I have the money from earlier this week.” Seonghwa announces.

               Yunho looks surprised. “Don’t worry about it. It was just a coffee order.”

               “Even so.” Seonghwa says, shoving his hand in his pocket to drop his car keys on the counter, along with his phone. Then he pulls out a thin stack of money, handing Yunho ten dollars. You cannot imagine what sort of coffee Seonghwa ordered that cost a full ten dollars and you aren’t sure that you want to know. Even spending six bucks on an iced coffee is hard enough to justify to yourself, a bad habit that you struggle to break, your one vice.

               You try not to look at him as he hands the money over but you do spare a quick glance. You went from barely noticing Seonghwa in the friend circle to now being acutely aware of where he is. You wish that he hadn’t asked you out…or at least hadn’t asked you out in such an insulting manner.

               He snatches his car keys off the counter and leaves as Yunho turns his attention to you. “What was that about?”

               “What do you mean?”

               “You two. Weird tension going on there.”

               You sigh. “We had a disagreement of sorts. You know how Seonghwa can be. Sometimes his money makes it feel as if he is from another planet.”

               “He can be oblivious, yeah, but he’s a good guy.”

               “What makes you say that?”

               Yunho pulls a beer out of the fridge, giving a small shrug. “I don’t think Hongjoong would be best friends with someone who wasn’t, right?”

               Mingi pops his head into the kitchen, looking very excited, “Yunho, we’re going to start the grill up.”

               At the prospect of grilled meat, all thoughts of Seonghwa and weird tension are gone. “Oh, I gotta go. Good talking to you!” He says quickly, practically darting out of the room.

               The kitchen is now empty and you feel strangely alone. I don’t think Hongjoong would be best friends with someone who wasn’t, right? The words bang around in your head for a few seconds as you grab a beer and lean against the kitchen counter, pulling your phone out of your pocket again, chewing on your bottom lip, thinking of something to say back to your pen pal.

               Yet your mind goes back to Seonghwa, standing on the sidewalk in the blue neon light, your rejection loud in your head. No, you misunderstood. I don’t care about your money because I don’t care about you in that way, Seonghwa. Some part of you wonders if your words were overly harsh. But the other part of you thinks they were fine – he had been insulting, after all, regardless of if he meant it or not.

               “Don’t you think that you learned enough about me tonight?” You tease back in the text, hitting send.

               A phone goes off on the counter, causing you to flinch. Turning your attention downward, you realize that Seonghwa has forgotten his phone, most likely because he was scurrying to get away from you. Frowning, you lean forward to peer at the screen. The text message alert just says it is from someone called pen pal.

               You stare at the phone, breath catching, for a few seconds before it goes dark. Has to be a coincidence. Weird timing. And pen pal is common. Doesn’t mean…You swallow hard, the words seeming hollow inside your head. You wonder if Seonghwa has a lock on his phone and then quickly chastise yourself. What makes you think that it is okay to go through his phone? Even so, you stand on the precipice of throwing your morals away. It isn’t like I am snooping. I’m just going to check one text message and make sure that it isn’t him. Your hand hovers over Seonghwa’s phone, which is the latest model that you aren’t even sure has officially come out yet, so close yet tantalizing out of reach –

               Only for Seonghwa to sweep back into the kitchen. Startled, you smash your hand down on the counter with your open palm next to his phone. Seonghwa stops, looking at you curiously.

               “Bug.” You explain, “Don’t worry though. I took care of it.”

               “Right.” Seonghwa replies dryly, “I forgot my phone.”

               He comes over, standing next to you as he picks it up. But instead of leaving, he leans forward slightly, just enough to pop your personal space bubble. Some of his hair falls in front of his face, grazing against his cheek. His eyelashes are dark smears against his skin. You can smell that expensive cologne again.

               “You want a napkin for the bug?” He asks casually and you know he doesn’t believe your lie.

               “Nope, I’m good.” Your voice is filled with an artificial tone.

               He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before pulling away, leaving with the phone in his hand. You exhale slowly, following him, unlocking your phone and bringing up your text conversation. In the dining room, your friend motions for you to come over. You know she is going to want to discuss Mingi. You hold up your hand and gesture to your phone, pretending like you need to make an important call. She motions for you to meet her on the balcony and ducks out of the room once you nod.

               Going to the corner, you stare at the phone screen. There is an unwritten rule between you and the sexting partner that calling is out of the question. Everything exists solely through texts. If you call, and have misunderstood the situation, there is the potential of ruining the fun. But you know that not calling will result in brooding and overthinking about if the universe would truly be as cruel as to make Seonghwa the person on the other side of the screen.

               Seonghwa is in a small circle of Hongjoong, Yeosang and a couple of other people you only vaguely know. The space has a few people roaming about, mostly because San and Wooyoung have put snacks out on the table. The music has increased slightly in volume since arriving, indicating that the party is about to be in full swing.

               Steeling yourself like a young kid going on their first rollercoaster, you press the button to call your pen pal and bring the phone to your ear. Your chest feels as if it is covered in a layer of thin ice – one misstep and it will shatter, plunging you in the depths.

               Seonghwa’s phone goes off loudly. He looks down at it, his brows furrowing. You cannot see the screen but you can imagine he must be frowning because the unwritten rule is being broken. He brings the phone upwards –

               “Hello?” Says a voice at the other end of the line as well as from across the room, the word toppling out of Seonghwa’s lips in slow motion, a visible heavy thing that lands with a solid thunk across the ice, shattering it completely. Your stomach swoops violently and it is then that Seonghwa looks up.

               You can see the realization dawn on him immediately, the way the pieces click together as he lowers the phone slowly, staring at you. Hongjoong nudges him, asking what happened. It is that movement that snaps you out of your own staring. Ending the call, you hastily put the beer on the table and cut through the kitchen, anxious to get out of the apartment. Logically, you know that it is rude not to tell your friends that you are leaving already. But the mortification of having been sexting Seonghwa for months combined with your rejection of him just a week prior is making the entire apartment feel too small and cramped for your liking.

               The next couple of minutes are a blur, from the hallway to the elevator to finally spilling out into the night air. The sun has dipped below the horizon, a dark blanket across the city. You decide just to walk home. That will clear your head. On second thought, maybe you’ll stop at a bar and get a drink somewhere. That might help dull all the emotions that are vying for your attention –

               “Are you really running off?”

               The voice shatters your thoughts. Looking over your shoulder, you see Seonghwa exiting the building. A thin brown jacket is casually tossed over his shoulders, his hair slightly messy for once as if he had run his fingers through it excessively on the way down.

               “This is embarrassing enough, don’t you think?” You cross your arms as he approaches.

               “Actually, I find it amazing we were able to text each other this long and not somehow find out sooner.”

               “Well, it’s difficult to find out when we are both glued to our phones.” You grumble.

               A silence passes. In the distance, there are sirens. A car drives by blaring music. Seonghwa shifts slightly, and you get the sense that behind the façade of calmness, he also finds the situation awkward. You aren’t sure what to say to the man who you have been sexting for months – it is like you know him in the most personal way possible yet not at all.

               “I’m going home now,” You declare when he doesn’t say anything, “I would appreciate it if you don’t tell Hongjoong about this or anything we texted about. It’s personal. You understand.”

               “Wait,” Seonghwa says, taking a step closer, “Come get a drink with me.”

               With a sigh, you reply, “I don’t want to go out with you. We’ve established this.”

               He gives an impatient shake of his head. “We hit it off texting. A simple number error and I texted you instead, we were flirting in seconds and sexting that night. And it’s been like that for months. Don’t you wonder how we can hit it off so well like that and barely speak to one another in real life?”

               “We have absolutely nothing in common, that’s why. Half the time you’re not around because you’re jet setting off to some exotic location just for fun, the other half you’re unapproachable because what could I possibly talk to you about? How the shirt you bought cost more than my rent? How you get around via limo?”

               There is a fevered glimmer in Seonghwa’s eyes when he replies, “But when all the differences were gone, we hit it off just fine. We had a natural chemistry.”

               He isn’t wrong but you don’t want to admit it. “I just don’t understand how the Seonghwa in the texts and the Seonghwa who asked me out as if doing me a favor are the same person.”

               “So, have a drink with me and find out.”

               You hesitate. If it had been anyone else, going out for a drink would be a no brainer. The fact is you are still a little sore over how he asked you out as if you were a charity case. But it is impossible to deny that the sexting conversations with him had a natural chemistry, one that began immediately upon realizing he texted the wrong number.

               You wonder why Seonghwa cares this much to follow up on such a thing before remembering what you thought when he asked you out – how his money can buy him attention but how many true friends can it give him outside of Hongjoong? Hadn’t you pitied him in that moment?

               “He can be oblivious, yeah, but he’s a good guy.”

               “What makes you say that?”

               “I don’t think Hongjoong would be best friends with someone who wasn’t, right?”

               “Fine,” The words pop out of your mouth, “But just one drink.”

               Relief crosses his features so quickly that you might have imagined it. He pulls out his phone, going, “I know a great place downtown –”

               You hold up your hand. “Nope. No. I’m not going to some fancy place in the financial district where a cocktail costs thirty bucks or something ridiculous.”

               Taken aback, he blinks. “Uhm. Where are we going to go then?”

               It is your turn to pull out your phone, bringing up the map, scanning some places. “There’s a place the next block over. We’ll go there.”

               Seonghwa still looks perplexed. You don’t know if it’s because he isn’t planning the event or because it will be outside of his cushy comfort zone. But he follows when you take off in the direction of the bar, not protesting. You pretend to be paying extra attention to your phone, as if the way to the bar is so complicated it simply has to be navigated with strict concentration, and not because you are acutely aware of how weird this entire situation is.

               It doesn’t take long to reach the location. The bar is a hole in the wall sort of place, easily missable if it weren’t for the blasting of generic rock music every time the door swings open. You look over at Seonghwa, who looks as if he has just stepped in dog shit.

               “What is this?”

               “It’s called a dive bar. I can Google it for you.”

               He composes his feature into an elegant expression of haughtiness. “I know what a dive bar is.”

               “Then why did you ask?” When he frowns at this, you go, “Come on.” and enter the building.

               Since it is Saturday night, the place is filled. The music is loud, the place stinks of cigarettes and booze, with people playing pool in one corner, darts in another, and a crowd at the bar. Seonghwa, who has turned into the equivalent of the standing emoji, looks completely out of his element.

               “You and Hongjoong never went to bars like this in college?” You say, your voice raised to be heard over the music.

               “Uhm, no.” Seonghwa replies – you can’t actually hear him but can read the reply on his lips.

               You laugh and take off towards the bar, Seonghwa trailing behind. Pushing through the crowd, you manage to find two people leaving near the corner, and with a little extra nudging, score the seats for Seonghwa and yourself. Seonghwa glances at the barstool briefly as if checking for spilled beer and then sits on it primly.

               You had to give him a little credit, you think begrudgingly, he hasn’t complained once.

               When the bartender comes by, you order. Seonghwa orders a beer you haven’t heard of – and neither has the bartender.

               “What is that? I don’t have that.” He barks at Seonghwa impatiently, “Pick something on tap, kid.”

               “Kid?” Seonghwa sputters before you cut in and order for him.

               A few seconds later the beer is poured and slid over to the two of you, the bartender leaving immediately to deal with other patrons. You take a sip of yours as Seonghwa looks at his glass distrustfully.

               “What is it?” You ask.

               “Nothing, I just…I don’t think this glass was as cleaned as it should be.” He replies, eyes darting over to the bartender and then to the chalkboard with the list of beers scribbled on it.

               “What did you try to order, anyway? It was some fancy beer, wasn’t it?”

               Seonghwa looks chagrined. “Wasn’t that fancy.”

               “You gotta speak up in these places,” You scooch the barstool closer to him, your knees briefly touching, “I can’t hear you.”

               “Why don’t they lower the music?” He grumbles.

               “Come on. I said one drink. And I’ve already started taking sips. This is the closest you’re going to get to going on a date with me.”

               Seonghwa shifts his body slightly to look at you, his hand curling around his beer glass. His fingers are long, slender, and one simple ring with diamonds around the band rests delicately on one digit.

               “This feels more like an interview.”

               “Oh, do you not like it? I assume it feels similar to someone asking you out because they want to impress you with money,” When Seonghwa looks sheepish, you continue, “Does that work? Impressing people with money? You make a lot of friends that way? Like true friends, the same level as Hongjoong.”

               His eyes meet yours. For a moment, you think he is going to lie. “No. It doesn’t work. They leave once I stop buying everything. Or they meet someone with more money. Hongjoong is the only one who has stuck around.”

               “You have everyone else in the friend circle. You don’t talk to any of them?”

               “Come on,” He looks away from you, running one finger along the rim of his glass, “Everyone is nice enough but you know I’m not close to them. I’m only there because of Hongjoong.”

               He isn’t wrong. You could refute the statement and feed him bullshit. But he hadn’t lied to you just now and you decide not to do the same.

               “Why do you think that is?”

               Seonghwa gives a small shrug. “It took a long time for Hongjoong and I to become best friends. In my experience, everyone wants something from me. I get it. I don’t blame them for it. So, I decided to preempt people pretending to be my friend by just offering the possibility of money and a fun time right off the bat.”

               “But those people aren’t friends.”

               “No. But I felt a little less lonely with them around.” Seonghwa replies simply.

               The words take you by surprise. It is the most forthcoming you have ever heard him talk. The worst part is how he stated it in such a blunt way; clearly, he isn’t looking for pity, it is just factual to him – people spend time around him if they can get something out of it and he allows it because he can pretend they care about him.

               “Where did your family get all that money from anyway? Your dad the inventor of the toaster strudel or something?”

               “Very funny,” Seonghwa replies dryly. “I think Wooyoung made the same joke once.”

               “He would.” You take another sip of your beer before asking, “Does it bother you to hang out with us then? I mean if you don’t feel like part of the group.”

               “No. Hongjoong is the only person who took time to get to know me in my entire life. If his other friends are important to him then I don’t mind spending time with them. It’s the least I can do. I have no interest in making things awkward. I’m not oblivious. I know that I am on the outskirts of the group. But I like everyone in it well enough. I just know my money is a barrier to growing closer to them.”

               “But it wasn’t a barrier to Hongjoong. Maybe if you let your guard down a little, you’d find others in the group are the same. I really don’t think the others would care about getting things from you. I mean, if I wanted something from you, wouldn’t I have gone out with you? I won’t be the only person in the group that feels that way.”

               Seonghwa looks a little surprised as if he has never considered that before. Casting a glance around the bar, he replies, “Yes but what if everyone wants to hang out in places like this? The pizza place is enough.”

               It takes you a second to realize that isn’t him being snobby. He’s actually making a joke. He looks relieved when you laugh and you see his shoulders relax slightly.

               “Who did you mean to text that night?” You ask suddenly, the question leaving your lips before you can wonder if it is okay to so clearly talk about the fact Seonghwa has been your secret sexting partner for months.

               “Oh, hm,” He frowns, looking down at his drink, “I think I had a date that weekend. I was trying to organize it so I was flirting. But I never found out the right number. So, it fell through. It worked out though, don’t you think?”

               “What do you mean? You didn’t get to go on the date.”

               Seonghwa leans forward slightly, his shoulders a little hunched, hand curled around the glass. Up this close, his eyes are more like dark pools, and his cheeks are somewhat flushed with colour from the heat of all the people cloistered together in the bar.

               “Because we started talking.” He says in a low voice that you can somehow hear over the music.

               For some reason, your heart skips and it becomes difficult to maintain eye contact. “Is that what you call it?”

               The corners of his mouth quirk up for a moment. “In a way.”

               “Did it help?” You realize your voice has dropped to almost a whisper, which in turn causes Seonghwa to move even closer to hear you.

               “I was a little less lonely.” He repeats but this time, there is an edge to his voice, a sort of huskiness that makes your heart race just a little bit more than before, his eyes dropping to look at your lips.

               Momentarily arrested by his voice and expression, you think about how many times you had gotten off to things he texted you late at night. Of course you always wondered who was at the other end of sending such messages – what did they do all day to have them stay up late at night to text a stranger nothing but sexual things and leave their own personal selves locked away? Neither of you had attempted to learn anything else about the other; it made it more exciting and felt like there were no strings attached at the same time. All it would take would be to block the number and move on if one felt so inclined.

               But now you are staring directly at that person in a dive bar early Saturday night. The late nights make sense – Seonghwa, closely guarding himself, having been burned one too many times, only letting Hongjoong gain access to who he truly is, finding comfort in talking to someone who knows nothing about him nor his wealth. He is right that people did treat him differently because he is rich, yourself included. You found him distant and attributed it to the barrier of income between him and the rest of the group. That remains partly true but there was something else at work at the same time: his fear and loneliness forming the rest of the blockage.

               Your knees are still pressing together, something that you are now acutely aware of. In fact, you are overly aware of Seonghwa in general – how close he is to you, the curve of his hand around the beer glass, the way his shirt rests flat against his chest, dipping down slightly to show more of his skin than you are used to seeing, all the way down to his expensive leather shoes.

               “You know, you never answered the question from earlier.” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

               “What question?” It takes it a second to click. “Oh. You mean in our texts. It was my turn to tell you something I liked.”

               Seonghwa nods. Across the bar, a group of people laugh loudly, and he tilts his head to the side to glance over at them. You study his profile for a moment – the way the dim lights of the bar rest on his skin, the curve of his nose, his lips slightly parted as he studies them.

               “Oh, will you look at that? My beer is done. We’re out of time.” You say, pushing the empty glass towards Seonghwa.

               He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “I’m not finished mine. You drank yours so quickly. That anxious to go?”

               “You’ve taken two sips since you got yours. Not up to your high quality standard, I assume?” You fire back, nudging his knee a little with yours at the joke.

               “Does everyone going on a date with you only get one drink of your time or am I getting unfairly punished?” Seonghwa turns his face back to look at you.

               “Depends if I’m going to sleep with them or not.” You retort.

               This time, Seonghwa leans so close that for a second, you think he is going to kiss you. But instead, while looking directly in your eyes, he goes, “I could fuck you better than them, you know.”

               The words knock you completely off kilter. Seonghwa sounds exactly as he does in all the text messages sent the past few months. But to hear it come from his mouth is entirely different. Your breath catches, that familiar heat starting to tug for your attention. No one has been able to drive you crazy with just words like Seonghwa has. You aren’t sure if you can withstand it in person without cracking.

               “Do you want to go on a walk together?” You ask, “Seeing as you usually are in that limo of yours.”

               He studies your face for a second, replying, “Sure. Let me just close out the tab.”

               You hop off the barstool, purposely placing your hands on his knees to steady yourself (and to watch the expression on his face change just enough to let you know what he is thinking about). “I’m going to pick a really annoying song from the jukebox to play since we’re leaving.”

               At this, Seonghwa laughs. With a jolt, you realize this is a true laugh compared to the other ones you have seen which is always more of a low chuckle with a smile that looks like he is in visible pain. It transforms his face, wiping away the reserved nature he usually holds.

               “What’s the point of that?” He asks.

               You shrug. “To be annoying, duh.”

               As Seonghwa goes to pay for the drinks, you pull some money out of your bag, peering at the jukebox to find something irritating. The bar is more crowded now, especially at the pool tables, and the body heat is making you feel warm. You glance over your shoulder, watching Seonghwa toss some money on the bar counter, shouting a thank you to the bartender that more than likely got lost in the din of noise. He looks handsome, you think suddenly, admiring Seonghwa from afar.

               Turning your attention back to the jukebox, you flick through some of the options. Seonghwa comes up behind you, and to your surprise, rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms snaking around your waist briefly to pull you back against him. The movement is intimate yet you feel completely at ease with it. In fact, you feel more than at ease – the electricity is a sharp current between the two of you, the desire that typically has been regulated to just texting spilling out into real life.

               “Pick something yet?” Seonghwa asks, his lips close to your ear, snaking down your spine.

               “Not yet. Any ideas?” You hope your voice sounds neutral; you don’t want him to know how turned on you are.

               One hand trails down your back before briefly grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze. It happens quickly but your heart rate increases rapidly and it is all you can do not to turn around and kiss him in the middle of the bar. Instead, you push your ass back against his hand.

               “Pick that one. It’s annoying.” He murmurs, his breathing changing just enough to somehow turn you on more.

               Seonghwa pressed up against your body like this is starting to make you feel like a lion pacing a cage. You pick the song; it begins to blast out of the jukebox as you pull away from Seonghwa, motioning for him to follow.

               Wiggling through the crowd, you step out into the night air with Seonghwa right behind you. Even so, the noise from the bar is still too loud and you lead him down the sidewalk, away from the block filled with restaurants and bars that are crowded due to it being Saturday.

                The temperature has dropped a bit, a nice break from how hot the bar was getting. Seonghwa runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head back slightly which catches the light from the streetlamps. He looks different…or perhaps it is you who has changed your perception of him.

               “I can feel you staring.” He says suddenly, turning to look at you.

               As the two of you round the corner, Seonghwa’s arm slinks around your waist, pressing your back against a building. You gasp slightly in surprise, closer to him than you have been before. Your body responds to him in a way that you didn’t think was possible until tonight, the heat returning between your legs. You tilt your face back and that is when Seonghwa kisses you.

               It is like every nerve in your body goes off like a firework. Sure, you have sexted Seonghwa many times about kissing, among other subjects, but not once had you ever looked at Seonghwa in real life and thought about it. Now, you wonder how it will be possible to not spend every moment thinking about it.

               All the months of sexting spills out in the kiss which quickly grows from lustful to downright desperate. Pressing your body against his, your hands going around his neck to pull him closer, Seonghwa lets out a soft groan against your lips. His hands drop down to your ass and this time he grips it with both hands, squeezing it so hard that it drives you forward against him, letting you feel how stiff his cock is in his pants.

               Seonghwa tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth while still groping your ass. It takes all you can do not to grind against his cock seeing as you are in the middle of the street. Your hands grip his hair, giving it a sharp tug when your lips meet again for another kiss. This time, his tongue pushes against yours and you make a low sound in the back of your throat.

               “Get a room.” Someone snaps as they walk by, sounding disgusted.

               The stranger’s words bring you back to reality. Seonghwa pulls away, glancing at the person as they round the corner. He is breathing quickly, cheeks tinged pink as he looks back at you.

               “So,” He says, his voice a little shaky, “Do you want to come to my place?”

               “Sounds good. But,” You add, “I’m not getting in a limo.”

*

               One Uber and elevator ride later, you are stepping into Seonghwa’s penthouse apartment in a luxury high rise that you have driven by a thousand times and wondered the sort of people who must live there. Now, you know it includes Seonghwa.

               The living room is massive, minimalist with nothing out of place, exceptionally clean, with windows that open out to a balcony that overlooks the city. Even though it is kept in immaculate condition, it still feels as if Seonghwa spends a lot of time here – a chair near the windows is worn, a book left open on it, a jacket tossed hurriedly on the back of the couch as if Seonghwa was running late somewhere and changed his mind about bringing it. On a shelf there are framed photos and polaroids of different locations, his family, and occasionally Hongjoong. A blanket is on the couch with pillows propped up in one corner as if Seonghwa watches television and falls asleep out here often. One lone plant is in the corner, its leaves dipping silently as if bowing for water.

               “Can I get you anything? Water?” Seonghwa asks as you walk into the living room, immediately switching into playing the good host as if the two of you hadn’t just been making out in the street, turning on a lamp.

               After refusing, you sit down on the couch – which you don’t even wanna think about how much it costs – and gingerly touch the fabric of the blanket. “You sleep out here a lot?”

               “Sometimes,” He says, scurrying over, “Sorry about the mess.”

               You want to laugh but he is being serious, sweeping the blanket and pillow off the couch and placing it neatly on the chair with the book. You watch as he does so, taking notice of things you hadn’t before in all the time spent around him: the curve of his neck, his hair curled slightly at the back, the way the fabric of his shirt rests against his back.

              Seonghwa sits down next to you on the couch and you shift your body to face him. Wanting him feels almost painful in the intensity and it is all you can do just not to lean forward and kiss him.

            “You know, the way that you asked me out pissed me off.” You say instead.

             Seonghwa’s lips part slightly in surprise for a second. “I assumed.” He finally says. “Are you still upset at me?”

             “You made it seem like it would be fun to go out with me because I would care about being taken to some fancy restaurant, not because you cared about me. I know you date a lot, Seonghwa, and I understand it more now than I did before. I know you are just searching for people who care about you as a person and not your money. So, you challenge them directly by throwing money their way and seeing who passes your test. Only Hongjoong has.”

               Seonghwa exhales, cheeks puffing out as he runs his fingers through his hair, clearly a nervous habit of his. “I’m going to be honest. I invited you over because I thought you’d maybe want to make out or something, not correctly psychoanalyze me.”

            “We can do both.” Your tone is teasing.

            Seonghwa tilts his face in your direction, “You’re right. I was rude. When you asked why I wanted to go out with you, I felt thrown. No one had ever asked that before. And you’re right that I do toss money at people just to see who won’t care and would rather spend time with me,” He sighs, “I sound so cliché though. Poor rich kid can’t make friends cuz he has too much money. What a problem.”

          “Well, I accept your apology but only because you have months of good sexting that works in your favour,” You lean forward, lightly dragging one finger over the top of his hand.

           He turns his hand so that his palm is facing upwards, watching quietly for a moment as you trail your finger across it. “It works in your favour another way too,” His voice has dropped, immediately making you wet, “Because now I know everything you like.”

           “Oh, is that so? Like what?”

            “Well,” Seonghwa shifts again, this time so close that he could kiss you again easily, his hand gently closing around your fingers in a touch that sends electric sparks skirting across the surface of your skin, “I know that you like to be fingered, for one.”

            He isn’t wrong, seeing as there had been many a night where his detailed sexts about getting you off like that led to plenty of nice orgasms. But hearing the words directly from the source makes the longing even more intense.

           “Maybe you can finally demonstrate something you spent so much time writing about.” You murmur as Seonghwa’s other hand comes up to cup your cheek.

           The sensation is slightly dizzying and you marvel at how Seonghwa has gone from a casual acquaintance to someone who can make you feel a passion this overwhelming.

            He brings his lips to yours, tentatively at first, as if the time between the street to arriving here would have changed your mind about wanting him. But when you return the kiss, it bounces back to the passion that was there prior. His hands glide down your body to your sides, pulling you closer against his body. Your hands are flat against his chest, feeling the muscles underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Bringing one hand downward to the tent in his slacks, you rub his cock through them and Seonghwa’s breath catches, a small groan muffled against your lips.

             His hands fumble with the buttons on your jeans and you take over, quickly wiggling out of them and kicking them to the floor. His arms wrap around your waist as Seonghwa leans back down for another kiss, pushing you back against the couch. You pull him down with you, your hands slipping underneath his shirt along his back, feeling his toned skin. His tongue is in your mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist, arching your back a little to grind against his cock. Even with the barriers of fabric, it makes Seonghwa shiver.

           You pull his shirt off, hands running down his shoulders and chest, kissing down along his jaw to his neck before biting down while still grinding against him. He sighs in delight before pulling away, looking down at you.

           “You going to let me finally finger that sweet cunt of yours?” Seonghwa asks bluntly, sounding exactly like his text messages.

            When you nod, there is a glint of pleasure in his eye. He practically tears off your underwear, tossing it to the side as you straighten up a little, your back pressing against the side of the couch. Seonghwa grips your legs, spreading your thighs apart and pushing your legs back to bring your knees to your chest. Normally you would feel shy to be on display like this in front of someone. Yet, surprisingly, you feel entirely comfortable with Seonghwa. In the end, he had been right – the natural chemistry the two of you displayed in the text messages easily shifted over to real life.

           Seonghwa drags his finger along your slit which make your pulse quicken. Besides just the lamp on in the corner of the living room, the only other source of light is from the city spilling across the living room. It drapes half dressed Seonghwa like an enchanted cloak made of stars, making you wonder if you would have ended up in the situation with him sooner if the two of you had an actual conversation in all the time spent near one another.

           But those thoughts quickly fade when he spreads your pussy lips apart gently, his fingers dipping into your hole just enough to make them wet. Bringing them to his lips, his tongue darts across to taste you.

           Seonghwa glances up at you, his lips open a little as if he is going to speak. You look back at him and when you do so, he slips a finger inside your cunt swiftly, taking you by surprise. He smirks at your reaction, wiggling his finger inside you.

           “You’re dripping wet,” He comments, “I have a feeling that you’ve been wet for me all night.”

            As he begins to slowly pump his finger in your cunt, you reply, “How do you know I’m wet for you? What if I was daydreaming about someone else all night?”

           “Please. You’re forgetting that I’ve been making you this wet for months and that I know you’d touch yourself to what I would write late at night.” Seonghwa has that look back in his eye, all conversations of feeling lonely and struggling with making friends washed away in the fact he has his finger buried in your cunt on his couch.

           There really is no retort to be had when he is correct like this. He pulls his finger out and brings his hand down across your pussy, lightly slapping it. You jump in surprise and at the same moment he pushes two fingers back into your hole, starting to fuck you with them.

           “Be a good whore and hold your legs back,” His voice has dropped an octave, his eyes focused on your pussy as he issues the command.

           You do so, and Seonghwa begins to increase the speed at which he fucks you with his long fingers. Half dressed, splayed out in front of him, taking his fingers, you couldn’t think of a stranger turn of events the night could have taken than this. You can hear how wet your pussy is as his fingers press into your hole and you can tell how turned on Seonghwa is by doing this. He bites down on his bottom lip hard as he focuses, driving his fingers deep in your cunt.

           “Look at how well your pussy takes my fingers,” He remarks, “Almost as well as you’re going to take my cock.”

            Some of his hair falls in front of his face and he shakes his head to move it, clearly irritated that it would dare block the image of you taking his fingers like this. He fucks you hard and fast, the muscles in his arm evident as he wiggles them deep in your cunt.

           “Now, you said in your texts that if someone fingered you right, you could squirt,” Seonghwa goes, bringing the conversation back to the front of your mind, your cheeks flushing with colour, “So, are you going to show me like the slut you are or what?”

           Your focus is shattered from how well Seonghwa works his fingers, and the sight of him doing this to you at such a speed that the veins pop out against his skin makes your orgasm draw ever closer.

            “Wouldn’t want to ruin your nice couch,” You manage to say, your voice unsteady, hands gripping your own legs, nails biting into your skin.

           Seonghwa glances up at you, “I can buy another.” He says almost casually and then rams his fingers deep into your cunt.

           A strangled gasp leaves your mouth, your legs shaking from being in this position, Seonghwa only picks up the speed, chasing your orgasm down like a dog with a bone. His other hand grips your thigh, spreading your legs as wide as they can go as his fingers plunge in and out of your wet hole.

           “I remember what else you like too,” Seonghwa says hoarsely, “And it was any time I called you a fucking whore.”

           His words make your eyes close tightly for a moment as the pleasure grows ever larger, blotting out everything else but your desire to finish against his fingers.

           “So, it’s time for you to cum like the fucking whore you are and make a mess on my couch.” His fingers curve upward on the next thrust, “Now.”

             As if your body is responding to him directly, your orgasm begins. With a loud moan, your head rolls back, eyes closing tightly as the shivers run down your back and legs as you climax. Seonghwa doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, the noises obscene as he does so. Your hips raise slightly and as you orgasm, your pussy squirts against his fingers, spilling out across the palm of his hand and onto the couch. It is by far the most intense squirting you have done, and you distantly are aware that Seonghwa’s name is leaving your mouth repeatedly.

          Panting, your eyes open as your orgasm subsides, looking at Seonghwa who is removing his pants and boxers before settling back on the couch. His cock is rock hard in between his legs, dripping precum, his hand wrapping around and stroking it as he leans forward.

          “I’m going to fuck you now, whore, and I’m going to cum in your tight little cunt because I know you get off to that too.” Seonghwa says as his hands move to your legs, keeping your body in the folded position from when he fingered you.

           Even though your cunt is in no need of lubrication at this point, Seonghwa looks down and spits on it just to be obscene. Gripping his cock, he slides it in between your folds before leaning forward, bringing his body against yours, pinning your legs against his chest. As he does so, his cock slides into your cunt easily and he brings his hands down to grip the arm rest of the couch on either side of your head.

          The angle is unreal, your hands now free to press against his sides, feeling his lithe and toned frame under your fingertips. Seonghwa’s breathing changes as he begins to pump his cock inside your pussy which clenches down immediately.

         “See, I knew you would take my cock easily. Just like I knew you would squirt.” His voice is shaky, cheeks bright with colour, “That’s because I know you’re a good slut from all these months of getting you off.”

          His pace quickens, clearly pent up from the entire night and getting you off. Smushed against the couch and his body, taking Seonghwa’s cock as deep as it can go, hard and fast, thinking about him emptying his balls in your hole, you realize that he is going to make you cum again.

          As if sensing where your thoughts went, Seonghwa goes, “You going to cum again like the fucking slut you are? I thought you said it’s tricky to get you off and yet here I am about to make you cum again.” Yet another detail he has filed away from your sexts; you had mentioned one time that partners struggled to make you finish, issuing a challenge to Seonghwa that “if we ever met up”, he would have to see if he could do better. Well, that had been answered.

           Seonghwa, who is relentlessly fucking you into the couch, his breathing laboured, his hair sticking to his forehead from exertion, moves one hand to tilt your face up slightly to look at him.

          “Open your mouth.”

           A thrill goes through you – yet another secret you told Seognhwa late one night. It was easy telling a stranger all the random things you got off to because what were the odds that it would ever matter? Aren’t you glad that you did now.

           You obey and Seonghwa spits in your mouth which makes you moan. Then he crushes his lips against yours, still pumping his hips. You whimper, his tongue against yours, your second orgasm approaching rapidly from the angle and force of his thrusts. The kiss is messy, teeth and tongue, your fingers digging into his back as he ploughs into you. When the kiss breaks, his lips graze yours with each word spoken.

          “You always fuck people after one drink or am I just special?”

           “Special,” You groan, his skin hard under your fingers.

            “You’re special too, my whore. So, why don’t you cum around my cock so I can finish in your cunt?”

            He slams his hips down, his cock all the way inside you, and the motion sends you over the edge. Groaning out Seonghwa’s name, your second orgasm begins. Your pussy tightens around his cock and he goes still, eyes closing tightly as he begins to climax along with you. His cum is warm in your pussy, filling it up as you orgasm loudly, clinging to him as much as you can given the position. Seonghwa’s voice is shattered, your name sounding different than it ever as before from his mouth, the two of you inseparable in this moment.

            Both are panting, coming down from intense climaxes as Seonghwa gently untangles himself from you. Your legs protest as you stretch them out across the couch, not used to being bent back like that for so long. You can feel his cum in your cunt, your body sticky with sweat, propping yourself up a little. Your t-shirt was on the entire time and now clings to your skin.

          “I need a shower,” You tell him, “I assume you have an amazing shower that I will be taking advantage of. And clothes too.”

           Seonghwa tries to push his hair out of his face, a smile tugging on his lips. “Yes, I can show you where the bathroom is.”

           You hold out your hand, “Fine but you’re not showering with me. No, don’t pout. I actually want to shower not fuck in it.”

           Seonghwa tugs on his boxers as he stands up, holding his hand out to you. “Alright. But I think once you see the shower, you’ll definitely want to fuck in it one time.”

*

               Seonghwa is right about the shower. It is luxurious, and you linger underneath the hot water, thinking back to the events that unfolded tonight. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that it would take that little time to tumble into sex with Seonghwa…but it hadn’t, not really. The two of you had been circling each other unknowingly for months.

               Now, you can view his offer of a date a week ago through a different lens. Seonghwa’s apartment is massive and stunning but ultimately there is a distance in every room that speaks to the loneliness ebbing at his heart. You think of him on the outskirts of the group, the quiet manner he talks to Hongjoong in corners of rooms, the way he asks whoever floats near the friend circle out on a date, working through each and every person to see if anyone would see him as he is. You hadn’t, after all. All you knew of Seonghwa was of his money and his proposal had cemented that in your mind. It took the knowledge that you sexted him for months to give him a chance.

               Getting out of the shower, you dry off and change into clothes Seonghwa let you borrow. They are oversized but comfortable and you look in the mirror. Baffled to be staring at your reflection, your skin still flushed from the sex and heat of the water, wearing Seonghwa’s clothes as if you are his girlfriend.

               You pad out of the bathroom into his master bedroom. He is perched on the edge of the bed with the TV on. He looks so small on such a large bed that you feel that same pang of pity from earlier. He turns to look at you entering. The TV illuminates half his face, the curve of his neck and his fingers resting delicately in his lap.

               “This place feels like a fucking hotel,” You tell him, approaching the bed and hopping onto it.

               Seonghwa blinks. He has changed as well, now just wearing a simple white t-shirt and black sweatpants. “Is that bad?”

               “Do you like it?”

               “Yes, I think it’s nice and orderly.”

               “Well, then that’s all that matters.” You reply, moving back to lay on the pillows, stretching out your legs, “My legs are killing me though. Maybe we shouldn’t do that position again soon as fun as it is.”

               “Oh, so we will be fucking again then? Even though you said…what was it again…that you didn’t care about me in that way?”

               You know that Seonghwa is teasing you. As he speaks, he shifts closer to you, bringing his hands down to your legs, starting to massage them gently.

               “Well, that was before you made me cum twice,” You reply breezily. “I am quite interested now.”

               At this, Seonghwa laughs which you find incredibly pleasing. Oh no, I really like him, you think as he rubs your legs, his hands slowly working from your thighs downward to your ankles. The pressure is nice and being here in the quiet of his room with just the TV on is strangely relaxing.

               “Will you go out for coffee with me in the morning?” Seonghwa asks, not looking at you.

               “I suppose so. I mean, I’m here anyway, right? I might as well.” You say, your tone still light and airy.

               “Would you like to start seeing one another regularly?” He then asks, still not looking at you.

               You find yourself studying him in the low lights. Seonghwa looks serene, working out the kinks in your muscles from earlier, as if the only thing he’s been searching for outside true friendship has been someone who will lay quietly with him in bed, turning off the tornado in his heart.

               Feeling suddenly protective, you reach down and gently take his hands in yours, startling him. He looks up at you curiously as you bring his fingertips to your lips, grazing each one like a whisp of silk. Then you lean forward, kissing him. Seonghwa stiffens in surprise for a moment – perhaps at how soft it is, maybe no one has treated him so tenderly before and it is too unexpected. But then he melts like butter in a pan, one hand moving from yours to cup your cheek as the kiss is returned.

               “Yes, just to clarify,” You finally whisper when the kiss breaks and your heart is racing so hard that you feel a little lightheaded, “I’ll see you regularly, Hwa.”

               “Lucky me,” He murmurs back, pulling away just enough to return to massaging your legs as you sink into the pillows, “Oh, one question though.”

               “What?” You ask, starting to feel very comfortable and sleepy.

               He glances at you. “We can still keep texting, right?”

               Now it is your turn to laugh. “Oh, absolutely. Wouldn’t want you feeling lonely again on me, would I?”

               And Seonghwa smiles with a radiance you didn’t know was possible, here in the safety of his penthouse, far above the city lights, close to the clouds.

the end.

[yandere-genji]

Heyo! Could you do some headcannons for Ashe and Cassidy realizing they're after the same darling? Bonus points if the darling is highly skittish or elusive.

Ashe and Cassidy have a complicated relationship, to say the least. As the leader of the Deadlock Gang, it’s Ashe’s responsibility to keep everyone in check. And Cassidy has always been a rebel, he thrives as a lone wolf. When they were young, Ashe was always trying to tame him. She would bark at him for not obeying orders and he would flash her that signature smug grin of his with a half assed “sorry” and a chuckle. But she had to admit, Cassidy’s aim and quick wit was unmatched among her crew. He got away with shit nothing else would be able to. Still, his confidence and disobedience was spreading to them like a disease and she was determined to stamp it out. 

Cassidy got a kick out of Ashes tantrums and would always tease her about them. He was the gasoline to her fire. And when she was fired up, she was near unstoppable. As far as he was concerned, he was doing her a service by entertaining her anger. During his time in the gang, they saw their most success. It was no coincidence, it was their synergy that they were able to make a name for themselves. But they got sloppy, the gang got caught and Cassidy was absorbed by Blackwatch. 

Years later, they met yet again, facing each other head to head when Cassidy retrieved Ashe’s stolen contraband. And they realized nothing had changed. Ashe was still as stubborn as an ox and Cassidy was the same smug bastard as ever before. 

However defiant Cassidy was out on the field, he was always on his best behavior when it came to you. Keeping a respectful distance, but never missing an opportunity to breach it. That is to say, he’ll play by your rules until he can coax you into playing by his. And he’s charming, it’s easy to let your guard down with him, and you do. You’re slippery as an eel, though, and it’s hard for him to pin you down when you’re vulnerable because you shy aware from him when you are. He’s like a hunter patiently waiting to snare you in his trap. 

Ashe is different. She’s impatient and forceful, she lacks the graces that Cassidy has but has some of her own. She can’t lull you into security like he does, but she’s a natural born leader and it’s hard to say no to her when she gives you an order. You find yourself doing as she asks without even realizing it. She loves your obedient nature, adores how easily you fold under her. She’s never really had to seduce anyone before, she’s so used to getting what she wants just by asking for it. But she has to go through the song and dance with you and she’s terrible at it. She usually has all the graces of a socialite but loses it when she realizes her weakness is you. 

When the two discover that they’re both pining for you, things get…out of hand. Ashe is absolutely livid and you have to beg her to drop her coach gun and listen to reason. It doesn’t go far and it isn’t long before she mets Cassidy out in the barren desert and threatens to snuff the life out of him then and there. Cassidy calls her bluff, saunters out to meet her, hand hovering over his peacekeeper. He stops, about 20 feet away from her, positioned as if ready to draw in a moments notice. 

He’s in his element. Cassidy knows that out of the two of them, he’s easily the most suitable romantic partner. So he faces the conflict as confident as ever, rest assured in his ability to woo you. But that’s not what Ashe is concerned about. It didn’t matter if you prefer Cassidy or not, she was going to take you regardless. But he always had to make himself an obstacle in her path, one she still couldn’t best. Because of him, nabbing you is going to be much more difficult than expected. 

In the midst of their fighting, you make yourself scarce, eager to remove yourself from the situation. You weren’t sure how you got into this mess, but now you had the two most notorious outlaws in the New West on your trail. Still, you weren’t completely hopeless. Having been so close to Ashe and Cassidy, you discovered their blind spots and could evade them for a considerable amount of time. When you slipped through their fingers, Ashe jumped at Cassidy’s throat, accusing him of some kind of plot to steal you away. Cassidy was caught completely off guard. He was ready to win your heart for good, defend your honor and you just up and left him to fend for himself. Neither of them were happy with you scurrying off. 

Just like the old days, they teamed up again on a mission to search for you. And when they find you, they work together in punishing you for wondering off. It’s in these moments that you belong to the both of them, pushed towards Cassidy and pulled back into the arms of Ashe. They find their camaraderie again in torturing and toying with you. It quells their conflict, if only for a moment. But there’s no way they can share you like this for long. 

Cassidy is a passive combattant at first, still confident that you’ll be running to him by the end of this. He’s an experienced playboy that can play your body like a fiddle. But Ashe is more emotionally invested in you than physically, and her sincerity is touching. Sure, she’s harsh and controlling but she cares for you like a doting mother. If he finds you’ve grown more partial to her, that’s when hell breaks loose. 

Then, the situation becomes more dire. It’s turned from a playful show into a fight for your favor. Now that bedding you hasn’t worked, Cassidy is much more forceful and violent in his approach, and Ashe doesn’t like this one bit. He might put his hands on you if you misbehave, and if she sees any marks that aren’t hers, these two will spend all day screaming at each other. You’d never seen Cassidy invested in these arguments until now, but it seems like he’s taking this more seriously than before. 

There are plenty of times when you slip away from them, but they always find you. Cassidy used to be impressed with your evasiveness, he seemed to get a kick out of your little game of cat and mouse. But once things turned sour, he was swift to make an example of you. Ashe was never entertained, though, and is happy to punish you once Cassidy hardened up a bit. 

If you ever feed into your Stockholm syndrome and they break you in, you’re basically their baby. Cassidy will soften up towards you and spoil you rotten, Ashe will still be the disciplinarian that barks orders at you. They still fight over you, and sometimes one or the other will take off with you by themselves for a while. But they always come back to meet each other in the middle, if only to please you.

[detachedfacade]

Though Stevie was beginning to push the boundaries of her gender expression, Dustin, like the rest of the party, didn't catch on. Though he did say things like "Your new look is...interesting" with a lingering expression at her flowy crop tops and dangly earrings. But Stevie wanted Dustin to know, even if it was scary. Even if she was worried she would lose her brother. Robin had said to her, "You don't have to tell anyone until you're ready, but if you are ready, you just gotta bite the bullet."

She really did feel ready, and given that Dustin was the one from the younger group she spent most time with, she figured it would be nice to include him into the pool of people who knew to call her Stevie, who knew to refer to her with female pronouns.  So that the times when she, Eddie, Robin and Dustin were hanging out, would be one less time she had to be Steve. 

She was at his house, he was showing her a new game he had got for his birthday. "From Suzie." He grinned. "Maybe you could get Eddie the same thing, I reckon he would like it too. Its expensive, but I know you have a crush on him. If you wanna be his boyfriend you gotta woo him." Dustin said.

Stevie tensed, let the silence linger. "Dustin." she said. "I know you've noticed I've been dressing different. Maybe acting a little different."

Dustin nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing, trying to understand where this was going. "You don't have to come out to me Steve, we figured you were gay when Mike caught you kissing a guy at Nancy's NYE party." He said it so flippantly, it took Stevie aback. Dustin misread Stevies face again, but how could she blame him? "We didn't tell any I promise, he just told us because Will was having a crisis and he wanted him to know it was cool to be gay because Will thinks you are cool, and you know, I guess I do to." He joked.

Stevie smiled. "I appreciate that but...I'm not gay. I mean I'm bisexual really and I do like Eddie, but if we got together I wouldn't be his boyfriend. Dustin." Bite the bullet bite the bullet bite the bullet. "I would be his girlfriend."

Dustin frowned.

"You don't have to understand straight away." Stevie added. "I took twenty years so....But I hope this doesn't change things."

"You wouldn't be my brother anymore." Dustin said.

Stevie shook her head.

Dustin took a moment, then said. "I have always secretly assumed you and Robin were evil twins. I used to think it was a dizygotic thing you know but monozygotic makes far more sense."

"I don't understand this science stuff you're saying." Stevie replied.

"It means I'm excited to have a sister, dingus." He said, pulling her into a hug, and then adding in a bored voice. "Monozygotic twins are identical by the way, right down to the gender. You really should have paid more attention in class, then maybe I wouldn't have to explain when I'm being nice to you." 

Stevie felt warm, at the insult from Dustin, treating her the same he always had. The way Mike treated Nancy. The way a little brother treats an older sister. 

(collection of my stevie drabbles on ao3)